The morphing spell was nasty but a necessary step to be to tap into my heritage during the full moon. Contrary to popular belief, the process wasn’t automatic; only a magical trigger could awaken that part of a witch’s bloodline – provided the werewolf cells existed in the body.
That protected the general population a bit but a prepped werewolf on a full moon was a deadly encounter.
I yearned to go for a quick run in the woods behind my house, but the blood in the vial would coagulate and I’d have to start the spell over. Instead of indulging my animal instincts, I took a deep breath and willed myself back to human form. The spell didn’t test me on the way back; in a split harmless second, I was back on my feet, fully dressed – another common misconception.
After clearing my throat, I hummed a series of prayers to the moon in the language of my people. In a mortar, I dropped pinches of an array of herbs and crushed them together. I dumped the content of the vial on the resulting powder and mixed it thoroughly. Three scoops and a few hums later, I had easy-to-carry pills that, despite their inoffensive look, were my best weapons; chasing one down with spring water at the beginning of my round would sharpen my senses and decouple my strength. Combined with the influence of the moon, it would also allow me to morph at will, painlessly.
The rest of the spells I had to complete tonight were pretty straight forward: illusions, camouflage, traps and other small stuff. I could have bought them all but adding a drop of my blood to the mix would keep anyone but another werewolf to turn my arsenal against me. Given that my only back-up would be Jordan, I’d rather take this stupid precaution.
Spelling jolted my system into high gear and, should I have not crossed everything of my To Do, I would never have noticed the rising sun.
I freed Miss Kitty. She sniffed around, rediscovering the scents of the house under the thick perfumes of the herbs and incense I burned through the night. I brewed some chamomile to calm myself down and sipped it with Miss Kitty purring on my lap. She accompanied me to bed.
I got up around diner time and ate like three body builders. Spelling caused that side-effect too. I munched on my last bite of BLT when the doorbell rang. My spells, handcuffs and food stash for the night were neatly stacked in my backpack which I grabbed before opening the door.
Jordan stood on my front porch and my jaw dropped when I took in his looks; he traded his usual brightly colored tailored suits for a comfortable, skin tight, all black ensemble.
“What’s the catch?” There was no way he had finally done something right out of the goodness of his heart.