December Moon

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS Jill Ibrahim... once again you've proved to be an absolute gem. Your constructive comments and proofreading skills were spot on, helping to make December Moon even more fun to write (and correct). Thank you so much, I'd be lost without your advice! Thanks also to editor Ashley Kay McConnell, whose last minute corrections were invaluable. Shalini Boland, Johanna Frappier, Patti Roberts, Pauline Barclay... just a few of my fellow author pals who I am in awe of. Not only do you write the very best stories, but you're always there to put a smile on my face. You girls rock! Speaking of rocks... there can be only one and that has to be Michael, who is so incredibly supportive. Thanks babe. This book is for you. CHAPTER ONE December Moon had no idea that she was a witch. She had never given it a single thought. Why would she? Well, she hadn't given it a single thought until the day before her fifteenth birthday when she had silently wished that the gymnasium would flood. She was sick of humiliating herself with her rather severe lack of elegance on the floor... pointed out, rather loudly, by her fellow gymnasts. The other girls looked impressive, as they fluttered about the room like brightly coloured butterflies, full of elegance and composure. December, on the other hand, thought herself more akin to Alice in Wonderland's caterpillar. Imagine December's surprise when she began to hear the gentle whooshing sound that usually accompanies an overflowing bathtub. A noise that slowly became louder and louder, until water literally began pouring into the gymnasium from all directions. And it wasn't even raining. “What the...?” Miss Finnegan screeched. “Everybody form an orderly line and exit the gymnasium as soon as you can!” she yelled in her posh English accent to her students, after turning puce from blowing so hard on the red whistle that always hung around her stiff, blotchy neck. December knew something wasn't quite right with the whole scenario, considering the gymnasium had never posed a flood threat before and the fact that there was no plumbing anywhere near the building. The changing rooms were situated at the far end of the school... a design she had never entirely understood. As all the girls and boys panicked and flocked to the exit in one mad rush, December slowly took her time. It was only water, after all, and a little bit of water never hurt anyone. Well, it had never hurt me, she thought. Precisely at that moment, the water that had begun seeping into her black plimsolls and wetting her feet, receded, leaving her feet and ankles entirely, and strangely, dry. Eyes wide in amazement, December surveyed the scene around her as one last student ran across the large mat in the centre of the room, it squelching beneath her feet. She was the last to leave. Even Miss Finnegan hadn't waited to make sure all her students had escaped unharmed and dry. The water continued to pour in from each corner of the room, large droplets plopping around her from the ceiling and walls. Bits of green painted plaster broke away from the wall and fell down, bobbing up and down in the ankle-high water below. December looked down at the floor and noticed that water was everywhere except within a small circular area surrounding her feet. As she moved, the dry circular area moved with her, like a bouncing bubble. Before she could work out what was happening, gymnasium equipment began to fall and crash to the floor with the force of the running water. How can this be? She thought. Then she remembered her silent wish, surely not? No, there had to be a rational explanation to all of this. I couldn't possibly be responsible. But the dry bubble around her told her a very different story. As much as December wanted to hang around and enjoy watching the gym fill up with water, abruptly putting an end to her least favourite subject, she knew Miss Finnegan would eventually notice she was missing. So she skipped from the flooded room and out into the unusually bright sunlight of the October English afternoon. # It had been nearly a year since her best friend, Lilly, had left her behind in England and moved to Canada. It had proved to be a long and lonely year for December. After Lilly's parents had vanished, she had moved to the other side of the world to a town called Powell River in the province of British Columbia. December had been so sad that her friend had to go, but she was also really pleased for her. They had stayed in touch and Lilly had sent numerous emails telling her all about the beauty surrounding her and the loving family that had welcomed her with open arms. December suspected that there was more to Lilly's newfound happiness. She suspected there was something her friend wasn't telling her. After a few years of being the very best of friends, December knew Lilly too well to not know when something was going on, but she hadn't asked her about it. She knew that Lilly would tell her, whatever 'it' was when the time was right. For now, December had her own boring life to worry about. Since Lilly's departure, her life had returned to the same awful day-to-day experiences of having to stay out of her Aunt Penelope's way and dodge the cruel comments by some of her more horrible classmates. She secretly daydreamed about the day that her own mother would return to take her home, to rescue her from her only other family member; the rich aunt, who had only agreed to look after her because her late brother, December's father, had requested it. That and the fact that there was probably money involved, she thought later that day, when her chauffeur arrived to collect her from the school that was just across the road from Lilly's apartment. The apartment from where her parents had disappeared. Looking up, December half expected to see that strange woman in white who had stood in precisely the same spot day after day to make sure Lilly had gone to, and returned from, school. She shivered as a dark black cloud moved overhead. The hairs on the back of December's neck prickled and stood on end. Strange, she thought. It was almost as if she was being watched. December turned and looked all around her. The usual stream of students flowed from the school gates. Some of the boys kicked a football and laughed as it hit one unexpectedly on the back of the head. “Oy!” he shouted, with a laugh as he picked it up and kicked it as hard as he could back at his friend. A couple of girls giggled at the group in an attempt to get their attention. On the other side of the street, there was the usual bustling of stallholders trying to sell their many wares, everything from freshly cut flowers to second-hand books. People were going about their business. December could see no-one looking at her. She shrugged her shoulders and hopped into the back seat of the black Range Rover. “Have a good day, Miss Moon?” asked the driver, a man of about sixty with shoulder-length hair as white as his crisp shirt. While on duty, he wore it in a neat ponytail at the nape of his neck. She rolled her eyes at him and grinned. “After all these years, I wish you'd call me December, Monty. You should know by now that I'm nothing at all like that aunt of mine,” she tutted, smiling, although the smile didn't quite reach her eyes. “And my day was, well, let's just say that it was interesting.” He nodded and returned her smile, showing a toothy grin. “Sorry, Miss, it's a habit, I suppose. Your Aunt Penelope would hate to hear me call you anything other than Miss Moon. Oh, I did it again, didn't I?” he laughed while shaking his head. “I've been driving you to and from this school for years...Mi... December and I don't recall you ever describing your day as interesting, not since Miss Taylor left, anyhow. Want to talk about it?” he asked as a gap in the traffic finally allowed him to pull away from the kerb by the school. Monty was the only other person December felt she could talk to. He had been in the Moon's employment since she was a toddler and he had probably been more like family than any of her actual family members. Although it was clear that her Aunt Penelope wasn't keen on him, she had kept him on, purely at her dying brother's request. As they drove through the London traffic and headed in the direction of Battersea where they had lived her entire life, December regaled Monty with the strange story of the flooded gymnasium. What she did neglect to tell him, however, was the fact that even when the water completely surrounded her, she was kept dry by an unexplained bubble at her feet. A bubble that she was keen to get to the bottom of. CHAPTER TWO That night, December dreamed of the flood, but this time, the other kids hadn't been able to escape. The gym was completely full of water, from floor to ceiling, and she was surrounded by the bodies of the drowned. Yet, December remained bone dry, even though she stood right in the middle of the chaos. A giant air bubble kept her safe, and she was the only survivor. Even worse, in the dream, December hadn't a care in the world. She wasn't the least bit bothered by the dead bodies that bobbed around her. Even Miss Finnegan floated by, with her eyes wide open in absolute terror. The whistle was no longer attached to her neck, but floating around behind her. What did come as a massive shock, and immediately jolted her out of her sleep, was the presence of her best friend, Lilly. Startled awake, December realised her body was covered in a fine film of sweat. She shivered and wrapped the blanket around her before she hopped out of bed. Holding the cover tight, she tiptoed to the window. The moon was full and bright. The brightest she had ever seen it. Noticing the alarm clock, she saw that it was just after midnight. It was her birthday. December was fifteen years old, and it was a Saturday, so she didn't have to go to school in the morning. Yay! Grabbing her laptop, she jumped back into bed. While she waited for the machine to switch back on, she gazed out of the window at that extraordinary vision of white. Captivating, she thought. Moments later, her computer leapt into life, and she saw her messenger was flashing. She clicked it open and saw that Lilly had been trying to get hold of her. DECEMBER MOON: I'm here A couple of minutes passed when she saw 'Lilly Tulugaq is typing a message'. Smiling, December leaned over and grabbed the packet of chocolate chip cookies that she so loved. She took one out and took a bite while she waited. Lilly still hadn't gotten the hang of fast typing, she smirked to herself. LILLY TULUGAQ: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU, HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAR DECEMBER...... HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!!!!!!! DECEMBER MOON: lol... thanks, hun. That took you ages! LILLY TULUGAQ: still a slow typer DECEMBER MOON: yup, deffo. How's life? Any news yet? Sitting alone in her bedroom on the other side of the world, Lilly instinctively knew that December was asking if there had been any further news on the whereabouts of her father. Although she had been unable to tell December the whole truth about her new life, she had offered a slightly alternative explanation: that the woman she had always thought of as her mother (Vivian) had actually been a kidnapper and murderer who had killed her real mother and sister and taken her and her father hostage. What she neglected to tell her was that Vivian was eventually killed by a good vampire called Carmelo who was now part of the family. That, and the fact that Lilly was now able to morph into a mountain lion. All things paranormal had become part of Lilly's life, but it was something that, for the safety of her and her family, she had to keep to herself.