Rebel Moon Excerpt

CHAPTER 1

It was dark and quiet in my room. Everyone left for their own homes hours ago. Time seemed to be crawling by second by second. I checked my alarm clock. The numbers glowed red in the darkness. It was two o’clock in the morning. I should have been asleep and on my third dream by then. Especially after the week I’d had, but I couldn’t seem to keep my eyes closed for more than a few minutes at a time.

I tossed and turned under the warm flannel sheets and heavy comforter, until I finally curled into a ball on my right side. I felt the hot tears roll down my cheeks before I knew I was crying. I was aware that come morning I wouldn’t believe I had such a girly moment. I mean, it would be okay if I was crying over the previous night’s fight with Hunter Vamps and a Demon of all things; or if I was crying because of another birthday going by without my parents here to wish me luck and joy or whatever it is parents wish their children on their birthdays; or even if it was because of the way I lost that final game of Scrabble to Alessio after my birthday cake last night, but no, I wasn’t crying for any of those reasons. I was crying because of my hair.

Yup, my hair. Oh, grow up, Grazi! What a freaking weirdo! I mean, come on, so what that I hadn’t cut my hair in almost ten years. It was just hair. Yeah, but it was my hair. Oh, great! More tears. I sobbed as I pictured the thick dark waves the way they used to be.

My hair had grown so long over the years that it had reached my hips in places. After my first change a streak of pure platinum cut through it like lightning. At first it was disconcerting, but it grew on me. Much like I had accepted my Wolf as part of me so quickly and easily, the color of my hair had become a part of me as well. I supposed I could give myself a teeny break. I mean, it wasn’t like I chose to have my hair cut or anything. A Demon had actually, sort of, cut it for me. The jerk.

I knew I shouldn’t be acting like this, but I couldn’t help it. I was just so used to having it long. Sure I kept it in braids and ponytails to keep it from tangling, and it was getting in the way when I sparred with the others, I supposed it could be said I mostly ignored it, but it was still mine. To have it forcibly cut was just too much. I was still numb from the fight otherwise I didn’t think I’d have let Cara near me with a scissor.

That Wolf didn’t really like me too much, but for whatever reason I did let her near me and after she had finished trimming it and evening out the mess the Demon had made, about a foot and a half of my hair was gone. Poof. No goodbye. No awesome hair donation with my picture in the paper or anything like that to be proud of. Nope. It was just gone. Taken from me without my consent or input.

It wasn’t much in the greater scheme of things. I mean it was only hair and yeah, it still reached down to the middle of my back. It would probably even make fighting easier having it this length, but still. It was mine. Then I cried even harder. Alone in my room. In the dark. On Thanksgiving night which also happened to be my birthday. Get. A. Grip.

Sixteen years old. I’m sixteen. Wow. I sniffled and reached out for a tissue from the box on my bedside table. I blew my nose and wiped my eyes. I hated the way I looked when I cried. Ugh. Short hair and a red nose. Perfect.

I thought about my birthday again. It hadn’t been a bad one. Truth be told it was probably the best birthday I had ever had. Nonna, Angela, Alessio, Uncle Sean, Dimitri, Sascha, Cara, and of course, Ronan, had made it special in ways I could not even begin to describe.

Angela had given me a great birthday card. She made it herself. It was a printout of both of our WolfMoon avatars in dramatic fighting poses. She stuck it on some seriously nice card stock and covered it in Mod Podge making it glossy and slick. Inside she wrote, “There’s no one else I’d rather kick butt with! Happy Birthday, Grazi! Love, Angela ‘aka’ your awesome BFF <3 <3”

LOL. If she only knew how I kicked butt in the real world, perhaps she’d feel differently about our friendship. Ugh. Just something else to make my stomach turn.I hated keeping my secret from her. I’d have to figure out what to do about that. I was a little new to the whole friendship thing.

To have friends, real friends, and family, and a boyfriend to celebrate my birthday with was more than I had ever hoped for. It had been a great night, I was happy. Last year I would have never guessed any of this was possible.

Then again, it seemed like every single day I was finding out that there were more possibilities than I had ever expected. Like the fact that Witches, Demons and Vampires really did exist. And that I was a Werewolf, a Hound of God whose job it was to fight evil in order to save the world. No pressure.

Some Werewolf, huh? With my head buried in a pillow over a few inches of hair! Yup, you are a complete nut job, Grazi! Come on, you’re sixteen now. Enough with the waterworks! I sat up and blew my nose again. I brushed the shorter strands of hair back from my face and tried to think of something else. I was too old for this nonsense.

Two hundred years ago I would have been considered a woman. Able to marry and bear children. Fulfill my purpose so to speak. Nowadays, I was still considered a child. Even amongst my kind I was not an adult.

Nope, I was still an initiate. Werewolves weren’t considered to be full grown until eighteen years of age. That’s when I would have to undergo some sort of trials to see where I belonged in the Pack.

Uncle Sean had spoken to me briefly regarding the trials I would take when I turned eighteen. I wondered about it as I sat in my bed. Where would I fit in? Ronan had talked to me a little bit about the trials too. How they helped decide where a Wolf might best benefit his or her Pack. Like as a doctor, a soldier, a priest, a teacher. You know stuff like that. Kind of like a school aptitude test, but much more involved.

Geez, what kind of tangent was I on now? My mind wandered sometimes. I guess it was because I tended to remember a lot of things. That’s probably why I always did so well in school. I had often been told I had excellent memory skills.

I pushed my hair out of my eyes only to have the length of it stop short. It fell just past my shoulders in tighter waves than I was used too, I wondered if it would actually curl on rainy days. I always wanted curly hair. Like my mom’s. I sniffed as a fresh wave of tears poured from my eyes. Oh geez.

I fingered the wooden beads that hung from the mini dreamcatcher around my neck. Ronan had gotten together with Alessio and had him make it for me. He gave it to me for my birthday. It was beautiful. More than that it was sacred. Carved from a fallen branch from the Tree of Saints, the beads were considered holy and revered by Werewolves. Well, Catholic Werewolves, anyway.

Ronan had taken them from his own private store of beads his mother had made for him. She had secured a small branch from the sacred tree on a pilgrimage she took as a young woman. It seemed wild to me, the idea of religious pilgrimages in the twenty-first century, but hey, who was I to judge? I decided then and there that the necklace would be my good luck charm. I sat up, reached for another tissue and wiped my face. I can’t believe this! It’s hair! Come on! Okay, Grazi, I think that is really enough.

I was never going to get any sleep, especially feeling like that, so I turned on the lamp next to my bed and swung my legs to the side. That’s when I saw something out of place. It surprised me. I think I even gasped out loud.

There on my bedside table was a flower. A red rose. I hadn’t noticed it before.Weird. It was wrapped in cellophane. Maybe that was why I didn’t smell the subtle fragrance coming from its petals? I shrugged at myself and reached out my hand.

I picked it up gently. Maybe it was from Ronan. A romantic gesture? A smile played at the corner of my mouth. Refreshing after all that crying. I took off the plastic wrapper and leaned down to smell the soft flowery scent. My nose wrinkled as the scent reached my supernaturally sensitive nostrils.

The rose smelled off, like air freshener instead of an actual flower. Likeimitation rose. Then, almost immediately, it began to wilt. I brought it closer to my face, scared my enhanced eyesight was failing, then I held it at arm’s length and sure enough the delicate petals were turning gray and the stem and leaves an unhealthy shade of brown. The thing started to crumble and decay right there in my hands.

I jumped out of bed and dropped the rose on top of the comforter. The petals, the stem, the thorns, the entire thing was turning to ash and dust. I scooped up the remnants determined to get them the heck out of my room. It smelled horrible. Like sulfur. I brought the mess to the bathroom and flushed them down the toilet.

Who would leave me such a hideous gift? It was awful! I washed my hands under a hot spray of water. It stung, but only barely, I scrubbed and scrubbed with a bar of Ivory soap. That was definitely not a gift from Ronan. Chills ran up and down my spine. I looked frantically around the room. My Wolf was right there with me in my mind, waiting to help should the need arise. It’s empty, Grazi, you’re alone in here.

That should have made me feel better, but it didn’t. My heart thudded in my chest. I grabbed the Lysol spray from the bathroom and sprayed the bed and table. I shook out the comforter and the pillow, spraying my supersized bottle of Lysol disinfectant liberally on each of them. I felt tainted and dirty somehow. As if the dust the rose had turned into infected me. My skin, my hair, the air in my room. Ugh.

My Wolf growled in my mind. Her agitation was clear enough to me. One thing was certain, I had had a visitor at some point today. An unwelcome one and not even a house full of Werewolves detected it. The thought left me terrified. I sat down on the freshly made bed and tried to think. Who did this? Who came into my room and left me that foul gift?

Pain seared through my right arm. The mark was burning. I knew without looking that it would be glowing faintly and the color would increase as the pain did. Blood red swirls and Demonic symbols that I didn’t really understand. I felt it sizzling beneath my hand as I gripped it. It was like how I imagined it would feel to be branded.

The pain was sharp and fresh. I released my hold on my arm as I realized I was doing more damage by squeezing it. Instead, I gripped the headboard for support until it passed. They were searching for me. Taunting me. I don’t know how I knew that, I just did. I couldn’t stay in my room all alone. I was paranoid, afraid, and utterly spent. I went to the window.

It was frosted over. The temperature must have been in the teens, but I opened the window easily. I forgot my own strength sometimes and it made a banging noise when I jerked it up. I waited, but there was no noise coming from the rest of the house.

Good, I didn’t wake Nonna. I stepped onto the narrow ledge, shut the window and jumped to the ground in nothing but my PJs and slipper socks. It was becoming common practice. I didn’t even have to look where I was going anymore.

Minutes later I was in Ronan’s room. He heard me coming and had already opened his window. It was as if he read my mind, I really didn’t want to go in through the front door. I didn’t feel like explaining to Uncle Sean and the others. What could I say anyway? Um, there was a Demon in my room earlier and he left me a self-destructing rose, but I have absolutely no proof because I flushed the ashes down the toilet? Yeah, I didn’t think that would go over so well. And besides I was really, really tired.

Was it only a few days ago that I had been attacked by hellfire? It seemed longer. My body was almost fully healed, but my mind, not so much. Even Werewolves with special healing abilities needed time. I supposed my psychic scars would last longer than my physical ones. I mean, it wasn’t every day that I had to fight Demons, and thank God, because I wasn’t so certain I could handle much more than what had already transpired. Sleep. I wanted sleep and maybe a little bit of security too.

Ronan’s room was on the ground floor so I just had to pull myself up over the painted white windowsill and I was inside. By the way, I loved the way Ronan smelled. It must be a Werewolf thing because with regular people I smelled things like deodorant, soap and what someone ate for breakfast. Sometimes I caught a whiff of how they felt, but on Werewolves or Romani, like Alessio, what I smelled had more to do with what was inside of them. Less told me it was their anima magicae, the heart of their powers that I was picking up. Well, whatever it was called, Ronan’s was just beautiful.

His spicy fresh scent hit me as soon as he had opened his narrow window. It was stronger inside. That made sense, after all, it was his room. His den so to speak. He smelled like the forest to me. Like nutrient rich earth, clean, crisp air, tall evergreens, new grass, and strong oaks, birches, and walnuts. His smile was like the sun itself, warming me from my cheeks down to the center of my stomach.

Pure of heart. It was my Wolf. She spoke to me in my mind sometimes. She explained what I was getting from his scent. Ronan’s heart was pure and it beat for me. I knew this in my own way. It was a heady feeling, knowing that he loved me.

Ronan didn’t ask questions. He waited for me to settle down on his firm mattress. Compared to my bed it was almost as hard as the floor, but his comforter was soft and fluffy so I guessed that made up for it.

He sat next to me, careful with his posture not to offend. I realized my Wolf was showing again. I counted to ten with my eyes closed, when I could see our Wolves side by side in my mind’s eye, I smiled and when I opened my eyes again Ronan smiled at me and pulled me into his arms. I went without hesitation.

I never felt as good as I did when his arms were wrapped around me. It was both peaceful and heart-pounding at the same time. I didn’t know what that meant, I just knew it felt right. I relished the quiet that settled over us while he held me. He never rushed, never insisted, he was probably the most patient teenager on the planet. But then again he wasn’t exactly a typical teenager. He was Wolf, he was Pack, his customs a bit more old fashioned, like his speech sometimes.

I told him everything that had just happened. From my rather embarrassing crying jag over my hair all the way up to the tainted rose and the pain from the mark on my arm. Just talking to him about it made me feel better.

“We should tell Fr. Gallagher, Maria. It could mean something. Maybe he could get a scent.” His voice was calm, but there was no disguising the anxiety behind it. His first instinct was to protect me. Always.

I could see his Wolf in my mind. He stood tall, and proud. On his chest was a patch of dark fur in the shape of a High Celtic cross. It stood out black against all of the reds and golds that made up his gorgeous coat. I placed my hand over his heart where the same symbol sat on his muscled body. It was almost like a tattoo, but no needle had created the symbol, it was something he got during his first change. Like the platinum streak in my hair. I thought of it as magic, but I knew the Hounds would not like that.

I felt warmth radiating from his cross under my hand. I smiled and in my mind I watched as his Wolf dipped his head and nuzzled my Wolf. His was huge. Almost twice the size of my Wolf.

He wrapped his big Wolf body around mine in an embrace that mirrored ours. She bore it well, his fussing, but I knew what she was thinking. LOL. Still, sometimes it’s not only nice, but necessary to simply be taken care of no matter how strong you are. With that thought in mind, we both snuggled deeper into Ronan and his Wolf.

“I tried that already. There was nothing there.” I answered his question and held him tighter. I really didn’t want to move. My head ached mildly from all the crying I did and I was worn out.

“I wish I had been there with you. I’m sorry you had to go through that alone. Still, Fr. Gallagher might be able to try something, Maria.”

“Can we wait till morning? I’m so tired, Ronan. I don’t want to talk, or think, or dream.” I held my dreamcatcher necklace and rubbed the bead in the middle.

I moved my hand from his tattoo to cover his beaded necklace. The beads were warm and smooth. I could feel his heart beating beneath my head. It was a strong and steady beat. I knew I was safe.

I traced the carvings on the beads with my fingers. He had yet to tell me all of their meanings. The Celtic symbols were knew to me, but to him, they were just something he had grown up with. Hmm. That one’s new. It seemed he had added a carving to them since the last time I looked. I wanted to ask him what the new symbol meant, but I was so tired. Everything was finally catching up with me.

“I just want to sleep, Ronan. Let me just close my eyes for a little while.”

His lips thinned as he pondered the dilemma. He would always have my back. That I knew, but still it was hard for him not to follow protocol.

He was raised to be a Pack soldier. Breaking the rules was difficult for him, I knew that, and I felt bad asking him to. But I just couldn’t cope with all the questions. I knew it was a cop out, but I was entitled to one or two of those. Wasn’t I?

Exhaustion was affecting my judgment. I was still not one hundred percent healed from my last fight with the Hunter Vamps and my nightmarish encounter with the boy-faced Demon. The hellfire wounds had closed, but my wrist still itched and the mark on my arm throbbed painfully even as I sat there. It was bearable, but only by a fraction.

I was only just starting to settle down right then, in his arms. I hated being scared and all the fighting and healing I had to do because of my wounds left me drained and tired. Ronan held me tighter and we both snuggled down into his warm bed. The wind howled outside against the closed window. It was much colder than it should have been for Thanksgiving. I closed my eyes. He let me go for a moment and I sprung up. He exhaled as he leaned over the headboard and shut off the wall lamp.

I noticed a dreamcatcher hanging on the wall just above us. He must have put that there for me. I was touched. My protector. Ronan saw my gaze and smiled a little self-consciously.

“I had Alessio make me one too. In case you came over. Not that I was expecting you or anything. I mean, I, well you, um,” his cheeks turned bright pink.

His embarrassment made me smile. He was adorable when he blushed. I snuggled back into his side and lifted my tired eyes to look at him. I was so close to him I could see every millimeter of his face.

He really was so incredibly handsome. He had tucked his hair behind his ears. It went past his chin and shone in colors from dark auburn to the palest of strawberry blondes. Plenty of girls at school paid hundreds of dollars for dye jobs that couldn’t come close. It smelled like the lavender and peppermint shampoo he used. My fingers itched to get lost in it.

“It was thoughtful of you, Ronan. I like that you did that. Thank you.” My breathing slowed to match his. Suddenly my mouth felt a little dry and I licked my lips with just the tip of my tongue. He watched the movement intently. I wasn’t sure why, but I liked the way he was looking at me.

“I just thought that way you wouldn’t have to worry about nightmares or you know, dreamwalking, while you slept. I wanted you to feel safe here.” His breathing matched mine and whatever was in the air that made my lips dry must have affected him too because he licked his lips just then.

I smiled at him, maybe a little awkwardly, and settled back into my pillow. It was covered in a soft blue flannel sheet. Mmmm. It smelled like him. He was watching me just as closely as I watched him. I was flattered and excited. It made me feel good to be held and looked at by him. He made me feel special.

I wondered for a minute if I would feel this way about him were it not for our circumstances. That is, if we were just regular kids. Would we have fallen for each other? I guess I would never know; because I would never be a regular kid, and neither would he.

He put up a dreamcatcher, for me. Sweet. Just another fun fact about me. I’m a Werewolf and a Dreamwalker. It was exactly what it sounded like, I sometimes travelled in my dreams. Apparently I could also get hurt and maybe even die there too. Not so cool when you have witches and Demons constantly hunting you. Until I knew how to control it, I’d much rather I stayed put while I slept.

Being next to Ronan should have felt weird or made me nervous, but honestly it was the most at home I had ever felt. I mean it’s not like we had known each other that long and, sure, I resented the entire betrothal thing. But that was my brain working, not my heart.

He was a perfect gentleman, courteous if even a little old fashioned, but I suspected that was a result of how he was raised. My Wolf thought so too. I could see her in my mind’s eye with his Wolf. They rested side by side, mirroring Ronan and me.

I also really appreciated his self-control. We were after all, two teenagers alone in a room and all we were doing was going to sleep. Although right then I was having a little bit of a hard time keeping my thoughts off of his lips. I really loved his lips. They were the perfect shade of pink, and no, that’s not weird for a guy to have pink lips thank you very much. Not to mention, they were soft and so very sweet.

He wrapped his strong arms around me and I snuggled deeper, if that were even possible, into his warmth. I was safe right there in his arms, but I was also very aware of him. Blame it on a very sheltered upbringing or the simple fact that I am a teenager. I knew that if I hadn’t been physically and mentally exhausted I would have wanted a whole different kind of embrace.

Whoa, down girl! I felt my cheeks heating up and prayed Ronan’s eyes were closed. What would he think if he could hear my thoughts? Yikes. It was one thing to daydream about famous people when I was younger, but daydreaming about Ronan while I was in his bed. That was a little too close for comfort.

I was sixteen years old, but in all that time, despite what Jersey Shore reruns say about me and my fellow Jersey girls, I had never felt that way about anyone before. I had never even thought feelings like that were possible. The closest I had ever gotten to really crushing on a boy had been with Sebby, and my feelings for Ronan blew that ship right out of the water. No, not even my middle school One Direction crush came close.

There was just no comparison with him or any of the other boys at school. Ronan was not like anyone else. His physique alone was superb. I guess it helped that he was a Werewolf. He was tall and muscular, but nor overly so. He looked like an athlete.

I guess he was one, Werewolves do a lot of training and hard core playing. Extreme sports was kind of a thing and Ronan had already promised to take me snow-boarding this winter. I had never been snow-boarding.

Anyway, Ronan was young, just one year older than me. But even at seventeen, he excelled in most areas of combat and martial arts and his body showed his efforts off beautifully. I was tall for a girl, but next to him I almost felt small. He stood at least six inches taller than me and I swore he had grown an inch since he first came to my little New Jersey suburb a few months ago.

But more than his good looks or awesome bod, he was Ronan. He loved all things music related. He played piano and guitar and could sing like a rock star. He was funny and kind. He was always there for me. He proved himself day by day simply by being there. They say a girl chooses a boy just like her dad. Well, I never knew my dad, or at least I didn’t remember him, but I could see him being attentive, courteous, and loyal. Just like my Ronan.

I reached my hand out and ran my fingers through the soft waves of his hair. It was thick and soft and smooth and smelled clean and delicious, like him. He turned his head a fraction and caught my hand with his lips. It was a soft kiss, but strong enough to send my heart racing. His eyes closed as he kissed my palm once more. A slow, warm kiss.

We were so close to each other that I quickly memorized every detailed inch of his face. His skin was clear and white like ivory and he only had one or two stray freckles, they were almost brown and looked more like beauty marks. I never understood why the male of any species was the more beautiful, but I was grateful as I took in his chiseled features and oh so tempting lips.

His copper eyelashes were so long they brushed his skin. I knew when he opened them I would look into eyes as green as emeralds. They lightened to almost a peridot when he took his Wolf form. Beautiful. Not boring brown like my eyes. Ronan placed his large hand over mine and held it between us. His green eyes never leaving mine.

I wondered what he thought about when he looked at me. What interest could I hold for someone like him? I also wondered if I would ever know the answers to those questions.

I inhaled, taking in his spicy forest scent, it seemed to get stronger around me. I didn’t know if it was because I was a Werewolf or not, but to me, his scent was like coming home. Familiar, welcoming, warm, safe, and at the same time exciting and mysterious. I never thought I could be this close with anyone, especially not him. What a change from a few months ago when we met. I couldn’t stand him then. He was bossy, annoying, and a little bit rude.

I guess that’s what happened when you had to keep secrets. And he had been keeping so many secrets from me. Information on my parents’ deaths and our betrothal for example. Oh yeah, and he thought I was a little spoiled snob. Aprincess. Turns out I am sort of.

Heir to the throne so to speak. It seemed I had more claim to the position of Alpha in Greyback Pack than any other living Wolf after my grandfather, Rolf Kelly, the current Alpha. Scary, right? You betcha. How would I even begin to prepare for such a role? I pushed it to the back of my mind. It didn’t really interest me. Not right then anyway. Not like being able to make my own choices did.

As much as I loved Ronan, and it was scary to think of how much I really did love him, I didn’t want to be told that I had to be with him. I certainly didn’t want that to be the reason he was with me. People and even Werewolves shouldn’t be together because of a contract. They should be together because they fell in love. It was our choice, wasn’t it?

He turned fully onto his side and startled my thoughts right from my head. He moved even closer to me. His warm breath smelled like the cherry vanilla soda he must have drunk before I had arrived on his doorstep, or windowsill as was more accurate. He leaned forward and placed a kiss on my lips. He was sweet and warm and all I could think about was that I never wanted our kiss to end. But it did. Much too soon.

“Stop all that thinking and go to sleep, Maria. It’ll be morning soon enough.”

I smiled and let myself be swallowed up by his embrace. The last thing I remembered was the sound of our hearts beating in time. It was the best night’s sleep I had had in months.

“What in the name of God is going on in here?!”

Ronan jumped from the bed, landing in a defensive stance as I rolled over to meet the angry blue eyes of my uncle. Oopsies! I guess we overslept.

“Good morning, Uncle Sean.” What else could I have said? I sat up and tucked my hair behind my ear. His furious blue gaze swept over me and I looked down just to make sure I was decent.

I was in my flannel pajama pants and an oversized t-shirt, hardly risqué apparel. Ronan was in sweatpants and a tank top. No socks on either of us. I smiled a little, but it fell from my face when I looked into Uncle Sean’s super angry face.

“‘Good morning’?! Just what are you doing here, girl? And you, boyo, have you not got a lick of sense?” Uncle Sean wagged a long thick finger a little too close to Ronan’s face. It took longer than it should have for Ronan to back up and turn his head.

Uncle Sean was the dominant Wolf here and he was asserting himself for all he was worth. I could feel his anger, though it sort of wafted around me. Ronan on the other hand was trembling whether with submission or his own anger. I was not sure which one.

I could almost feel the two sides warring within him. He kept his eyes down, but I knew he wanted nothing more than to go on the attack. It was a Werewolf thing after all. This was Ronan’s room, his cave, his den, and Uncle Sean had burst in here. I was surprised he held on as good as he did. Ronan took a deep breath and unclenched his fists. I could feel him almost willing himself to relax.

“Father Gallagher, we, um, we were, that is, we were only sleeping, sir.”

“You better believe that you were only sleeping! My senses must be all mucked up for not scenting she was here to begin with! Only sleeping, ha! Now get a move on it or only sleeping is all you’ll ever be capable of doing! Go, get up, the two of you now, and get dressed! Make yourselves presentable, we’ve a meeting to attend,” he growled out the last bit.

His anger was almost tangible, but what the heck for? We hadn’t done anything wrong. I shook my head and gave Ronan a weak smile. He did not smile back. Uh oh.

I sat in the room that doubled as both Uncle Sean’s and Rolf’s study, depending on who was in residence, and waited for the others to arrive. I had already gone home and showered and dressed. It was only a jump way. Literally.

I leaned back in the armchair in my sneakers, black yoga pants and hooded sweatshirt. It was red with a huge front pocket that held my cell phone. My body temperature was hotter these days and I didn’t usually wear sweaters or sweatshirts, but it was frigid outside. Barely twenty degrees and the weather forecaster warned it would continue to drop steadily throughout the week.

It was a shame, we had skipped autumn almost completely. I loved living in New Jersey precisely because I got to see the seasons change. I couldn’t imagine living someplace that was always cold or always warm.

I had looked forward to each passing season with enthusiasm since I was a little kid. Different seasons meant different holidays and traditions. As far back as my memory allowed I could picture planting Nonna’s garden with her and Uncle Vito in the early spring, tending to it all summer, harvesting and canning in the fall, and baking and eating all winter, but the seasons hadn’t been behaving as usual this past year.

The summer had been hotter and longer than ever. We had had a bad drought and Nonna’s garden suffered because of it. No amount of toiling or prayer had helped. The fall had been basically nonexistent. It went from blazing heat to completely frigid overnight. I had learned a few months ago that it was all because of Witches.

I still found that difficult to understand. My brain hurt from trying to wrap my mind around the undisputable fact that Witches were real. So were Werewolves. Amongst other things. Here be monsters…

My new reality was like this; dark Witches wanted to bring Demons into our plane of reality in order to control the world. To achieve this they employed ancient means of manipulating the weather. It sounded stupid to me too. I mean, who cared about the weather? Well, as it turned out, it’s a really big deal.

Severe weather made for basic discomfort, anxiety, nastiness, not to mention bad crop yields, freak accidents, despair, death and worse, loss of hope. Basically making the world a perfect playground for evil.

That’s where we came in, the Hounds of God. Hopefully, we weren’t too late. According to Ronan, it was going to take a good deal of convincing to make the Catholic Church stand up and notice that this was not just global warming, this was evil at work. Even more would have to be done before the Church would sanction an all-out war against the covens responsible.

Many doubted they still existed. My father was one of the few who believed that war was imminent, but he hadn’t managed to convince many others about it in his lifetime. During his pursuit for truth and to get the proof he needed to convince the other Hounds, he, my mother, and my unborn brother, died. I was left an orphan, raised by my grandmother without ever knowing any of this until only a few months ago.

Most days I just tried to wrap my head around things that I could understand. Like the unusual weather. It was caused by the Witches, not global warming, though technically I figured the industries responsible for global warming were probably run by the Demons who controlled the Witches too. I had yet to discuss that theory with anyone, but it was there in the back of my mind along with many other things. My new reality was so much bigger than I had ever dreamed it could be.

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