Page 12 of Blue Moon Mistress

Taking the cleaned knife from the white cloth at the edge of the bottles and vials, I close my hand around the blade and whisper dark words.

All it takes is a squeeze and a tug, and more than enough blood pours from my clenched hand into the chalice.

Someone whimpers behind me.

“Sorry. It’s the only way I can take the spirits from you. Otherwise they’d be set loose to roam free.”

I whisper healing words to the green candle set a little apart from the others and pass my hand over the flame.

Bright and burning, the magic seals the cut on my hand, and I turn my focus back to the chalice and its contents.

Stirring them all together in the honey that serves as an offering to the spirits, I whisper my intentions—an invitation—over the contents.

Everything is ready…

I don’t need to do this part, but I still hope to get them to agree to the third part of the spell…

It takes nothing more than a twist and each of the clasps at the left side of my chest slip free. With a wiggle of my shoulders, the soft fabric slides down my skin.

I hear them shift behind me and I slide the remains of the spell to the side, so that all that is left at the center of the altar is the black cloth with its ancient symbols. And the two black candles on its furthest corners to help with the binding.

When I turn back to the wolves, they’re closer.

Four pairs of eyes watch me warily.

“The sacrifices your bodies have made for the moon and her children have come to an end. Hand them over to my keeping, and I will care for them. The moon will not see these actions as a betrayal. She will still grant you her favors.”

I snap my fingers, and the flame on one of the black candles splits and flies to my open palm.

Thomas snuffles a laugh.

Flame in my hand, I pause, looking at them one more time. “Last chance to tell me to fuck off, boys.”

The wolves turn to each other, and then three of them let out a little yip. The fourth… Joshua, looks me directly in the eyes, and nods his wolfy head with a gruff bark.

One final inhale, and I drop the flame into the chalice.

It ignites in a flash of blue flame, and a chorus of sharp howls splits the night.

Five

The wolvesin front of me drop to the ground, as though the air has gained a hundred pounds.

The howling has stopped. Their bodies convulse and contract.

I don’t hear bones breaking, but the sheer sight of the transformation has me gripping the smoking chalice and engaging the muscles in my legs.

No matter how much I want to, I can’t go to them. There’s nothing I could do, anyway. And if I get close right now, one of them could hurt me without even realizing it.

It’s excruciating. I look at the antique clock behind them, watching the hands tick, praying for time to move faster, or the transformation to happen more quickly this time…

Thankfully, it does.

Less than eight minutes have elapsed before they’re still.

More man than wolf, but not easily mistaken for either, their new forms are quite clearly supernatural. But when they look up, it’s with their own eyes, and a clarity I doubt they had even with the potion I gave them.

Those intelligent eyes dart to the space behind me, and I look down, to where a quartet of ghostly gray wolves stand, shifting, waiting for command.

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