Claire de Lune

by Christine Johnson

  “Really?” she asked.

  He leaned in. “Of course. What I really want is to spend time with you. Just you. And since we don’t have a lot of opportunities to do that, maybe we should take advantage of what we’ve got, you know?”

  Claire nodded. Half of her was jumping up and down with excitement, but the other half was worried. “Won’t it look weird if we leave?”

  “Nah,” he murmured. “Most of them are three drinks in already. They won’t notice if the couch is on fire.”

  He was right—Claire hadn’t really thought about that.

  “So, how come you’re not drinking?” The question popped out before she stopped to think about how it sounded. She bit the tip of her tongue and winced.

  Matthew shrugged. “Too risky. I get caught drinking, I’m off the soccer team. And that means no scholarships, no college team. I’d be stuck going to community college and living with my parents. And that is definitely not part of my plan.”

  He smiled at her.

  “Come on,” he said, grabbing her free hand. “Let’s get out of here.”

  They headed down the hall and through the living room. Claire was so tense that the back of her neck was practically an armored plate. She could feel everyone sizing her up, judging her. Matthew edged them toward the front door without being obvious about it.

  Once the front hall was empty, the two of them slipped out the front door into the almost-dark, and Claire was pretty sure no one had seen them.

  The night was quiet after the shouting and music of the party. They were alone. Really alone.

  “Thanks for the rescue. So, um, where are we going?” she asked as they walked toward Matthew’s car.

  “Wherever you want,” Matthew answered, pulling her in close.

  “What about that coffee shop over on Fourth Street? The one next to the bookstore? Emily and I hang out there a lot.” As soon as she said it, Claire remembered that the last time she’d been there, she’d run into Victoria. Crap. What if she was there again?

  Matthew smiled at her. “That sounds great.”

  There were very few cars out—people really were staying home after dark these days. When they got to Fourth Street, Claire could see that the little row of businesses were all dark, the coffee shop included. Matthew slowed down as they passed it. A bright-pink piece of paper had been taped to the inside of the shop’s glass door.

  “‘Temporary New Hours,’” Claire read, “‘ten a.m. to six p.m.’”

  “You can see that from here?” Matthew’s voice was incredulous. “I must need my eyes checked.”

  Oops. Damn.

  “It’s closer to my side of the car,” Claire offered. “I didn’t think about them being closed.”

  There was a flutter of movement at the far end of the row of businesses. Claire blinked at it as Matthew’s car drew closer. It was a person.

  Oh, God. It wasn’t just a person. It was Lisbeth. She was walking down the sidewalk. Claire couldn’t figure out why she would be here when everything was closed. Lisbeth turned to look at Matthew’s approaching car.

  Claire slid down in the seat so fast that her knees banged against the dashboard.

  “Claire?” Matthew sounded shocked, and the almost-bitter smell of worry filled the car.

  “It’s Lisbeth!” Claire hissed. “Just—keep driving and tell me when you can’t see her anymore, okay?”

  “Oh, crap.” Matthew sped up a little, and Claire stayed hunched down into the seat. Her legs had started to ache from being crunched into such a weird position. In her back pocket, Claire’s cell phone started to ring. She managed to wriggle it out at the same time that Matthew turned a corner. Lisbeth’s number was lit up on the caller ID.

  “Nooooo,” Claire moaned.

  “Don’t answer it,” Matthew suggested.

  “She’ll be furious,” Claire said. But if she answered in the quiet car, Lisbeth would know that she wasn’t at the party. She was screwed.

  “Wait fifteen minutes and then text her.” Matthew suggested. “Tell her you couldn’t hear the phone because it was so loud—that it’s too loud to talk.”

  Claire licked her lips and nodded. Lisbeth would be mad, but she’d probably buy that. The phone in her hand beeped as the call went to voicemail, making her decision for her.

  “You can scoot up now,” Matthew said. “We’re far enough away.”

  Claire slid back up in the seat. “Do you think she saw me?”

  Matthew shook his head. “I think probably she saw me and got suspicious, you know?”

  Claire leaned her head back against the seat. “I’m so sorry, Matthew. If my mom weren’t being so stupid about all of this … ugh. I’m just sorry that I’m making you sneak around, I guess.”

  Matthew shrugged. “Look, I’d rather be honest about all of this, too, but my dad has screwed up enough stuff in my life that I totally understand. And who knows? Maybe she’ll change her mind once this werewolf stuff calms down.”

  “I seriously doubt that. My mother doesn’t change her mind.”

  “Well, either way.” Matthew stopped at a red light. He reached over and touched her face, his hand tracing the shape of her jaw. “It’s worth it, either way.”

  They drove around for a while, marveling at the fact that everything really was closed at night. Matthew didn’t seem to be nervous about being out after dark, which surprised Claire.

  “Aren’t you worried about the werewolf ?” she asked.

  “Well, we are in a car,” he pointed out. “So we’d be faster than the werewolf. But mostly, I just think that the odds of being in exactly the wrong place at exactly the wrong time—they’re pretty small. I wouldn’t go for a hike right now, but driving around town? Nope. Not nervous about that. And anyway, you’re here, which means you must not be terrified either, right?”

  A little shock zinged through Claire. She hadn’t really considered that he would turn the question back around on her. “Um, no, I’m not. For the same reasons you just said, really. Oh, crap!” She looked at the clock. “I’d better text Lisbeth.”

  Lisbeth was pissed, but she seemed to believe that Claire was still at Doug’s. Claire felt bad about lying to her, but, she reasoned, she wouldn’t be doing it if her mother would listen to reason. As it was, she didn’t have any other choice.

  Since nothing was open, they ended up driving aimlessly around town, talking about everything and nothing at the same time. When they ended up back on Doug’s block, Claire looked at the clock. It was quarter till eleven. How had so much time gone by so fast? From the street, the music coming from inside was just a whisper of bass. Claire leaned back in the seat and sighed. She really, really didn’t want to go in there and face everyone, even if Matthew was with her.

  He leaned over and kissed her. Claire could feel him smiling.

  “Come on,” he said. “Let’s go see who’s still conscious in there.”

  “Okay,” she whispered, still a little tingly from the feeling of his lips against hers.

  If Matthew was with her, it wouldn’t be that bad. And it was only fifteen minutes, right? The two of them walked across the front lawn and into the house. There were still small groups of people scattered though the family room, but their conversations were louder, and there were a couple of people passed out on the couches.

  Claire stayed near the windows, watching for Lisbeth’s car. The last thing she needed was Lisbeth coming up to the house—she’d be in twelve kinds of trouble for sure. When the car pulled up outside, Claire ran for the front hall.

  “I’ll call you later,” she said, as Matthew quickly kissed her good-bye.

  “Hey, Engle!” The slurred call came from somewhere in the living room. “Get your ass over here—we need a fourth for poker!”

  Matthew laughed and headed back into the party while Claire opened the door and darted across the dark lawn. She slid into Lisbeth’s car.

  “Now I believe you couldn’t hear the phone—if the music’s that
loud out here, it must have been deafening in there!” Lisbeth shook her head. “So, did you have fun?”

  Claire sighed. “I dunno. Sort of, I guess.” It was true. The time she’d spent with Matthew had been amazing, but the rest of the party stuff had been pretty torturous.

  “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

  THE 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 th
e 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.”