A Werewolf Christmas by C.M. Stunich

Author:C.M. Stunich [Stunich, C.M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: C.M. Stunich
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

By the time we sat down for dinner, I was feeling confident again. It seemed that everyone had forgotten about the bracelet incident and things were going quite well. Thanks to the magic in that old silk hat, of course (yes, that's a Frosty reference again).

And then I noticed that my fingers looked a bit strange. This first sighting occurred during a long and drawn-out speech by Mr. Wakeham about the beauty of the holiday … and the terrible job the city snowplows were doing in the neighborhood.

I barely heard a thing he said.

I was too distracted by the covert shifting my digits had just undergone. They were kind of … stubby. I tucked them under the red tablecloth and tried not to freak out. When did this happen? I wondered as I stared hard at my hands and tried to catch them in the act. Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately depending on how you looked at it), it was like watching plants grow. I mean, they obviously did it, but it wasn't something that could be seen by the naked eye. Somehow, during the last hour, my fingers had shifted without my knowledge or consent. I hadn't felt a thing.

I tapped Josiah's knee under the table and tried to get his attention. At first, I think he thought I was flirting with him because he just wrapped his hand around my fingers and squeezed gently, eyes drooping seductively as he winked at me and tried to listen to his dad's speech. It wasn't until the claws sprouted, rapidly and sporadically on two of my fingers, that he noticed something was wrong.

Josiah jumped in surprise and slammed his knees into the bottom of the table. Glassware clinked precariously and in less than a second, all eyes were on him.

Josiah cleared his throat.

“I, uh, sorry. Just getting hungry,” he said. Ted narrowed his eyes on his son, but at least the distraction got him off the topic of snowplows and onto the prayer. I had no idea what religion the Wakeham family was. The baby Jesus on Josiah's sweater suggested some sect of Christianity, but the blessing was like nothing I'd ever heard, focused more on the changing seasons than it was on any kind of theological being.

That was great and all, but couldn't it have lasted all night long? Did we really have to eat? I mean, I swear, I nearly had a heart attack as I watched the family pass a plate of sliced ham over to me. How was I supposed to grab the dishes with my ever changing hands? When Aunt Lizzie turned to me, I gave her my best closemouthed smile.

“I think those blisters have really gotten the best of me.” I turned to Josiah and gave him a look of sheer desperation. “Would you mind passing the plates for me?” He didn't hesitate, not one bit, just reached out and grabbed the ham, dishing me a massive portion that I was dying to dig into. I was ravenous.

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