Libby and Anna spent hours researching their mother's books, pouring over their fragile parchment and fading calligraphy. Her collection of paraphernalia and odds and sods was absolutely mind boggling but thankfully well organized and cataloged. They'd gathered everything Libby would require and she was keen to begin. Anna kissed her goodnight and left her alone in the attic room.
Libby stood beneath the window illuminated by the waning gibbous moon. She dropped her robe and naked, basked in its silver glow. She smiled at the feeling of power growing within her. Everything was perfect and her pulse was racing with excitement. It was time to begin.
Libby marked the four corners of the room with lit candles; their flames flickered and swayed casting a mesh of dancing shadows.
A large circle had been scribed in the center of the room by Libby's great grandmother and her sisters, though worn, it was still clearly visible. Libby walked around the circle three times then stepped in and sat cross legged on an old cushion in its center. Everything she required was spread out within the circle. She whispered an appropriate blessing and began.
Libby grasped a weighty, jeweled blade in her right hand and drew a line across her left palm. She winced at the sting and centered the flow over an ornate ink well. The blood droplets ballooned and curled in the clear fluid in the vessel. She quickly dressed her wound and held the crystal well up to the moon light giving it a swirl; the crimson turned an inky black.
Libby licked the nib of Raven's quill pen and dipped it into her ink. She smoothed a small square of parchment; it looked the skin of an ancient, and wrote in elaborate script --
Ian Alexander
. The tail of the 'R' extended and enveloped the name in a heart,
that
ink returned to its original crimson red just as was described in her mother's book. Libby gently blew the ink dry and rolled the parchment securing it with a delicate red ribbon.
Setting the parchment roll aside, Libby took a hand dipped candle Anna had found in one of their mother's many wooden boxes. They had wondered if their mother foresaw its use on this night. The candle was thick, long and red, a roughly shaped phallus. She smiled thinking of Ian. He would belong to her on the coming blue moon. His alpha power would be hers and the near immortality of a Were -- the thing she craved most.
Libby removed the bandage from her hand and tipped a vial of pungent smelling oil into her palm. It immediately reopened the wound and small beads of blood rose from the red stripe and floated in the oil. She briskly rubbed her hands together, blending and warming the oil and blood until she thought her skin might burn with the heat. Libby grasped the red candle with both hands and began to caress its length. She closed her eyes and envisioned doing the same to Ian. She entwined his name in a chant of unworldly sounds, repeating it over and over as the candle warmed to her touch.
Libby opened a small Ziploc and retrieved three hairs she had stolen from Ian's head as she left him with Kate the other morning. She pressed them deep into the phallic candle and smoothed over the hollow burying them within the soft wax.
Libby continued to sway and chant and massage the candle deep into the night. Eventually the flames at the four corners stuttered and died leaving Libby in the grey light of pre dawn.
Her hands were throbbing around the candle. It was as hot as her own skin yet no longer pliable, it was as rigid as stone. Libby's fingers glided over the candle's surface as though reading braille. Libby knew this candle was now the perfect likeness of a perfectly erect Ian. She smiled, "I
am
impressed dear. This might turn out to be quite enjoyable."
Libby stood and stretched grasping the light cord above her head. The illuminated vision of Ian's red candle in her hands filled her with lust and need. "Damn it! I can't risk everything on a little test drive; the real thing is going to be so much better." She gave the candle a kiss and carefully placed it in its box.
I unearthed some Assam tea I had tucked away for special occasions, Ian approved. I thought of slipping him some Lipton to see if he could actually tell the difference. But trust is such a delicate thing in a new relationship I decided to keep the secret taste test for another day. We cuddled on the couch, sipping tea with Brubeck playing in the background.
"Aiden a grandfather, that's just not right. I get that he's so much older than he looks, but a grandpa?" I shook my head.
"That he doesn't have any other children or grandchildren is infinitely more shocking."
"He's never found his other half?" An overwhelming sadness crept into my happy heart. "I always thought he was a lonely soul in spite of the constant entourage of girlies."
"He gave up the hunt many years ago. He met a Were in England, an older woman who somehow convinced him that she was his mate. Apparently she was
very
convincing, had half of our family eating out of her hand." Ian frowned. "I was in Constantinople at the time but returned for the blue moon, for their ceremony."
Ian's thoughts raced away and I couldn't follow them.
When Ian spoke, I heard his thoughts as a sort of echo laced with emotions. When he was quiet I felt his emotions like ripples or tsunamis, unless he 'spoke' in his mind. Sometimes there was nothing. I assumed that he could close his mind's door and keep me out.
He was quiet for a long while and something about him looked very old or pained. I touched his hand and he returned to me.
"As it happens, what she really wanted was the next Alpha. She thought it was Aid, and he was, while I was away. I arrived during the ceremony and joined everyone in my wolf form.
She could tell that I was the successor to alpha by the way my family greeted me. She slinked over to me and gave me her underside and neck -- without a glance back to Aiden, right in the middle of their ceremony. She left him for me, for the Alpha rather. It crushed him, destroyed a part of him. He left, ran off into the woods. He wandered through Europe and didn't come back to England for years."
"What did you do?" I asked carefully.
"I tore her throat out."
The rumble of Aiden's bike rescued our thoughts, returning them to present day. Ian raised his brows, "this should be interesting."
"This is Zoe, my granddaughter." Aiden beamed with a mixture of pride and awkwardness. "Zoe, Kate and Ian my cousin." Aiden completed the introductions.
Zoe gave me a flicker of a smile. The smile she gave Ian was absolutely blinding. I placed my hand in Ian's but she didn't seem to notice.
"You look nothing like Aiden, thank God! Ian elbowed his cousin.
"I don't know, I think we have the same lips." Zoe licked her lips.
"Hmmm" Ian was studying the similarities.
Yeah, they're manly
Ian snorted at my thoughts and squeezed my hand.
Zoe barely noticed that I was in the room or that Ian and I were obviously together. She touched Ian's arm as she spoke "So, you're a werewolf too. I want to learn more about us, about you. Everything." She glanced at me to ensure that I felt excluded.
My blood was beginning to boil.
Aiden giggled and grabbed my arm pulling me into the kitchen. "Shall we make some of those charming cucumber sandwiches you're so fond of? Kate?!" He dragged me away.
"Come on." He turned on the kitchen radio and raised the volume laughing all the while.
"What are you doing?" I was puzzled and annoyed. I needed to get back to guarding Ian.
"You're so fucking hysterical!" Aiden spoke in a laughing whisper. "Jealousy doesn't suit you Kate."
"I'm not jealous!" Was it that obvious?
"Get used to it honey. He's an Alpha and the girls all want a piece of it."
I was about to give Aiden a piece of my jealous wrath but a feeling of woe collapsed onto my shoulders. I might be able to fight off Zoe, but all of female kind?
