Page 4 of Eclipsed Legacy

“Hi, this is Deloris McDougle from North High School. I’m trying to reach the emergency contact for Michael Ward.”

I bolt upright. She’s got my attention. “Yes, this is his sister, Tala. Is he okay?”

“I’m afraid there has been an incident,” she says. “Michael was involved in a fight and is suspended for the next week. Since we cannot get a hold of a parent or guardian, we need you to pick him up.”

My heart rate increases as my anxiety heightens. “I’ll be right there. Thank you.” Deloris gives some professional reply, but I am no longer listening. After ending the call, I quickly pull my hair into a ponytail and grab my keys. In fewer than two minutes, I am out the door. What the hell? Michael has never been the fighting type. Sure, he’s prone to bicker with Mom, but this is something else entirely. It is so out of character that I have to wonder…

Grandma had said that a few months before Michael’s first turn, we’d be able to smell the wolf on him. With him being fourteen, we were starting to think he would be normal like Mom. This could be it, though. Maybe he’s about to go full wolf and is spazzing out like I did.

I press down harder on the gas.

Mom swore that since both of our dads were human, it was extremely unlikely that both of us would be werewolves, especially since her dad had been human, too. Then again, she had sworn I was human and that even if I were a wolf, I wouldn’t turn until I was at least thirteen. We all know how wrong she was about that.

I turn sharply into the school parking lot, realizing I had better slow the hell down unless I want to be taken away in cuffs. I pull into the closest parking spot and power walk through the front door. As I enter the front office, Michael is sitting in a chair across from the front desk with his head down. He looks up as I approach. I feel my eyes go wide. A shiner is already forming on his right eye, and he has a large bruise on the left side of his face. If the dried blood around his nostrils wasn’t an indication that his nose had been bleeding, the smell of the blood would’ve given it away.

I force myself to keep a pleasant look on my face as I say too quickly to the woman at the front desk, “Hi, I’m Tala Ward. I was asked to pick up my brother, Michael. He was in a fight. Do I need to sign something?”

The woman gives a forced smile. “Not exactly. You may pick him up, but we will still need a parent or guardian to come in and sign some paperwork.”

I nod. “Okay. Thank you…What exactly happened?”

The woman drops the faux smile. “I don’t know, hon. You’d have to ask the vice principal, but he’s speaking with another young man right now.”

Again, I nod before waving Michael along. I don’t want to stay and wait for the other kid. It’s not worth the risk of Michael wolfing out. As we get into the car, we’re both silent. I take a few minutes to try to smell him without his noticing. Nothing, I smell nothing. Just Michael.

“So, what happened?” I finally ask when we are down the road a ways.

Michael shrugs.

I glance at him quickly with my brows raised before turning my attention back to the road. “You know you can tell me.”

Silence.

“Nothing? If you don’t speak up, I’m just going to assume the worst. I mean, seriously? A fight, Michael? You know better! You know how badly I messed things up for myself. Why on earth would you pick a fight with some kid?”

“I didn’t pick a fight!” he yells. Finally, a response. “I bumped into some new guy in the hall. It pis-made him angry, and he decked me. He’s some gym rat. A junior. He barely came out with a scratch.”

Damn. So, it’s not a wolf thing. The kid got whooped by some buff upperclassman. I guess Mom was right. Aside from feeling slightly relieved and guilty, I’m a bit pissed myself. Who goes around beating up freshmen who bump into them? It’s not like I can technically do anything. Mom’s got to go up to the school, anyway. I decide to tell her about it later and hope she investigates further.

The rest of the ride to Mom’s is silent. When I pull up, I ask Michael if he has his key. He nods without looking at me and gets out. Once he’s inside and the door shut behind him, I head back to my apartment for some much-needed shut eye. By the time I lie down, I’ve only got another two hours before I need to get up. This time, I silence my phone. If there is another minor crisis, someone else can fly to the rescue. I put on my sleep mask, put in my AirPods, and drown out the world with some Ed Sheeran, my guilty pleasure. Before I know it, I have drifted off.

Chapter 2

By the time my alarm goes off, it’s a little over an hour before dusk. With a stretch, I quickly get out of bed and follow my normal “morning” routine. Within an hour, I am out the door and on my way to Grandma’s with her herbs. As I pull into the driveway, I see Mel’s silver Toyota. Night is just beginning to fall, but the trees around Grandma’s house make it seem darker than it actually is. I jog up the stairs and walk in; the old screen door crashes shut behind me, notifying the house of my arrival.

“Tala?” I hear Mel call out. I make my way around the corner to see Mel, who mouths “Thank you” at me. I offer her a faux scared smile before continuing further into the house, until I am in the dining room. Packets of herbs cover the long table which seats ten, or thirteen if Grandma gets her way. Some homemade candles fill a box on the floor. Empty organizers that resemble tackle boxes are stacked high on the far wall.

Grandma beams when she sees me. “Tala!” she exclaims before rushing over to hug me, as if she didn’t just see me yesterday. Grandma gives me a tight squeeze before letting me go. Without skipping a beat, she turns toward the kitchen. “Ray!” she screeches. “Have you finished with my sage yet?”

“Almost,” I hear Ray call. Grandma shakes her head at me and rolls her eyes. Okay, so maybe Mel did have a point at the diner. Grandma looks like me, or I look like her. High cheekbones. Full lips. Everything matches down to the piercing dark eyes that give us both resting bitch-face. She doesn’t come across like the grandma that bakes cookies, more like the grandma that mixes you a Bloody Mary then cusses you for making bad decisions. The biggest differences between us are her wrinkles and darker skin. While my skin is more olive toned, Grandma’s is light brown.

About thirty seconds later, Ray strolls in carrying a box full of bundled sage. Grandma grows the sage herself, so we, I mean, she, has to dry it and wrap it with cords herself. Ray smiles. “Here you go, Grandma. I just finished making the last bundle.” He sets the box on one of the dining chairs. “You’ve got a little over four dozen,” he says wiping the sweat from his brow. At six-three, Ray is a full foot taller than me. Ray’s mother, my Uncle Carl’s wife Angie, is black, so Ray is slightly darker than Grandma. He’s thin and has a handsome square jawline that he keeps clean-shaven. I’ve heard several women fawn over him, but he’s usually oblivious. If he wasn’t so shy, he’d probably be married with thirty kids.

Grandma gives a long, exasperated sigh. “Shit…that’s not nearly enough. I’ll need at least six dozen more. Let’s see…” Grandma hurries about, counting this and that, seeming to take inventory of her supplies.

Mel, Ray, and I share a look. “Grandma?” I call.

She doesn’t look up. “Yes?” I walk over to her and place a hand on hers, ceasing her counting. She looks up at me, then sighs again.