Read Claire De Lune Online

Authors: Christine Johnson

Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Fantasy & Magic, #Legends; Myths; Fables, #General, #Love & Romance

Claire De Lune (17 page)

“And what about Doug?” Lisbeth asked, her voice heavy with meaning.

Claire shrugged. She looked over at Lisbeth, wondering what she’d been doing on Fourth Street. “So, what did you do while I was gone? Anything fun?” she asked.

“Nah,” said Lisbeth. “I went home and read for a while. That’s about it.”

“Oh.” Claire turned to stare out the window. Everything was off tonight. Lisbeth was lying to her. Claire had lied to pretty much everybody. And Matthew—how could she date someone who was the center of attention when she was always trying to hide?

She slumped down in the seat and wondered if maybe her mother was right, even though her reasons were wrong.
The thought made her stomach as heavy as a bowling ball, but maybe it really was impossible for her and Matthew to be together. What if she just ended up making him miserable?

Then again, maybe she should let him make his own decisions about how he wanted to spend his time. He was the one who suggested they leave, just the two of them. It was possible that she was just being oversensitive. Overreacting.

Claire leaned against the glass and sighed. Things would be a lot simpler if she didn’t like him so much. Or if she were just a normal human, like everyone else.

But no,
I
get to be a werewolf. Just freaking great.

Chapter Twelve

T
HE
NEXT FEW
days dragged on forever. All Claire could think about was that every passing hour brought her closer to Tuesday night’s full moon.

By the time the sun sank behind the trees on Monday, Claire was pacing her room, wondering why Matthew hadn’t called back, worrying about what the next night would be like. She was so tense that her teeth ached. She had to get into the
woods. Maybe if she could run for a while, could practice a little—maybe then she’d feel better about everything.

When everyone else had gone to bed, Claire crept out of the house. Sneaking out wasn’t nearly as scary as it had been before. She knew where every creaky stair was, and just how far she could open the back door before it squeaked. In no time, Claire was in the little clearing she’d started to think of as hers—not nearly as big as where the pack met, but still. It was big enough to practice in. She wished she’d called Zahlia. It would have been nice to have someone to hang out with while she practiced. The scent of the pine needles tickled her nose when she bent to pull off her shoes. It smelled good. Comfortable.

When her socks were draped over a low branch, Claire stretched up and rolled her head from side to side. Her feet had changed so much that when she was in her wolf-form, her shoes didn’t fit. Besides, she could run faster without them—it would be easier to get away if she heard something coming.

And, anyway, we’re the scariest things out here. That’s one good thing about being a werewolf, I guess. You don’t have to be afraid of so much stuff anymore.

Claire thought about Matthew’s dad. The stuff she was frightened of now was a hell of a lot more terrifying, actually. She shook her head to clear it and forced herself to focus.

The change came faster this time. Claire huddled on the
ground for a minute, waiting for the adrenaline rush of transforming to pass. Even though she could transform faster, she still looked pretty much the same as she had that first night—mostly human. She swallowed hard, thinking about the next night’s gathering. How much different would she look in twenty-four hours?

When her pulse had finally slowed after the stress of the change, Claire lifted her nose and sniffed. The forest smelled so much better when she was in her wolf-form. More complicated. The edginess she’d felt all afternoon still scratched in her chest, and Claire streaked off into the woods, determined to run it out.

After three sprints to the gathering clearing and back, her ribs were heaving. She lay on the ground underneath one of the pine trees and forced herself to take deep breaths. She felt great—exhausted, but great.

Claire closed her eyes and thought of Matthew.

“No, man, it’s too late. I’ll call her tomorrow. I don’t want her to think I’m a totally inconsiderate ass.”

The voice made her jump. Shaking herself, she realized she must have been listening to him, the same way she’d done with Lisbeth. Claire closed her eyes and concentrated on his voice.

“Yeah, see, there’s just no way I’m telling you that.”

There was a pause.

“Because I like her. A lot. I’ve never met anyone like her
before, and I’m not going to screw things up by talking to
you
about
that
.” Matthew sounded exasperated.

Claire rolled onto her feet and danced around in a little circle. He was talking about her. He had to be. But she couldn’t hear him anymore. Crap. She’d dropped her concentration.

She sat back down and tried to hear him again, forcing herself to stay focused on his warm, rich voice. But it was no good. Either he’d quit talking or she needed more practice.

Claire sighed and forced herself back into her human form. She might as well quit while she was ahead, anyway. Matthew’s words left a little warm spot in her belly that glowed all the way home.

When dark fell on Tuesday, Claire was surprised to find that she was more relieved than anything. Whatever was going to happen, at least she could quit feeling so anxious about it.

Lisbeth knocked on her door.

“Yeah?”

Her blond head poked around the door. She was dressed for yoga, but Claire noticed she was wearing turquoise earrings, and the scent of lavender body lotion wafted into the room.

“I’m going to class. I’ll be back by ten, okay?”

Claire looked surprised. “They’re having yoga at night?”

“It’s just for tonight. A special thing, kind of.”

“Oh, well, have fun, then.”

Lisbeth closed the door behind her. The scent of some emotion lingered in the room, but there was still so much lavender body lotion smell that Claire couldn’t tell what Lisbeth had been feeling.

She looked at the empty room and sighed. Her mother had shut herself in the darkroom after dinner, and there was nothing to do but wait. Reality shows and commercials blared from the television behind her, but Claire stared at the shadows on the lawn, willing them to lengthen. She could feel the fur itching underneath her skin.

A couple of hours after Lisbeth bounced up the stairs to announce that she was home and going to bed, Claire heard her mother’s soft knock. They crept down the stairs and out the back door in silence. When they were safely hidden in the deep woods, Claire’s mother turned to her.

“Claire, this is your second moon. You know that the change will be more complete for you this time, yes?”

She nodded. “How much different will it be?” she whispered.

Her mother shrugged. “It is unique for each of us. At your next moon you will change fully, but this time—there is no way to know for sure.” She stared into the woods, listening. “Are you ready?”

Claire nodded nervously and followed her mother farther into the trees. Eventually, the firelight flickered in the distance—they were close. Claire could see Beatrice, Victoria,
Judith, and Katherine already in the clearing.

When she and her mother broke through the circle of trees, Victoria looked up at them, her face painted with fear. She threw her arms around Claire’s mother.

“Marie, I greet you.” Victoria’s voice shook. She hugged Claire and greeted her.

“It was good to see you at the coffee shop—you handled yourself perfectly, you know.”

“Oh—um, thanks. It was good to see you, too.”

Judith and Katherine skimmed their eyes over Claire the same way they had last time. It was like she was half-transparent to them. She fought an urge to roll her eyes.

Claire scanned the trees for any sign of Zahlia. The shadows were empty and still.

She turned to Beatrice. Anxiety tightened the wrinkles around the old woman’s eyes.

Once they had greeted each other, Victoria sniffed at the air. “Where is Zahlia? She can’t be late—not tonight of all nights!”

Beatrice eased herself off the log where she had been sitting and stood by the fire.

“We’ll have to start without her, I’m afraid.”

Claire arranged herself around the edge of the fire with the others. The idea of transforming in front of everyone sent needles of panic shooting through Claire’s limbs, even though she’d done it once before
.
She wished Zahlia were there—
she’d feel a lot more comfortable. Her concern immediately turned to guilt. It didn’t seem right to be worrying about how she looked. Victoria could lose her baby any second.

Beatrice raised her wrinkled hands and took a breath. Before she could begin the chant, an enormous black wolf streaked into the forest, her lips flecked with white foam and her pelt marred with twigs and burrs. Zahlia had arrived.

Claire watched as Zahlia forced herself back into her human skin. She stayed on all fours on the forest floor, her ribs heaving and her black hair dripping sweat. Without bothering to greet any of them formally, she lifted her head and looked at Beatrice. “We are not alone in the forest. There is a
seule
—I smelled her on my way here, and when I approached, she ran. She headed east, toward town.” Zahlia rose to her feet, still panting, her eyes wild.

Claire felt her mother shift into a tense posture. Victoria looked torn, her lip caught between her teeth and her hands curled into fists at her sides. Only Beatrice remained calm.

“What does it mean, that she’s here?” Claire asked tentatively.

“A wolf without a pack is rare but not unheard of.” Her mother’s voice was flat. “Often they are frightened, or dangerous. Sometimes both.”

“Of course,” Zahlia said, her voice still breathless. “But this time, it may be more than that. She could be the one who is killing humans in town. We must catch her—question her.
We cannot let this one go silently.”

“And we would hunt her to what end?” asked Judith, her hands on her hips. “Force her to join us? Demand she leave? Kill her?”

“I don’t think Zahlia was going to suggest tearing off into the woods without a plan.” Katherine pursed her lips. “But this doesn’t seem like the best time for strategizing.”

Beatrice stared into the fire for a moment, her hands raised, then shut her milky eyes.

“This ceremony cannot be delayed. We determine the fate of Victoria’s child, and then we will track the stranger.”

The scent of disappointment—bitter, almost charred—wafted off Zahlia as she slunk into place.

“Heya, Claire,” she muttered. “Everything okay?”

Claire nodded and her mother shot Zahlia a poison-dart look. Beatrice began to chant. Across the circle, Victoria sat with her arms wrapped around her midsection, staring hard into the fire. Her lips were pinched and tears sparkled in the corners of her eyes.

Without warning, Beatrice began a new chant. The others swayed slightly with the trancelike rhythm of the words, and the fire in the center of their circle began to change.

The flames no longer flickered at random. Instead, they began a slow, steady swirl, parting to reveal the logs underneath, and then drawing back together, each time rising higher and higher. As Beatrice’s chanting reached a frantic peak the
fire rose high enough to scorch the branches of the trees. Across the clearing, Claire saw her mother, shimmering as her form began to alter.

Claire hurried to undress, stumbling when she tried to yank off her sweatpants too fast.
Please don’t let anyone have noticed that.
She should have been practicing the clothes part, too. Her embarrassment washed away when she began to change.

The transformation took Claire’s breath away. She felt her too-tight skin melt away faster and more completely than it ever had. Fur erupted all over her body, and her hands and feet took on a cramped, misshapen look. Her arms and legs were caught somewhere between human and animal, and with a start, Claire realized that the sudden heaviness at her lower back was a thick tail.

No one paid any attention to the fact that she was incomplete—they were all staring at Victoria. The hazel wolf sat in front of the fire with her eyes closed.

No one breathed.

No one moved.

Oh!
Victoria sucked in a sharp breath and bared her teeth. Sorrow swooped down on the group like a black-winged bird.

Oh, no—it’s not—I mean, I’m okay! There’s no pain! Oh, it’s a
girl. Victoria let out a gasp. Her tongue lolled out of her mouth and she began to pant.
Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you
. She rocked back and forth again and again in relief.

Beatrice threw back her gray-muzzled head and
yipped
in delight. Claire’s mother and Zahlia immediately followed suit, with Judith and Katherine coming in a half second later. The five wolves surrounded Victoria, butting up against her and nudging her flank with their snouts. Silky fur covered every inch of their skin and their sharp teeth fit neatly into their jaws. None of their paws were tipped with pink-painted human fingernails. But Claire’s were.

She hung back, embarrassed by her own half-changed appearance and the sympathetic tears that trickled down her cheeks.

Oh, Goddess, I look hideous.
She felt the thick rope of muscle in her tail twitch as it curved underneath her body in shame. Claire hung her head, keening a strange, canine whine. A whiff of frustration, tangy and sharp, made her lift her eyes back to the group.

Claire’s mother looked at her and dropped her ears the tiniest bit.

Do not be rude,
chérie
. Come and congratulate Victoria.

Oh, lay off her, Marie.
Zahlia huffed and shook her head.
Like any of us had to deal with this much on our second moon. Give her a minute.

You have no right to tell me what to expect of my daughter!
Claire’s mother’s ears were laid flat back against her skull.

Cut it out, you two—this is no time to argue.
Victoria looked over at Claire.
Come celebrate! Good Goddess, you look wonderful. You should have seen me at my second moon—my fur
was so patchy, it looked like I had mange! Your fur’s all the way in—that’s so lucky! I’m so lucky.
She rolled over onto her back and wriggled against the dusty ground. She looked maniacally happy.
Can you believe it? I’m having a
baby
!

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