Page 4 of Blue Moon Mistress

“Yes. I could stop the full moon transformation, or, I could turn you into a wolf on the third day of a waxing crescent.”

“So, any timeyouchose.” Joshua says.

“No, the binding is tenuous. You can break it any time you want. If I were to force the change on you, you would be able to break the ties that held us together. And you would return to changing only on the full moon.”

“Would we go back to full wolves?”

“No, the unbinding spell would be woven beneath it, shedding it like a coat would not remove the layer below.”

“What does that part of the spell entail?” Johnny asks.

And now, I know, at least they’re considering it.

“It’s a sex ritual. After you are changed from wolf to wolf-man and have your faculties again, I’ll give you the option. That spell does not require all of you. If only one of you wants that power, only one of you has to take me up on it. If you all do…” Somehow spelling it out has made me less confident, but I force a smile. “We’ll all have fond memories of a blue moon Samhain.”

Picking up my umbrella, I walk to the front door, and turn back to them. They’re standing in the doorway still, Joshua with them now. They make a delicious picture

“Think about my offer. I hope to see you in the cemetery in two day’s time.”

Leaving them to make the right choice—whatever that might be—I carefully make my way back down the oddly sloping steps, and to my car.

They might not have watched me arrive, but I know they’re watching me now. So I don’t take an extra moment to blow out the stressed breath that threatens in my lungs. I place my purse and umbrella back on the passenger side and punch the button to start the ignition.

I drive away from them without looking back and, hopefully, head into a safer future.

Two

The knockon my door the next morning doesn’t surprise me.

They were bound to seek me out for more information.

Whatdoessurprise me, is that only Joshua has come to talk. Werewolves, even out of their transformation, tend to find safety in numbers.

It’s my turn to invite him in.

Another visitor might have waited for the time to tick over into the double digits before he came calling, but Joshua doesn’t seem to care—or even notice—that I am still in my robe.

“You found me.” I say as I lead him through the house, to the kitchen at the back.

“I did.”

I don’t have to look to know he’s giving my home a thorough inspection.

His voice is deep, rasping in the cold morning. “You’re not the only one who can hunt someone down.”

“Did you sniff me out?” I smile as I fill the kettle and place it on the already brightening burner.

“No, though you are secluded enough, I can understand how you might think that’s necessary.”

I turn back as he flicks the frond of a palm away from his face and steps over the threshold into the kitchen. His gaze moves to the cabinets—not surprising, he’s a carpenter—and I almost ask if he wants to give me an estimate to replace them.

“Isolation has more benefits than it has downsides when you’re in the business of witchcraft in a small town.”

“The location is cliche, the house…” He looks around, and I follow his gaze. The house is contemporary and I imagine he expected some cute little cottage. He was probably thinking of a dark house, stuffed with potion ingredients and dusty tomes—like the one I’d had to tear down after it almost collapsed. The one my great-great-grandfather had built.

Instead, Joshua has found wide windows—for the plants—flooding the space with morning light despite the trees and the clouds that are drizzling down on us.“What do you need to know for tomorrow night?” I ask, pretty sure he’s not here for the coffee.

“Just more details… how much fur, how long is it going to take, how can we avoid anyone else figuring out what we are? Small things.”

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