Chapter Seven
The Fourth of July
Nora had never hexed a customer before, but as the hippie-looking man with the long, untidy beard continued to snap at her, she found herself seriously debating between teleporting him out of the park and giving him a temporary case of harmless warts.
“...incompetent behavior. I’ve never seen anything like this,” he was saying. “Why the hell wouldn’t you warn us that the animals might bite? Look what your creature’s done to my kid.”
He gestured, not for the first time, at the boy standing on his left, staring at the spot on his thumb where the rabbit had nibbled his skin.
The boy, no older than eight or nine, didn’t look the least bit disturbed or in pain—if anything, he had a look of pure curiosity on his face, like he was considering petting the rabbit a second time.
His father, on the other hand, was beside himself with fury, his face reddening by the second.
“Sir,” she began, with as much calmness as she could rally, “I’m really sorry, but—”
“You hurt my Dexter,” he seethed, flecks of spit flying from his mouth with each word. He jabbed a finger at Nora. “I want a damn refund, and I want it now. Heck, I might even press charges.”
Nora bit her lip, simply staring at him.
In recent years, she’d had plenty of experience handling customers, particularly difficult ones.
Just not many like this guy. The more he spoke, the more she considered giving him a little makeover, something to shut him up.
The last thing she needed right now, when she was so busy worrying about her life expectancy, was some random customer trying to worm his way out of paying.
But the man’s voice was starting to attract looks from passersby, and if there was one thing she’d learned from handling yelling customers, it was that they were definitely bad for business.
Where the hell was Henry? She glanced past the man, scanning the crowd for the dragon shifter.
She caught sight of him making his way toward the tent.
In a matter of seconds, he’d reached them, frowning at the scene before him.
“What’s going on?” he wanted to know.
“One of the rabbits nibbled the boy’s finger,” she explained, shooting Henry a look that said, Help! “His father wants a refund...and potentially a lawsuit.”
“Are you the one in charge?” the man asked.
Henry stepped closer, towering over him with a calm expression on his face. “Yes, sir, I am. I apologize for whatever distress you must be in.”
“Yeah, you’d better—”
“But from what I can see, your son isn’t really injured. There’s no cut.”
The man’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head. “You callin’ me a liar?”
“I’m saying you’re mistaken, sir.” Henry dropped to a crouch next to the boy, holding out his hand. “Let me see that, kiddo. Are you hurt?”
The boy glanced at him, then at his father. Then he shook his head slowly.
“Kid doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” his father insisted. “I want my refund.”
Henry sighed, and for a second, Nora thought he might give the man a piece of his mind. Instead, he simply straightened, a pleasant smile unfurling on his face.
“I can assure you, sir,” he said, “that all our animals are properly vaccinated and no harm will come to your child or anyone else. But if you want a refund, I’m willing to let you have it.”
The man’s face seemed to relax a little. He cleared his throat. “Well, when you put it that way, I guess that’s fair. We’ll take the refund. No lawsuit.”
Henry’s smile widened. A second later, he handed the man a wad of notes. “Thank you.”
“C’mon, Dexter.” The man put an arm around his son’s shoulders and led him away through the crowd.
Nora and Henry stared after them for a few seconds. Then he turned to face her.
“Thanks for the save,” she said.
“Don’t mention it. He was all bark and no bite. Plus I think I might’ve scared him a little without meaning to.”
Nora couldn’t argue with that. The sheer size of his muscles would intimidate anybody.
The corner of his mouth turned upward. “You looked like you were about to zap him into oblivion. Lucky I got here when I did.”
She could tell he was trying not to sound so disappointed about the refund. It was a setback, considering he still had a lot of sales to make before the day was over.
“We’ll get more customers,” she assured him. “I’ll do whatever it takes to make that happen.”
His dark eyes gleamed a little at her words, and she felt her chest constrict a little.
The memory of Henry covering her mouth with his hit her then, without warning.
It had been so sudden and unexpected, but she’d savored every second of it.
Heck, if he hadn’t pulled away when he had, reminding her of the fact that they were still in public, there was no telling what she would’ve let him do.
She bit her lip, feeling warmth pool between her thighs, and forced herself to concentrate on anything but the thought of him prying her clothes off her body. Not now. She had other things to think about. Like the fact that her life was still in danger.
How much longer would that go on? It was getting even more tiring by the hour.
Nora wasn’t looking forward to seeing the hunter again anytime soon.
She loved it here, being in this small town at this fair, even if she’d only been around for a couple of hours.
She’d experienced more peace already than she had in the past month.
It was a relative calm she could get used to.
Especially since she was never going back home. Not to the coven that wanted her dead.
***
She tore between the trees, sending a low-hanging branch flying out of her way with a quick flick of her wrist. Twigs snapped beneath her feet, and the sound of her footfalls resounded through the woods.
She kept her eyes narrowed, peering through the darkness as she navigated her way through the greenery.
They hadn’t already begun, had they? Surely, she wasn’t late?
She increased her pace, nearly tripping over an upraised root that she hadn’t spotted until the last second.
It was almost too dark to make out anything, but somehow she managed.
In the distance, she could hear voices. Somewhere outside the woods, several people had gathered, some with picnic blankets, liquor and fireworks.
It was the Fourth of July, and the humans had come out to celebrate.
The Circle of Moonshade, however, was preparing for a ritual.
One that she was probably late for, Nora thought, swallowing as she raced through the woods.
She’d gotten a bit distracted at home and hadn’t realized the time until she glanced up at the living room clock.
She hurried between twin columns of trees, already somewhat familiar with the path leading to the meeting location.
Isobel’s words rang in her mind then: I want us all to be present. This is very crucial to the Circle of Moonshine.
If she was late, they might not be able to perform the ritual.
And it would be her fault.
Isobel wouldn’t like that. Nora’s heart jackhammered in her chest, only in part from the physical exertion.
Hadn’t it been just three days ago that the coven leader cornered her in the woods?
Isobel already disliked her, even more so now that Nora had ended things with her son.
The last thing she needed was to give the witch another reason not to like her.
She powered faster through the woods until her legs started to ache. A minute later, she burst into a clearing and skidded to a halt, doubling over and trying to catch her breath.
She wasn’t alone. Eleven other witches stood in an incomplete circle in the clearing. They all turned to look at her as she straightened, and she caught the disappointed expressions on their faces.
“I’m pleased you could join us, Alianora,” Isobel said, in a voice that suggested she was anything but pleased with her. “Take your place in the circle, will you?”
Nora tried to ignore the cold stare the witch shot in her direction. She did as instructed. “I’m not too late, am I?”
A thin smile played across the coven leader’s face. In the light from the full moon, she looked almost eerie, her hair and robes gleaming brighter than anyone else’s in the circle.
“You’re just on time,” she said. “Good to see we are all gathered. Let us begin.”
Nora looked around at the rest of the coven.
Each witch had a serious look on her face, straightening in preparation for the ritual.
Crackling gently in their midst was a small flame, burning through a tiny pile of tree branches and stones.
It didn’t look like much of a pyre, but according to Isobel the aim wasn’t to attract attention.
Especially not on a night like this. If anything, they’d be fortunate to be able to use the Fourth of July celebrations as a cover for what they were about to do.
It shouldn’t be long before the first fireworks went off.
“We gather tonight as a coven devoted to the power of the moon,” Isobel said, her voice somewhat solemn. “Together in strength and in sacrifice. Tonight is an important night. The power of the full moon is ours to harness, ours to enjoy. It is a power of justice, a power of cleansing.”
Nora couldn’t help noticing Isobel’s gaze flicking to her on that last note.
She remained still, averting her gaze to the bright flame in the center of the clearing, trying not to let her nerves overcome her.
In all the time she’d been a member of this coven, they’d never performed a spell like this before.
And what was it that Isobel had said the other night?
It’s a dangerous spell. The coven leader’s words filled her mind then. And the risk is the highest possible: death.
She glanced up from the flame, catching Isobel’s gray gaze for a second before the older witch looked away. Isobel drew a deep breath, closed her eyes and began to chant.
Nothing happened at first. The other witches stood watching, their eyes glinting with anticipation.
Then Nora felt a gentle breeze on her face. A second later, a slight hum filled her ears as the air in the clearing thickened with magic. She sucked in a breath, her heart fluttering inside her ribcage, although whether it was with awe or trepidation she couldn’t quite say.
Isobel continued to chant, swaying a little on the spot.
Nora saw a few of the other witches close their eyes and bow their heads as though in reverence.
Before she could do the same, something flickered in the corner of her eye.
She raised her head just in time to see a blue light streak across the sky and explode, filling the night with color.
The fireworks display had begun.
She heard a series of whistles as more fireworks climbed higher into the air, filling the sky with red, white and blue. In the distance, humans were cheering, their voices and music almost completely drowning out the sound of Isobel’s chanting.
The coven leader had gotten louder, spreading her arms at her sides. At the same time, the flame in their midst blazed brighter, rising like a pillar and casting deep shadows against the trees. Warmth blasted Nora in the face, and she felt a gentle tingle in her fingertips.
The spell was working.
She held her breath, trying to contain the sudden sensation growing inside her.
It felt like excitement—no, desire. Or was it hunger?
Whatever it was, it was powerful and getting stronger by the second.
The tingle spread from her extremities to her center, making its way through every inch of her body, and only then did she begin to wonder whether something might be wrong.
Between the fireworks and Isobel’s chanting, she could barely make sense of what was going on anymore, but she could feel it. A gentle prickle filled her mouth, followed immediately by a sharp pain as her teeth began to grow.
What in the—?
Nora’s bones crackled, taking new shape, and she was instantly forced onto all fours. An itch spread across her skin as dark fur sprouted from her pores, covering her limbs, torso and face.
I’m shifting. Why am I shifting?
The other witches didn’t seem to have noticed what was going on.
Nora tried to shift back to human, but she seemed to have lost all control of her body.
Was this part of the spell? It didn’t feel quite right.
Her face elongated into a snout, her eyes adjusting better to the darkness, and her sense of smell sharpened, multiple scents hitting her nostrils all at once.
No, she thought. No. This isn’t supposed to happen.
She’d always had control over her ability to shift, even during full moons. This was new. Why the hell was it happening?
Her teeth filled her mouth, claws extending from her fingertips. She opened her mouth with a snarl, and her world faded into blackness.