“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 !
Claire slunk over to Victoria on her awkward limbs as the others moved back to their places around the fire, still barking and keening in celebration. Her tail dragged on the ground, catching stray twigs as she walked. With her half-changed head, Claire butted Victoria’s shoulder as gently as she could.
Just think, Victoria nipped at Claire’s furred ear, in nine months, there will be eight of us!
Victoria’s words sent a shiver of unease through the group, distracting Claire. She turned to her mother, curious, but before she could form the question, her mother shook her sleek-furred head at Claire, ever so slightly.
Beatrice snapped her jaw shut and sat neatly in front of the fire. Victoria, go home and get some sleep. The rest of us will track the seule.
Why? I feel wonderful. I’ll go help with the tracking. Victoria stood, her tail wagging happily behind her.
Absolutely not. If this seule is dangerous enough to kill humans, then she will not hesitate to attack one of us if we try to stop her. We would be putting the life of your baby in unnecessary danger. I know you can track. But tonight you will not. I want you to ensure Claire gets home safely, and then I want you to go rest. The authority that rang in Beatrice’s command was unmistakable, and Victoria bowed her head, her tail curving underneath her body. Beatrice turned her milky eyes to Claire.
Do you know your way out of the forest?
The tilt of the old wolf’s head told Claire that this was not so much a question as a command. Claire’s half-changed nose scented the path she and her mother had taken through the woods earlier. She looked over at her mother and her stomach lurched at the idea of going home without her. What if something happened to her mother while they were hunting the seule? What if it attacked her mother? Or Zahlia? The idea of one of them getting hurt—or worse—made her sick.
“Can’t I go, too?” Her half-human voice sounded strange in the clearing. Behind her, Katherine let out an irritated snort.
Beatrice’s ear twitched. At the next moon, you would have been able to go with us. But half-changed you would hinder us far more than you would help us. I’m sorry, Claire.
Claire opened her mouth to protest, but Marie’s voice filled her head, stopping her. Our pack has survived without you for sixteen years, Claire. Tonight will be no different. Go home and wait for me.
“Okay,” Claire whispered.
Zahlia tilted her head to one side in a can’t-win-’em-all gesture. Then the five wolves turned and disappeared into the trees like smoke, their noses twitching in anticipation. Claire looked at Victoria. Victoria pressed her ears back until they were flat against her head. Fear flickered across her face as she scanned the trees. Just by looking at her, by smelling her tangy, damp scent on the breeze, Claire knew that Victoria was suddenly terrified to go through the woods—that her pregnancy made her feel vulnerable.
“I’ll be okay on my own if you’d rather just go home,” Claire said.
Victoria licked her lips. No—Beatrice told me to take you home. We have to listen to her, Claire. She’s our Alpha—her word is law. I’ll be okay. Having a violent seule around just makes me nervous. I hadn’t really thought about it that way, before my mother forbid me to go, but she’s right. I have to protect this baby.
“If you’re sure …” Claire hesitated. She knew Beatrice was supposed to be obeyed, but she hated to make Victoria stay in the woods any longer than she had to.
It’ll be fine. Really, as long as we’re not hunting her, she won’t want to bother us. We’ll be safe, I promise. Let’s go.
Before she could second-guess herself again, Claire grabbed her clothes in her half-changed mouth, turned, and scampered into the trees. Every time a twig crac
ked in the distance, Victoria’s head jerked up, away from the scent Claire and her mother had left along their path, and her ears swiveled back and forth, listening for any sign of the seule.
Victoria was so nervous that Claire started to get jumpy, too. What she needed was a distraction.
“So, it’s really great about the baby, huh?”
Victoria whined. It is. As long as I can keep her safe, it will be wonderful.
Claire grimaced. She’d been hoping for more of an I-can’t-wait-to-buy-baby-clothes reaction.
Sorry. I know I’m being twitchy.
“It’s okay. Hey—thanks for saying that I did okay at the coffee shop. I think Mom secretly believed that I actually jumped up and down and shouted about how glad I was to see another werewolf.”
Victoria let out an amused whuffling sort of noise. I’m sure Marie doesn’t mean to be so hard on you. She just doesn’t want to see you go through the pain of making mistakes, you know?
“Yeah. Maybe.” Or maybe not.
One day, you’ll understand. The beginning is hard for everyone.
Victoria picked up the pace, and Claire struggled to keep up with her. By the time Claire made it back to the edge of the forest, she was panting with exertion. It took her two tries to force herself back into her human skin.
Claire looked back at Victoria. “Be careful going home.”
Victoria cocked her head and flicked her ears, but since Claire was in her human form, she couldn’t understand what the golden-brown wolf was saying. With a wave, Claire slipped through the opening in the wall and pressed herself against the ivy-covered brick. Relief flooded through her—she’d made it home, at least. All that was left to do was slip back into the house and wait for her mother to join her.
Claire sat in the dark kitchen, watched the microwave clock count away the night, and wondered what the hell was going on in the woods. An hour passed, then two. Exhausted, Claire put her head down on the table and stared at the glowing green numbers with heavy eyes.
A warm hand shook her shoulder and Claire started awake, confused. “Wha—”
“Ssshh,” her mother warned her. “Don’t wake Lisbeth. We must get you into bed, chérie. It is nearly dawn.”
Claire glanced out the window at the graying sky. “Did you find her?” she whispered.
Marie shook her head, her lips pressed into a thin line. “No, the trail was unclear, and we split up to track her, but we came too close to town to search any further. We won’t know what happened until the town wakes.” She rubbed a hand across her eyes. “Go to sleep, Claire.” Her voice filled with weariness. “These things will still be here to deal with in the morning, and we will meet with the pack a few nights from now to discuss what should be done.”
Chapter Thirteen
THE MOONLIGHT GLEAMED against her pale skin as she ran naked though the woods, celebrating. She’d confused all of them—led them on a wild goose chase until one by one they dropped away. Stupid packs with their stupid rules and stupid loyalties. None of them knew what it really meant to be a wolf. None of them knew how to treat humans like the playthings they really were.
She hadn’t intended to kill anyone tonight, but she was still so high from the chase. And that moron had been so eager to see what the noise was outside. Holding that gun like it would help him. She barked gleefully, the sound bouncing off the trees around her. His finger hadn’t even twitched on the trigger.
Now that she knew they were all fooled, it was time to make the next move—time to lure the one she’d grown to hate most into the trap that she had set so perfectly. To make it work, she just needed that greedy little man, Dr. Engle, to get angry enough to take matters into his own hands. And when he’d caught her enemy, put the blame of so many deaths on her head … well. She’d never have to worry about that particular wolf again.
Claire lay in bed, watching the pink dawn creep across the sky. There was no way she could go back to sleep—not after everything that had happened. When Claire heard Lisbeth banging around in the kitchen, she slid out of bed.
Lisbeth stood in front of the stove, scrambling a pan of tofu and peppers. At the kitchen table, Marie sat in front of a plate of limp bacon, her hand wrapped around an enormous mug of coffee. She stared at the television set with bleary eyes.
“Morning, Claire!” Lisbeth chirped. “You’re up early. Want some juice? I put some ginger in it today—it gives it a little extra zip, I think.” Lisbeth held out a pitcher of revolting-looking green sludge. The smell of wheatgrass and spinach hit Claire like a slap. Man, she’s really perky this morning. …
Claire shook her head and stumbled over to the coffeepot. She poured herself a huge mug full and dumped two heaping spoonfuls of sugar into it. Once the first sip had burned its way down her throat, the voice of the news anchor penetrated Claire’s exhaustion.
“… police said that the latest murder, happening so far to the north, indicates that the werewolf may have relocated to the denser woods north of Highway 34. The male victim was found outdoors, with a firearm nearby. Citizens are reminded not to leave their homes after dark for any reason. Suspicious activity should be reported to the police, or the Protective Action Council, headed by Dr. Charles Engle. They can be reached by calling 555-0194. Now, let’s turn to Angie for a check of the weather—Angie?”
Claire turned to look at her mother. The coffee sloshed against the side of her mug. The seule. She really was the one killing people, and she was still in the woods. The pack hadn’t caught her, and she’d killed that poor man. Maybe if they’d had more help—if I’d been there—maybe they would have been able to find her. She set down her coffee mug too hard on the counter.
“I don’t mind if you want to drink that poison, Claire, but for God’s sake, don’t spill it everywhere, ’kay?” Lisbeth dug a fork into her tofu.
Marie met Claire’s eyes and mouthed, “Later.”
* * *
“Hello?”
“Hey, Claire.” Matthew’s voice was quieter than usual.
“What’s wrong?” Her mind flashed to the party. They hadn’t really talked much in the days since then—maybe she’d been right. Maybe he’d been disappointed that she wasn’t exactly the social butterfly type.
He sighed. “It’s my dad.”
At least it’s not me. Damn, what made me think that, anyway? I must be the most narcissistic person on the planet.
“What about him?”
“He’s freaking out. And I mean freaking. That guy who got killed last night—it just pushed him over the edge. He’s been ranting all morning about how the FHPA and the Protective Action Council were both supposed to be out patrolling, and it still happened. All of a sudden, he’s all action-hero about the situation. He keeps saying he’s the last line of defense, and he’s called in all of these other people for some big strategy meeting tomorrow. He’s making me crazy with his whole saving-the-world thing. It’s just about him getting into the stupid Lycanthropy Researchers International so that he can prove he’s worthy of his FHPA spot, anyway.”
Claire squeezed her eyes shut. If Matthew’s dad had decided to do something drastic, that put the whole pack in danger. She forced her shoulders to relax, focused on sounding normal.
“That’s really crappy. Do you want to go somewhere this afternoon? Get away from the insanity for a while?” Her mom and Lisbeth would be home. It would be hard to sneak out without them catching on, but she’d figure out a way.
Matthew laughed bitterly. “I’d like that more than anything in the world. But apparently, I’m picking up some tracking expert at the airport this afternoon. Dad’s orders.”
“Oh, Matthew, I’m so sorry.”
“Yeah, me too. I guess we’re both at our parents’ mercy these days, huh?”
“Yep. But I’m glad it’s just your dad you’re frustrated with.” The words tumbled out of Claire’s mouth before she could stop them.
“What do you mean? Who else would I be frustrated with?”
“Um—I just thought … We haven’t talked much since Friday, and …” She sighed. “I’m not exactly as popular as you are. I don’t really go to that many big parties—I thought maybe you were wishing that I was more like the rest of your friends. That I liked that sort of stuff more.”
Not that you even know how different I really am from them, but still. God, I wish I could tell him everything.
The silence on the other end of the phone made her squirm in her chair, and she struggled to keep her mouth shut.
“Claire.”
Matthew’s voice was very, very quiet, and she could feel the first tingle of tears behind her eyelids.
“I cannot believe you even thought that for a single second.”
“Well—” Her throat closed up before she could say anything else.
“Spending time with you is so much better than getting blind drunk with a bunch of people who only care about how many goals I can score, or what my clothes look like—I can’t even tell you how much better it is. You’re more interesting than anyone at that party by a long shot.”
“I just don’t want to be taking you away from your friends or anything.”
“You’re not. Believe me, you’re really not. No more worrying about this kind of stuff, okay?” His voice was gentle.
“Okay.” Claire struggled to keep her voice even. His voice was so sincere—there was no doubt he meant every word. She struggled not to sniff into the phone. “Good luck this afternoon.”
“Thanks, I’ll need it. I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”
“Yeah, okay.”
Claire hung up and flopped down onto the carpet. She’d gotten so used to the truth being the absolute wrong thing to say. But somehow with Matthew, it always seemed to be absolutely right.
I’d better not get too comfortable with that idea. She sighed and stood up. Sometimes it seemed like she’d never get all of this figured out.
* * *
As Claire and her mother made their way into the woods a few nights later, her mother laid a warning hand on Claire’s arm.
“You are allowed to come to the gathering this evening, but you must understand something. Until your transformation is complete, you will have no say in our proceedings. Beatrice always has the ultimate say in what course we take, but the rest of our pack are allowed to voice opinions. Except for you. As far as you are concerned, this is strictly a learning experience.” Anxiety tightened her mother’s voice like a guitar string.
Claire de Lune Page 14
