Once in a Full Moon (16 page)

Chapter Twenty-two
A Date with a Werewolf

O
n Saturday morning, I woke up without knowing what to do next. Ivy and Abby had insisted I join them and Nash at the mall. I couldn’t convince Ivy that today wasn’t good. Once she got something in her head, there was no changing her mind. There wasn’t much daylight in the winter months and I didn’t have much time, so I’d have to make my visit with them quick in order to still have time to convince Brandon to go with me to Penny for Your Thoughts before the sun set.

I wanted to take a quick stroll with Champ prior to heading out. It would give me a chance to get some fresh air and maybe some fresh ideas on how to convince Brandon to meet Dr. Meadows. As soon as we hit the end of our street, Champ was barking wildly. I did my best to calm him down, but all the dogs in the neighborhood were barking as we passed by their houses. Champ was growling toward the wooded area behind the snow-filled soccer field, and I began to wonder if I should be worried about wolves, even with Champ along with me. I started pulling him back toward home when “Fly Me to the Moon” started playing from my back pocket. I was exhilarated. It was Brandon.

“I’m right behind you,” he said when I answered the phone breathlessly.

I spun around. There was a figure standing next to the woods beyond the soccer field; it was the exact direction in which Champ was barking.

I tried my best to hold on to Champ’s leash but he broke loose. I chased after him down the hill.

As soon as Champ reached Brandon, my out-of-control dog was suddenly silent.

Without so much as a command or a treat, Champ sat down and faced Brandon.

“You have a way with animals,” I said when I finally caught up.

“And girls, I hope.”

I wanted to kiss Brandon so badly my heart hurt.

Brandon petted Champ as if he were his own dog.

“I’d like to take you out on a real date,” Brandon said. “But I know there are many complications with that. I mean, there’s Nash, for one, and me being from the wrong side of town . . . and of course we’d have to be back before sunset.”

“But I’m not dating Nash,” I tried to assure him. “And to me, any side of town you live on is the right side.”

He smiled a sweet smile.

“I should have listened to Dr. Meadows,” I said.

“I don’t know why you blame yourself.”

“If I hadn’t been so skeptical of her prediction, none of this would have happened.”

“Celeste—there is no way you could have known. Besides, it’s not like Dr. Meadows predicted the future. She said things that anyone could have said to you.”

“I know—but it happened. Perhaps she really knew.”

“And what if she didn’t? What if it was just coincidence? Or you read too much into her reading?”

“But she’s the only one I know who can help you,” I said wearily. “She wants to see you. She says that is the only way she can help you. And if you don’t go, then you might be a werewolf . . . forever.” Tears began to well in my eyes.

“It’s okay . . .” he said, putting his arm around me.

I couldn’t even bear to look at him.

“I’ll meet her,” he said.

“You will?”

“Yes, if it will make you happy.”

I gave him a huge hug. I didn’t care whether the neighbors saw me do it, even though I knew we were hidden away.

“I’ll just take Champ home and I can drive us.”

“We’re going now?” he asked.

“What’s wrong?”

“I was hoping I’d get to see you today—for a real date. But it seems like you already have plans.”

“I do—but I can see you later tonight.” I realized I might have been too eager.

“Because it occurred to me,” he continued, “since I can’t remember the nights, I don’t know how I am when the moon shows . . . I don’t want you to be in any danger, so I thought I’d just try to get a glimpse of you before sunset.”

“You haven’t hurt me before when you’ve been in your werewolf form,” I said. “And I’ve seen you change twice. What makes you think you would harm me now?”

He turned away. “I don’t know what I’m like, Celeste.”

I would love a real date with Brandon, but convincing him to be with me while in his werewolf form was another thing.

“Then let me be with you and I’ll tell you tomorrow what you were like. I’ll be able to reassure you.”

I wanted to see him again as a werewolf, with his magnetic features. And since he needed to know what he was like in his werewolf form, I could tell him. I’d been waiting for months to have a real date with Brandon. Dr. Meadows had only been waiting for a few hours.

I could see that Brandon was torn.

“I’ll bring Champ,” I said. “If that will make you feel better. He can protect me.”

“Against a werewolf?” he asked.

“I don’t think either one of us is in any danger. I know you don’t remember, but I do. You could have hurt me last time—I fell and you could have overpowered me, but you didn’t. Instead it looked like you were going to help me.”

“Okay, then,” he relented. “Will you meet me tonight?” he asked. “In the woods behind my house?”

I nodded excitedly. It was official: our first real date.

“You won’t remember,” I said. “But I’ll be there.”

“I’ll remember this,” he said, and pulled me into an embrace and kissed me.

As soon as he left, Champ began barking again in the direction Brandon had gone.

When I arrived at Brandon’s hilltop hideout in the woods behind his grandparents’ house, the scene was magical. Tiny snowflakes danced down from the sky.

Brandon was waiting for me next to a bonfire. He was as majestic and handsome as I’d ever seen him. The fire crackled and lit his features. His dark hair was tousled and sexy. I walked up to him, and I could feel the heat radiating off his body as strongly as from the campfire. I was addicted to Brandon Maddox. He wasn’t like anyone I’d ever met. During the day, I found him to be a sensitive, caring guy—unlike all the guys I’d ever hung out with—and when the sun set and the full moon glowed, he was wild and irresistible. He had fangs that could pierce a girl’s soul.

Champ was silent at my side. It was as if he was as mesmerized by Brandon as I was.

All at once the woods filled with the sounds of howling. Champ began to bark, too.

It was then I noticed the eyes of several wolves peeking from the dark edges of the clearing. Champ was still. Normally he would have lurched forward and I’d have been thrown into the snow. Instead, all the animals were tranquil.

I was frozen with fear. Too recently, wolves had surrounded me and I feared for my life.

“Don’t be afraid,” Brandon assured me. “It’s okay.”

I stood behind him, and Champ did, too.

The wolves, one by one, lay down in the pure white snow. The sight of the gorgeous gray wolves, which looked soft and sweet instead of fierce and dangerous, was unbelievably breathtaking. It was as magical as any footage I’d seen on animal and nature programs—only this was real.

Brandon happily petted the wolves, which were as playful as any domestic dog.

“Don’t try this at home,” he teased. “But do you want to try it with me?”

“I’m not sure.” The wolves were amazingly beautiful. A smaller one came forward. Brandon nodded to me, and under his careful watch I suddenly felt safe. I reached out and gently touched the wolf pup. Its fur was soft and luxurious; I caressed the adorable wolf just as I had petted Champ for so many years.

It nuzzled up to me and licked my cheeks, causing me to burst out giggling.

“Okay now—” Brandon said to the pup. “Now you are getting on my territory.”

He whistled, and the wolf retreated from me and returned to the pack. They all hunkered around Brandon.

Brandon seemed more at peace than I’d seen him since his arrival in Legend’s Run. These wolves comforted him—like Champ comforted me.

Brandon took me in his arms. Normally, in a situation such as this one, I’d be terrified. I was in the woods, surrounded by wolves, and in the company of a werewolf. But with Brandon, I felt at ease. I must have been under his spell.

“I must say, I’ve never had a date like this one,” I said.

“Me neither,” he said.

“But if you don’t remember,” I said, “you could be bringing cheerleaders back here every night.”

“I promise you that isn’t happening.”

I gave him a kiss on his cheek.

“I’m starved,” he said.

He pointed to the fire, where several steaks were cooking. I peered over them.

“Where did you get these?” I asked.

“I don’t remember . . .” he said.

My stomach turned. It couldn’t be. A once-cute deer with Bambi’s face now lying on this fire? I turned away.

“I’m only kidding,” he said. “They’re from my grandmother’s freezer.”

I sighed with relief. Brandon was such an animal lover he’d be even more devastated than me if he discovered he’d been hunting wildlife.

We sat down together on a huge fallen tree.

He tugged at the steaks with a stick as they sizzled.

I looked around for a backpack or a picnic basket. “Any plates? Forks?”

“Oh no—I forgot,” he said. “What was I thinking?”

Brandon speared one of the steaks with a small branch and handed it to me.

“I guess I’m not a gentleman after all,” he said, embarrassed, as I eyed the skewered meat.

“I prefer you in the wild,” I said.

He tore into his steak as if he hadn’t eaten in weeks. I wasn’t used to camping—my experience with campfire dining was just bringing snacks from home like our sixsome had done this past fall.

I held the branch, the meat hanging on it. This was a lot different from roasting marshmallows. If Ivy could see me now, she’d faint. Not only would I have to eat with my fingers, an activity that Ivy found revolting, but I didn’t even have a napkin. I had mild trepidation, feeling like an animal myself. But I didn’t want to offend Brandon, and I wasn’t about to spoil our first date together.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “We’re really roughing it.”

Though I felt uncomfortable eating in an unladylike way on a first date, there was a part of me that felt free. All these years I’d played by the rules, and it was slightly liberating to eat in the wild.

“I’ll have to stop at a camping supply place after school.”

“I’ll remind you,” I said.

If Brandon didn’t remember this night together, maybe this was my chance to say things to him I wouldn’t be able to say during the day. I could use this opportunity and finally confess my love to him. And in the morning, when I brushed past him at school, he wouldn’t be aware that I’d already bared the depths of my soul. However, Brandon did say he recalled certain images when he awoke. And with my luck, the one where I confessed my love and he laughed in my face would be that moment. So I nibbled on my steak as daintily as I could.

Brandon devoured his steak and threw the bone to his wolf pack. He took mine when I was done, then washed his hands off in a clump of snow. Brandon put his arms around me. He gave off as much heat as the crackling fire.

“This is the best date I’ve ever had,” I said truthfully.

The night was enchanting. The snow had stopped falling, and now the clouds parted and the icicles glistened in the moonlight. Brandon warmed my hands in his. We watched as the wolves playfully bit each other and rolled around together in the snow. Then they yawned and stretched, and before I knew it, the wolves, along with Champ, were lying sound asleep. The trees were lined with snow, and I was in the company of a magnificent wild animal of the lycan kind.

The full moon shone above us. Brandon leaned into me and rested his stubbled cheek against mine. I wanted so badly to kiss him, but I recalled Dr. Meadows’s words. I couldn’t take the chance. For both our sakes I had to pull away.

“I’m not supposed to kiss you when you’re like this,” I told him.

“Then what if I kiss you?”

He drew me back and kissed my neck, then nibbled his way to my shoulders. He nuzzled his nose along my neckline. He touched my hair and breathed it in as if the scent placed him under a spell.

I spent the rest of the evening trying to avoid kissing a werewolf.

Chapter Twenty-three
Mr. Worthington

A
s I reached the reception desk of Pine Tree Village, Mr. Worthington caught sight of me. He was standing in the lobby next to a grand piano.

“Celeste. It always warms my heart to see you,” he said, his fingers tinkling on the keys. “What is new with you?”

“You wouldn’t believe it if I told you,” I said seriously.

“I’ve heard a lot in my time, young lady. Nothing would surprise me.”

I knew if I told Mr. Worthington my recent events, he might have a coronary right there and then. I couldn’t be responsible.

“Are you referring to the wolves showing up at your school?” he asked.

“Did you hear about them?” I’d almost forgotten.

“It’s all anyone is talking about. Please. I’d love to hear an eyewitness account.”

“It was so strange. They were outside my classroom. Beautiful, with fluffy gray-and-white fur. If they weren’t so dangerous, I would have taken one home with me.”

“Well, their bite is much worse than their bark,” he said.

I cracked a smile.

“It is odd for wolves to come so close to the human population,” he said.

“That’s what I’ve heard.”

“It must have been because of the full moon,” he said mysteriously.

Just then a nurse came up to him. “It’s time for your meds,” she said.

I followed Mr. Worthington back to his room. He had tons of pictures and mementos hung on the walls and placed around tables and shelves to remind him of his accomplishments and family.

He took the colorful pills the nurse handed him, and she left us to continue our conversation.

“So are you back to hear more about the Legend’s Run Werewolf?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said. “Last time I came you said you were only at the beginning of your story.”

“Come, sit down,” he said, pointing to an antique chair.

“This is my great-grandfather,” he added, showing me a worn black-and-white portrait of a man. “Some say he was mentally ill. Others say he was cursed. His wife swore otherwise.”

I was surprised at Mr. Worthington’s candor and was enraptured by his biography.

“My great-grandfather was building his house—it was over in the western part of town by the river—when a pack of wolves came after his baby, sleeping in a bassinet by the lumber pile. That baby was my father.”

I was riveted by his story and I nodded, hoping he’d continue.

“By the time he caught sight of the pack, one wolf already had the basket in its mouth, ready to carry it back to its den.

“As his wife cried out, he fought like mad, desperate to save his son. The boy, still cradled in the basket, was unharmed, but my great-grandfather was almost killed. Bloody and on the brink of death, he lay under a shade tree as his wife ran for help. The local chieftain came to his aid and attended to him. When the chieftain finally left, he told my family my great-grandfather would live but the wolf was now inside him—in his blood.

“But no one knew what the chieftain meant at the time. Apparently my great-grandfather was never the same.”

It was just like Brandon. Suddenly I was dying to tell Mr. Worthington my tale of the Legend’s Run Werewolf. But he wasn’t finished with his story, and I wasn’t sure it was wise to tell Brandon’s secret.

“It started with a full moon and continued for three days. He roamed the woods alone. When he was spotted by hunters he was mistaken for a wolf.”

Mr. Worthington showed me more pictures. Many were black-and-white photos. Others were in color but worn. Then he showed me an old family portrait. “This is his wife and my father,” he said. Then he handed me a black-and-white baby picture. “And this is yours truly.”

“Ah . . . You were so cute!” I said.

“And this is my wife, my son, Harry, and his daughter, Claire,” he said, pointing to still more photos. “She’s something of a wild child. Always was. Couldn’t be kept down by conventional traditions. She married a man, here in Legend’s Run, and had a child. As soon as the child was born, she disappeared. She ran off to a commune and we lost contact with her many years ago. I always told my wife it was the wolf in her blood.”

“Your great-grandfather was the Legend’s Run Werewolf,” I said. “Now, that is a great story!”

I couldn’t shake from my mind the tale Mr. Worthington had shared with me. It might have been because he’d had too much time on his hands or he, like in the traditions of folklore that were the subject of my essay, was passing down the town’s legend. I’m sure everyone in town had a similar anecdote—people grasping onto the idea of something mysterious existing to keep the town exciting.

Just a few weeks ago it would have shocked me that someone as wise and rational as Mr. Worthington would latch on to something so extraordinary and believe it was true. It wasn’t the kind of story in which you say that your family’s ancestors are royalty. Mr. Worthington wasn’t trying to convince me that he was kin to a king but rather that he was related to a werewolf.

I wouldn’t have believed it for a minute if I hadn’t fallen in love with a werewolf myself.

I returned home and wolfed down my lunch. It was always good to get some home time on a weekend, but I was bursting to tell Brandon about my encounter with Mr. Worthington. He might laugh it off or find comfort knowing someone I knew insisted that they, too, believed in werewolves. When I headed out the back door, I found someone waiting for me in the driveway. It was Nash.

This was the first time we’d been alone in weeks.

“You canceled the other night,” Nash said. “We all were going to the mall. I had to watch Abby and Ivy shop for two hours. What gives?”

It was clear Nash was feeling lonely.

“Where are you off to in such a hurry? Volunteering again?”

“No, I already did that.”

“Then what’s up?” he asked.

“Just errands.”

“Why are you wearing those atrocious gloves? Seems to me you’re copying someone else’s style.”

“They make fingerless gloves, you know, because people wear them.”

“People, yes, but you?”

“You’re overthinking it,” I replied defensively. But was he really? I was wearing them for the exact reason Nash thought I was—to be like Brandon. I couldn’t admit it to him, or anyone else. It was best to deflect the attention I was bringing to myself and Brandon.

“So, is it love?” Nash asked.

“What do you mean?” I was startled by his directness.

“Are you in love?”

“What are you talking about? In love with whom?”

He took my hand.

“I’d like us to get back together.” He took my other hand and pulled me close. “You want me to pay attention to you. I get that. So I will.”

I liked Nash. He was handsome and popular and had moments of being a great boyfriend. Before we’d begun dating, I’d had a crush on him since I could remember. Every girl did. But as gorgeous and athletic as he was, we ultimately had different values and goals. And I was in love with another guy.

“I don’t think we should keep seeing each other,” I said. “We want different things.”

Nash dropped my hands in disgust. He paused, his face flushed red.

“You’ll see,” he said. “You’ll be begging to go back out with me. You mark my words.”

My ex-boyfriend hopped in his car and sped off into the distance.

I still wanted to tell Brandon about Mr. Worthington’s remarks. The only thing on my mind was being in his arms. But I arrived at his house to find him holding something else—groceries.

He was helping a woman get produce out of her hatchback.

Brandon hurried over to me carrying several bags.

“Hey, Celeste,” he said.

“Hi. Did I come over at a bad time?”

“No, I’m just helping out. I’d like you to meet someone.”

I followed Brandon to the car. A very stately woman with perfectly styled brown hair greeted me with a smile that looked remarkably like Brandon’s.

“Grandma, this is Celeste.”

“Hi, Celeste. It is wonderful to meet you.”

“You, too, Mrs. Maddox.”

“You can call me Barb,” she continued sweetly. “I am so happy Brandon has a friend,” she said as if she was taking me under her wing. “I worried so when he moved here after school had already begun. Well, I am so happy to know why he’s been keeping to himself and acting so . . .” She rolled her eyes. “Now I know why he’s been behaving so strangely,” she said, winking at me. “Would you like to come in for hot chocolate and cake?”

I looked to Brandon for an answer.

“We have to study, Gram. But thanks.”

“Perhaps another time,” she said, walking up the back stairs.

“Yes, I’d love to,” I said.

“I’ll only be a minute.” Brandon followed his grandmother with the groceries and met me inside his guesthouse.

“She is so cute!” I said. “I love her.”

“She is sweet, but she can be a bit . . .”

“Grandmotherish?”

“Exactly.”

“Is it lonely back here, with your grandparents in the main house?”

“Not now,” he said, engulfing me in his strong embrace.

We settled in his guesthouse for a quiet afternoon. We talked a little about my research into werewolf folklore and how I wondered if there could possibly be a cure that wasn’t a silver bullet. I mentioned meeting Dr. Meadows again, but Brandon still wasn’t sure he wanted to reveal his secret. While Brandon spent some time researching werewolves on his computer, I leafed through the books he had on his shelf. I saw a vintage Hardy Boys and pulled it out. Pictures were stuffed inside. I examined the first one.

I was stunned. Staring back at me was the same picture Mr. Worthington had in his room. I turned the picture over and inscribed in pencil was the name Claire Worthington.

I was afraid to speak.

“Who is this woman?” I asked.

Brandon turned to me. “She’s my mother.”

I gasped.

“What?” he asked. “It’s like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

“I just . . .” I began.

“I haven’t seen her since I was a kid,” he said. “I was raised by my father.”

“Brandon, I’ve seen this picture before.”

“What? You couldn’t have. Where, here?”

“I know this man at the retirement community. He’s so kind, and a gentleman. We spend a lot of time talking, and recently he told me the story of his great-grandfather, who was bitten by a wolf.”

“That’s weird.”

“He said that his great-grandfather was never the same.”

“Sounds familiar.”

“This man I know, his name is Charles Worthington. Do you know him?”

“No.”

“He has a granddaughter. Her name is Claire Worthington.”

“That must be a coincidence.”

“You told me your mother’s family moved away.”

“Yes,” he said.

“Well, no one told you that one of them moved back.”

Brandon was trying to process this new information.

“It’s more than coincidence, Brandon. My friend Mr. Worthington is your great-grandfather!”