Claire de Lune

by Christine Johnson

  “Yeah, okay.” Claire shifted from one foot to the other. It’s not like I have anything to add, anyway. Why is she freaking about this?

  “Good.”

  Claire could smell her mother’s relief, sharp and clean.

  “What you do in our pack—it reflects on me as well. Your mistakes can affect my status. I do not wish to give my position in the pack to Zahlia. Am I making myself clear?”

  Claire nodded and tried to ignore the headache that blossomed behind her eyes. So if I screw up, I hurt both of us. Yeah, no pressure there at all.

  The shadows around them seemed darker than usual.

  “Um, Mom?”

  Her mother turned to look at her, her lack of patience pinching her lips.

  “I was just wondering—Victoria said the other night that the seule wouldn’t be dangerous if we weren’t hunting her. Is that true?”

  “I wouldn’t say that she’s not dangerous. But I think her desire to stay hidden, to be left alone, would prevent her from attacking a wolf who wasn’t tracking her. You don’t need to be concerned.”

  Her mother stopped speaking as the clearing appeared before them. Beatrice squatted near the fire, watching as Victoria adjusted the logs.

  “Claire, I greet you.” Beatrice’s eyes were bright with anticipation.

  “Beatrice, I greet you,” Claire answered smoothly. She turned to Victoria, whose wide grin was infectious. “Victoria, I greet you,” she said, with genuine happiness. Claire’s mother put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed it appreciatively.

  So far, so good.

  Zahlia, Judith, and Katherine arrived almost simultaneously, and greetings were offered. Zahlia turned to Beatrice and showed the older woman the side of her pale neck. Claire sensed the submission in her posture. Zahlia opened her mouth to speak, but Claire’s mom beat her to it.

  “We should transform before we discuss the issue. It’ll be easier, and there’s less chance we’ll be overheard that way.” Claire’s mother scanned the woods around them with her sharp photographer’s eyes.

  Zahlia looked up from her spot by the fire. “That’s not fair to Claire. You know she can’t fully transform. Besides, if we’re discovered in the woods, we’ll have bigger problems than having been overheard.”

  “Claire is not permitted to participate in our discussion tonight—and she will still be able to hear us, even partially transformed.” Claire’s mother sounded irritated.

  “Marie is right,” Judith said. “Since Claire won’t be any help, we need to do what’s best for everyone else.”

  Claire crossed her arms. She was glad to have Zahlia sticking up for her, but having everyone talk about her like she wasn’t even there made her feel like a five-year-old who’d been caught coloring on the walls.

  Everyone looked at Beatrice.

  “Claire,” she said slowly. “I am sorry, but your mother is right. We need to remain as concealed as possible, and it is easier to do that in our wolf-forms. We will transform.”

  Claire’s mother looked pleased that Beatrice had sided with her. Zahlia stiffened and walked over to sit next to Claire.

  “I just wanted to say that I’m sorry they’re going to keep you muzzled tonight.”

  At the edge of the firelight, Claire’s mother stalked back and forth impatiently.

  Without waiting for Claire to respond, Zahlia got up and went to kneel in front of Beatrice. With her finger, she sketched a rough map in the dirt of the paths where she’d tracked the seule.

  Claire’s mother shot an exasperated look at the back of Zahlia’s head.

  “Perhaps,” she suggested, her voice tart as a lemon, “we could discuss your findings as a group, Zahlia?”

  Anger skittered across Zahlia’s face as she turned to face Claire’s mom. “That’s not your command to give, Marie. Watch your place.”

  “I am merely asking why we are waiting, Zahlia.”

  Her mother’s cool restraint made Zahlia’s outburst seem childish. Claire’s mom had used the same move on her plenty of times, and it sucked.

  “I was just trying to get a map drawn before we started. To cut down on the confusion.”

  “She’s not wrong, Marie,” Katherine said. “We need to know where we’re looking.”

  “Enough!” Beatrice’s voice was firm. “Zahlia is right—the map is important, and we have not wasted our time by having her draw it.”

  Claire’s mother took a deep breath and sank down near the fire. “Certainly, Beatrice.”

  Claire scooted back until she was in line with the other women, and her mother shot her a quick look that clearly said watch yourself.

  She really doesn’t trust me at all. Claire gnawed on a ragged cuticle and focused on keeping her bitter feelings from trailing across her face.

  “Well,” Zahlia huffed, “I didn’t mean to cause a delay.” She arranged herself on Beatrice’s right side, completing the circle. “I’ll be happy to discuss our strategies whenever you’re ready.”

  She turned to Beatrice and bent her head so low that Claire could see the sharp part in her dark hair.

  Beatrice got to her feet and raised both hands. She began to chant, and a hush fell over the women as they transformed.

  When Claire looked around the firelit circle at the six wolves, a wave of hot jealousy rolled through her. It caught her off guard. She’d gotten used to the idea that she was not like everyone else—that she would change—but she’d never found herself wanting to be a wolf like this. Claire crossed her arms in front of her chest, her fur-covered fists clenched beneath her armpits. It didn’t make the longing that ached in her ribs any less intense, but at least she didn’t feel like she was about to fly apart.

  Zahlia glanced in her direction, and Claire read the sympathy in the quick flick of her dark-furred ears. Claire hunched over in front of the fire, trying to hide her thoughts. She knew the others could read her body language like a news ticker on the bottom of a television screen, and she hated it.

  Beatrice gave one rough bark, and the other wolves turned to face her, ready to begin.

  In spite of Zahlia’s bragging, she really didn’t have much information about the seule. No one knew where the lone wolf had come from or where she was hiding. Claire was surprised when Victoria complained that the seule hadn’t presented herself to their pack.

  I mean, I know that seule s aren’t exactly all about following the rules, but come on. If she’s not going to move on, she should at least have the courtesy to let us know how long she’s planning to stay here—and why. The sandy-brown wolf shook her head once, like she was trying to clear it.

  If she is hunting humans, I assume she believes that we would not receive her with great warmth. Claire’s mother sat very still, confidence pouring from her steady gaze. We must either force her out, or find and confront her. She will do nothing—it is up to us to resolve the situation. I believe that with all of us searching, we can find her tonight and end things before they get even more out of hand.

  I already suggested that, Marie! Zahlia gave an agitated whine. That’s why I was out pacing the woods long after the rest of you had gone home the night of the full moon. You can’t act as though no one else has thought of that idea! I’m the best tracker here—there’s no reason for the rest of you to be out confusing the trail.

  The black wolf began to pant, and Claire wondered if she was imagining the faint smell of panic—thin and biting—that seemed to waft from Zahlia’s fur.

  Send me, Zahlia begged, bending her head low to the grizzled wolf next to her. I will find her for you, I swear it. I don’t need the pack’s help for this. It will be better if I go alone.

  No. We act as a group—you know that. Claire’s mother laid her ears back. We should all search.

  Agreed. Judith’s eyes were bright in the firelight. You cannot cover the whole area alone, Zahlia. And since Katherine and I live in the opposite direction, there is no reason for us not to search that portion of the woods. You are not th
e only decent tracker among us.

  Victoria lay down in the dirt, hiding her nose between her paws. Obviously, she wasn’t going to be hunting a crazed seule— not while she was pregnant.

  Beatrice stood up, the claws on her four feet digging into the earth.

  I will not force anyone to participate in this—especially considering that two of our number are unable to do so. She glanced at Claire. Nor will I prevent anyone from working alongside Zahlia, if they so wish.

  A soft grumble rolled in the black wolf’s throat.

  I will go with you tonight, Zahlia. Together, we can cover more ground. Claire’s mother got to her feet, ignoring Zahlia’s irritation.

  As will we. Katherine pressed against Judith, who flicked her ears in agreement.

  Good. I think I would only serve to slow you down, and I can see that Victoria would not be very helpful, either. The disappointment in Beatrice’s posture was faint, but it was there. The sandy wolf dipped her head. We will make sure Claire arrives home safely, and then we will return to our house.

  Claire’s mouth dropped open. They were really going to split up and search the woods for some sort of freaked-out lone wolf serial killer .

  Oh my God.

  “Wait—” Claire’s human voice sounded strange even to her as it echoed off the trees surrounding the clearing.

  The wolves all turned to face her, surprised that she had spoken. The knife-sharp gaze Marie trained on Claire stopped the rest of the sentence from leaving Claire’s mouth. Panic fluttered in Claire’s chest like a sparrow. Her mother had told her to keep quiet, and she couldn’t even get that right. Crap.

  “Never mind, sorry,” Claire mumbled, staring down at the ground. She couldn’t meet her mother’s disappointed eyes. Of course. I would screw it up right at the very end.

  Are you ready to go? Beatrice’s voice was gentle but firm.

  Claire nodded.

  Then you may lead the way, and we will follow you.

  Claire nodded again, her skin crawling with embarrassment. Her eyes filled and before she started to cry, Claire wheeled around and ran through the woods, her feet pounding down the now-familiar path back to her house. She could hear Victoria and Beatrice behind her, following, but not intruding.

  When Claire reached the wall at the edge of her yard, she heard Victoria give a quiet yip before the two wolves turned and left her alone.

  Claire stopped and leaned against the cool, uneven bricks. The salty tears stung her cheeks and she welcomed the discomfort. She wanted to punish herself for being so stupid, for doing something that could damage her mother.

  And I did just exactly what she told me not to. All I had to do was keep my freaking mouth shut, and I couldn’t even get that right. How could I be such an idiot?

  When her sobbing had slowed enough that the she could see again, Claire crept through the hole and went home to wait for her mother. She slipped into the house, halfheartedly washing the tear streaks from her face. Even though she was sure she wouldn’t be able to sleep, Claire climbed into bed. She lay there and stared at the ceiling. Eventually, her exhaustion won out, and she dozed off.

  When she woke, sunlight streamed through her window, and her neck was stiff from being in one position for too long. In the hall, Claire could hear her mother and Lisbeth talking, but she couldn’t make out what they were saying.

  There was a soft knock on her door before her mother peered in. Tight lines ringed her mouth and dark circles curved underneath her eyes. Marie glanced back at Lisbeth’s room before she began to speak.

  “When you’re up, would you come down to my darkroom, chérie? I’d like to get your opinion on something.”

  Her voice changed the setting on Claire’s heartbeat to panic.

  Claire slid out of bed. “Just let me brush my hair, and I’ll be right down.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  CLAIRE HAD HER hair halfway into a ponytail when the phone rang. It was Emily.

  I so do not have time for this right now.

  Even though she was desperate to hear what her mother had to say, Claire couldn’t ignore the guilt that poured through her, thick and sticky as honey. She picked up the phone.

  “Hello?”

  “Oh my God, Claire I am seriously having the worst week ever,” Emily groaned. The connection fizzed with static.

  “Lean more toward the window,” Claire instructed. “You’re breaking up.”

  “Sorry. But you’ll never guess what Dan did.”

  “Dan?” Claire adjusted her ponytail in the mirror.

  “The guy? Mr. Wholesome? Come on, Claire.” Emily sounded hurt.

  “Right, sorry, what happened?”

  “He tried to give me his freaking class ring last night. Can you believe it?”

  Claire scowled at her reflection in the mirror, confused and antsy. She sort of wanted to care about Emily’s guy problems, but she just … didn’t. “That’s sort of 1986 of him, huh?”

  “It’s worse than that! We’ve only been hanging out for a couple of weeks—I mean, we’ve barely even, you know, fooled around, and he’s trying to—like, claim me or something. It totally freaked me out, and then when I wouldn’t take it, he actually teared up. God. That was the one good thing about being stuck in this hellhole and now it’s all screwed up.”

  “That sucks, Em.” Claire glanced at her watch.

  “What am I going to do now?” Emily moaned.

  “Don’t freak out. We’ll think of something. Listen, I totally hate to do this to you, but my mom’s waiting to talk to me. Can I call you back in a couple of hours and we’ll figure it out then?”

  Emily made a disgusted noise. “Fine, leave me all alone in my misery. Maybe I’ll go ask the stupid chickens what they think I should do.”

  “Emily—,” Claire protested.

  “No, it’s okay,” Emily relented. “I’m just pissy. Go talk to your mom and call me when you’re done. I’m going to go eat some chocolate or something.”

  As soon as she’d hung up, Claire tossed down the phone and sprinted for the door. If the worst thing that had happened to me all summer was some nice farm boy trying to give me jewelry, I’d be freaking ecstatic.

  Claire ignored the jealousy that wound its way around her neck like a snake and swung open the darkroom door.

  Things were bad. Claire knew it before her mom said a single word. The table in front of her mother held four cameras, neatly arranged. There was no film on the table. There were no prints. Behind her, the computer monitor cycled through its screen saver—no digital shot filled its wide frame. Her mother was just sitting there, her dark-circled eyes staring into space. She never did that.

  “Mom? You, uh, wanted to see me?”

  “Yes. Claire, I don’t want to scare you unnecessarily, especially at such a … vulnerable time in your transformation. But I really don’t see how I can keep this from you.”

  Claire sank onto one of the high stools that surrounded the table, her heart jumping up and down in her chest.

  “I have little proof—only suspicions, but I went back out alone after you were in bed last night, and what I found … Claire, we are in much more danger than any of us had thought. Until I know for sure that I am right, I won’t say anything else. It would be unfair. But you must be incredibly careful, Claire. I am no longer sure who—or what—to trust. Please, you must promise not to go out at night without me until I say.” Her mother took Claire’s chin between her long fingers. “Promise me.”

  Claire nodded. “All right. But, Mom, what—” A faint ping interrupted Claire midsentence.

  Her mother glanced down at the phone on her hip and frowned. “We’ll discuss it later, chérie. I need to answer this. I’m going out later to look for more proof, and Lisbeth will be running some errands for me. If she comes home before I do, call me immediately.” Marie spun toward her computer and lifted the phone to her ear. “This is Marie.”

  Claire slid out of the darkroom while her mother made p
lans for a shoot in Turkey. Her mother hadn’t really told her anything at all. Well, at least things are back to normal in one way. And why the hell does she care if Lisbeth gets home before she does, anyway? Without a backward glance, Claire bolted away from the darkroom and went straight upstairs.

  In her room, the phone stared at her accusingly. Matthew was the only person Claire really felt like talking to, but she had promised Emily she’d call back.

  Claire sighed and dialed Emily’s number.

  “Hey, thanks for calling back.” Emily sounded genuinely relieved.

  “No problem.” It turns out that I’m in mortal danger, apparently, but sure, let’s solve a boy problem. Huh. Can I still be in mortal danger if I’m not really human? Claire shook her head.

  “So? What am I going to do about Dan?” Emily asked.

  Claire wanted to tell Emily that she was being ridiculous, that she should be grateful that this was the worst thing that had happened—but that wasn’t fair. None of this was Emily’s fault. I’m the abnormal one here. Claire struggled to imagine what she would have told Emily if this had happened last summer.

  “I don’t think you should do anything. I mean, either he’ll get over it or he won’t, you know? It’s not worth stressing over. If he has any brain cells at all, he’ll realize he’s being an idiot and come crawling back to you. If not—well, your parents can’t leave you out there forever, right?”

  Emily sighed. “It already feels like I’ve been here for ages, but I guess you’re right. I’m just pissed. I mean, so much for a silver lining, you know?”

  Claire heard the crack of a soda can being opened. Emily was the worst Diet Coke addict Claire knew, and that one little sound made Claire miss her more than ever.

  “I wish you were home,” Claire said. “Everything’s more fun when you’re here.”