December Moon

Chapter 3

“Nothing, Amelia. I was just muttering to myself,” she said with a smile.

December was actually quite fond of all the staff members that worked for her aunt. She knew what it was like to be bossed around and treated like dirt. December was treated in precisely the same way, after all. But Monty was the only one that she actively talked to and whose company she enjoyed the most.

“Oh Miss Moon... I almost forgot. Happy birthday,” Amelia said, entirely out of the blue.

“Oh... oh, thank you,” answered December with a grin. She didn't often receive birthday wishes from anybody other than Lilly and Monty, so anything else came as a complete surprise.

“This is for you,” she said, handing December a small box wrapped in garish orange paper. “Your aunt asked me to give it to you when you woke up.”

“She... she did?”

Completely confused, December wasn't quite sure what to do with it. Her aunt always forgot her birthday. No, that's not quite right. Her aunt never forgot her birthday at all. Her aunt just wasn't interested. She didn't care. So why was this year any different?

“I think the idea is to open it?” said a voice from outside the kitchen window. Looking beyond the huge Belfast kitchen sink, out of the window, December noticed Monty tending to the rose bush just beneath the windowsill. He had stopped and was watching her, looking equally stunned.

Amelia had smiled at her shyly before exiting the room to continue with her duties.

“I don't get it,” said December, leaning over the sink and out of the window, “why is this year so special?”

The gardener/chauffeur and general dogsbody Monty shrugged his shoulders and shook his head.

“Happy birthday Miss Mo.... December. Go on. Open it.”

Frightened that it might be something more akin to a ticking bomb than an actual birthday present, December held the box at arm's length, shook it and then listened. When it made no sound, she slowly unwrapped the paper while Monty chuckled and shook his head at her funny behaviour.

After removing the paper, she was faced with a small brown velvet box. Opening it, she caught her breath. It was a dainty silver necklace with a charm dangling from it.

The charm looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn't quite place it.

“But it's... it's actually really pretty,” she breathed, unable to say anything more.

“Let's have a look then, love,” said Monty from outside.

“Hang on a minute. Let me come outside, and you can help me put it on.”

Walking out of the back door, December carefully walked across the green lawn in her old comfy slippers. She soon reached the kitchen window where Monty stood, leaning on his garden fork. He wore an old pair of dark blue overalls and green wellies, the ones he always wore whenever he tended to the garden.

He carefully placed the fork on the ground and turned to the girl who had become more like a niece to him than the niece of his employer.

“Let me have a look,” he said as she held up the jewellery for his inspection.

His reaction wasn't quite what December expected though. He gasped and almost dropped it.

“Oh! Don't drop it into the rose bush! What is it?” she asked, with brows furrowed over her large pretty round blue eyes, framed by her wavy red hair.

“I don't think this is from your aunt December. This... this belonged to your mother.”

“Don't be silly, Monty. How could you possibly know that?” she asked with a slightly nervous chuckle as she turned and held her hair up so he could close the clasp around her pearly white neck.

“I think perhaps we ought to sit down,” he said as she let her hair drop to her shoulders, while he gently led her to the summer house in the centre of the lawn.

“Why on earth do I need to sit down?” she asked, confused, looking down at the pretty necklace which she carefully rolled between her fingers.

“December, I know you only think I've worked for this family since you were a toddler, but I've actually worked here since before you were born.”

“Why would you lie about something like that?”

“Because your aunt didn't want you to know that I knew your mother. I'm sorry for keeping it from you, but I didn't want to explain until you were older.”

“But why on earth would you and my aunt keep it from me?”

“Actually, I've kept it from you because it was your mother's wishes. It's your mother that didn't want you to know the truth until you were ready and it appears you are now. Ready, that is.”

“Monty, you're confusing me,” answered December. As far as she knew, her mother had been nothing more than a money-grabber who had married her father for his fortune, but when he died and left nothing in the will for her, she had done a runner, leaving her young daughter behind in the hands of her late husband's pretentious sister. December was just three years old.

“There's much more to your mother than you know, my dear,” he said.

Shaking her head, December stood up abruptly.

“No, my mother was nothing more than a money grabber. She didn't give a damn about me. If she did, she would never have left me,” she said matter-of-factly. December neglected to mention that she had, for years, secretly yearned for her mother to return and rescue her.

Monty shook his head.

“My dear, I'm afraid that's where you are wrong, very wrong. Your mother left you for your own good.”

“Oh please. I don't have to listen to this rubbish,” she said, storming of the summer house.

“Please, December. Just hear me out, please, for me.”

She stopped and turned, slowly walking back in and plonking herself down on the solid wrought iron bench in the centre of the outdoor room that was rarely used for anything.

He smiled, he knew that she would listen to him when he put it like that.

“This necklace is your mother's. I don't know how it got here, and I don't know what made Amelia think it was from Penelope, but it's not. It's from your mother. She made me keep her secret... until the moment you received this very necklace. She told me that once you were in possession of it, I was to tell you the truth.”

Clearly, December was intrigued, her attempts to hide it failed. Monty managed to prevent a chuckle from escaping his lips.

“Your mother, Moira, was what we could call a traveller. She never stayed for too long in one place, but when she met your father, he convinced her to stay. He promised to take care of her... not in the financial sense of the word because she wasn't remotely interested in that kind of thing - contrary to what your aunt thinks. Moira craved love, and she had that with your father, and she certainly had it with you. I have never seen a mother, so in love with her child than she was with you. It was a humbling thing to see. She doted on you.”

“If that's the case, then why did she leave me?” sobbed December, all attempts at remaining dry-eyed failing completely.

“It was the only way she could protect you... at least until you became a young lady, which you are now. You're fifteen. Moira was - is – special, my dear. She has certain... qualities that sometimes make her a target to some very evil people.”

“Okay, now you just sound weird. What are you talking about?”

“Moira is a witch, December.”

There, he'd said it. It hadn't been that hard, he thought.

“A witch? You're telling me that my mother ran out on me when I was a baby because she was a witch? Monty, have you been drinking?”

CHAPTER FIVE

When Rose and Lilly were confident the vampire had taken complete leave of his victim and disappeared out of the forest, they approached the mutilated corpse. The stench of the dead filled Lilly's nose, and she tried hard not to breathe in too deeply.

Although the man's body was covered in vicious claw marks and his neck was punctured beyond recognition, his pale face had been entirely spared. One side of his head was covered in blood, and his hair was messed up and matted, whereas the other side, his soft brown curls hung perfectly to frame his handsome middle-aged face. His lifeless, light brown eyes were open, staring up into the night sky while his full lips remained slightly ajar as if he was still in shock from such a cruel and vicious attack. Although he wore no clothes, much of his bare body was covered in remnants of now dried blood, dry leaves stuck to him as if he had been rolled in the dirt.

Lilly shuddered. She had never seen anyone in such a horrendous state before. She had witnessed Vivian's death, but none so gruesome as this.

'Dear God...'

'Do you know him, Rose?' Lilly questioned, mind to mind.

She shook her head. 'No, but I do know the murderer. We need to get out of here and get help. He needs to be stopped before he kills and feeds again.'

Lilly turned back to look upon the poor man, wishing there had been something they could have done. But they were too late. He was already so close to his death bed when they'd first sensed the proximity of danger.

Unable to do anything with the body, Lilly and Rose silently wished him well on his journey to the afterlife before they turned and began to run as fast as they could towards Rose's house. Once there, they transformed immediately and quickly back into human form.

Lilly had learned to always keep some spare clothes in various places, so she never got caught short. It had happened when her first transformation had begun. Luckily, Rose had taught her well.

It wasn't until Lilly was once again a young woman that she finally reacted to what she had witnessed. She barely made it to the bathroom before emptying the contents of her stomach into the toilet.

“Oh, goodness. My dear, are you all right? It's not something one ever wants to witness. It was brutal. Absolutely brutal. That poor bear, man.”

Rose stood behind Lilly and carefully put her hair into a ponytail, then gently patted her on the back, handing her a towel when she could heave no more.

“Let me make you some tea.”

“No Rose... you go ahead and sort out any phone calls you need to make. I'm okay. Honestly, I am. I'll get cleaned up, and then I'll make the tea.”

Thirty minutes later, the house was full of people. They all stood drinking tea in the kitchen.

Lilly's Aunt Meredith and her husband John and their son Cormac; her Uncle Wyatt and his wife Sonya; and the people that lived in the same house as Lilly, Sammy Morton, Tabitha (Rose's grand-daughter) and her werewolf boyfriend, Zoltan.

When they had all greeted each other warmly, Rose began to tell them about the horrendous attack she and Lilly had witnessed in the forest. Gasps of horror could be heard all around, accompanied by expressions of sadness and fear.

“What should we do?” asked Sonya as she absent-mindedly pushed her long flowing white hair behind her ears.

“There is only one thing we can do. We must go and inform the Elders. They will know how to handle the situation,” answered John.

“There is something else that I haven't told you yet,” whispered Rose, “I know who the attacker is.”

More gasps.

“You mean to say that this monster lives among us here in Powell River? How could we have not known about him? I thought we knew about all the non-humans that live here?” questioned Wyatt, as he took his wife's hand in his and squeezed it gently. “Who is he Rose?”

Sitting down, she turned to her family and quietly said, “It was Frank Jensen.”

“Good God... Rose. Frank? Are you sure? How is it possible? Frank is one of the gentlest people I know. I don't believe it. I can't believe it,” whispered Meredith.

“One thing's for sure. He can't have been a vampire long. He has lived here his entire life. We would have known about this. The Elders would have known about this,” said John.

“Which means only one thing...,” Sammy leapt in, “there is a vampire among us who is creating more of his kind.”

“Or her kind,” Lilly added.

Zoltan visibly growled at the conversation, his hands curled angrily,

“We must take him out.”

“Oh babe, don't be so dramatic. We don't know anything about the situation yet, we can't just go killing people. How do we know that the victim was a victim at all? He could have been the one that started the attack. Rose, did you recognise the body? You said he was a changeling. Had you seen him before? Perhaps he was the one we needed to fear. Frank may have done us a favour. We can't rule that out either,” replied Tabitha level-headedly.