Page 26 of Bewicched

On the one hand, great. I’m sure we could use those claws in a fight. On the other, What. The. Fuck? Werewolves couldn’t transform isolated parts of their bodies. It took multiple minutes, depending on the strength of the wolf, to transform.

A cacophony of seabirds screeching rent the air. Not a moment later, a dead seagull laid at Declan’s feet.

I dropped into a crouch to avoid the birds—I always worry they’re going to go for my hair—and cast a spell. We couldn’t have Phil and the guys, or random tourists watch Wolverine over here tear apart seabirds.

“Do what you need to do,” I told him. “Anyone looking in this direction shouldn’t notice you now.”

“Good,” he said. “More birds are coming and this is about to get weird.”

I saw movement out of the corner of my eye. Worms. Hundreds of worms were pushing up out of the ground around us. Yuck? Sure. But what the hell was a worm going to do?

“Worms?” he said, sounding more confused than anything. “Pick up the bowl and move. The birds can eat the worms.”

With a laugh, I grabbed the silver bowl and ran to the road, heavy footsteps pounding the earth behind me. When I got to the sidewalk, I turned. Declan was standing halfway between the water and the road. Most of the birds had been distracted by the snacks. A few remembered their mission and Declan tore them apart.

My mom pulled up a moment later. Declan walked to us, claws retracted, shaking his head.

“What kind of attack was that?” He sounded both grumpy and offended.

“An ineffective one?” I shrugged.

Mom flew out of the car, looking perfectly put together, of course.

“Darling, really. Why are you so close to the road? People will see us over here.” She was pulling the bowl from my hands as she chastised me.

I felt a comforting thump on my shoulder before I responded, “Because whoever set the curse just attacked with birds.”

“And worms,” Declan added.

I couldn’t help it. I just started laughing. All the stress and worry came tumbling out in uncontrolled laughter. When I turned, Declan was wearing an amused grin and watching me, eyes crinkled at the sides.

“Arwyn, this is serious.” Mom had the bowl on the hood of her car. After that quick reprimand, her lips returned to moving soundlessly as her fingers twitched in a spell.

While Mom worked, I plopped down on the dirt and grass to wait. I hugged my knees to my chest, the coat covering me completely. Stacking my arms on my knees, my chin on my arms, I waited for her pronouncement.

Declan stood behind me, his legs touching my back, an invitation to lean on him. I didn’t, but it was tempting.

Mom lifted her head and held out a hand. I pulled the water bottle from the coat pocket and started to get up, but Declan took it from me and handed it to my mom.

“And who are you?” Mom at her most imperious.

“Mom, this is Declan. Declan, this is my mom Sybil,” I said, gesturing between the two.

Mom stared for the briefest of moments and then took a step back. It felt overly dramatic and beneath her.

“Yes, he’s a werewolf. Jeez, Mom.”

She barely spared me a glance. “Obviously he’s a werewolf,” she muttered. “I hadn’t been told one of the Quinn line still existed. Our family has a connection with the Quinns, you kn—”

“We have a connection? You never told me that. The woman I made the chess set for was a Quinn wolf.” I watched her pour water on the fetish, a spell on her lips.

Declan was suddenly crouched beside me. “What Quinn wolf?”

But I wasn’t done with my mom yet. “Is that why I was dreaming about her all the time? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“There’s another Quinn?” Declan asked again.

The urgency in his voice distracted me from my mother and her endless secrets.

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