Claire De Lune (11 page)

“Don’t freak out,” it said.

Claire backed across the clearing as fast as she could, nearly falling over the well-hidden remains of the fire in the process, and ducked behind a tree. Her mouth was open, but some primitive instinct kept her scream locked in her lungs. If she screamed, they’d find her for sure.

A thin figure slid through the trees, walking into the shaft
of moonlight that struck the clearing. “Claire?” Zahlia called, her pale features scanning the trees.

Claire stepped out from her hiding place, her heart thudding. “Jesus! You scared the crap out of me,” she breathed.

“Sorry.” Zahlia folded herself down onto the same fallen limb where Claire had been sitting. “I didn’t mean to.”

“No, it’s fine. So, uh, hey.”

“Hey, yourself. What brings you to the clearing when it’s not a full moon? Is your mom around?” Zahlia asked, her eyes glittering in the bluish light.

Claire shrugged. “No, it’s just me. I felt sort of like practicing, so I came out to the woods, and then I kind of wandered over, I guess. I didn’t even know if I’d be able to find it.” She felt heat rise into her cheeks. “My mom doesn’t really know I’m out. Am I not supposed to be here?”

“You’re allowed to be in the gathering place. And of course I won’t tell your mom that you were here. It’s just that usually I’m the only one who ever comes, other than when we all meet. It’s a good place to think.”

Claire sat down across from Zahlia. “Yeah, I can see that. It didn’t seem like a very good place to practice, though.”

“Really?” Zahlia cocked her head to one side. “Why not?”

“It just felt too … sort of out in the open, or something.”

Zahlia grinned. “That’s a great sign.”

“It is?” Claire sounded startled, even to herself.

“Sure,” Zahlia said. “Not wanting to be seen while you’re
in your true form—it means your instincts are strong. And the stronger your instincts, the easier it is to learn, to be good at the things we can do.”

“Oh. Well—okay then.” Being good at being a werewolf was better than nothing, right? Claire wiped the moisture off her temples and winced as the perspiration matted the fur on the backs of her hands.

“You look hot.” Zahlia smiled. “There’s a way to fix that, you know.”

“Uh, no. What do you mean?” Claire sat up, interested. Sweat trickled down her spine and pooled in the small of her back.

“Close your eyes and think of something really cold. Snow, ice—it doesn’t matter what.”

The icicles that clung to the edge of her window every winter popped into Claire’s head. The way they hung there like a set of uneven, shimmering teeth …

“Do you have something?” Zahlia asked.

Claire nodded.

“Okay, so this is where it gets a little tricky. You have to sort of pull that idea around you, like a cloak, and hold it there.”

The cool air that slid through her fur surprised Claire, and her eyes flew open.
Holy crap.
The heat rushed back over her.

Zahlia laughed. “We’re not done yet. You have to stay focused. That was only the first step. Why don’t you try again?”

Claire squeezed her eyes shut and pulled the cold around
herself, shivering a little against the sudden chill.

“Great,” Zahlia whispered. “Now you’ve got to let it in. Hold it under your skin, the same way you keep your wolf-self hidden.”

Claire felt the cold slide under her fur. It was like the jolt of diving into icy water on a hot day—shock and relief at the same time, and the tiniest edge of pain that disappeared as her body adjusted to the change. She opened her eyes and stared at Zahlia in disbelief.

“That’s amazing,” she breathed.

Zahlia nodded. “I love that one, especially. It really comes in handy when you’re hunting—keeps the temperature from being a distraction. Go on, move a little—give it a try.”

Claire ran a little way into the woods, experimenting. An hour ago, even a short run had left her panting and drained. Now, the heat of her exertion was whisked away by the cold inside her. Claire let out a
yip
of pleasure. She could run for miles, for hours, like this. Without the thick air pressing down on her, she was filled with new energy. It tingled through her, and she shivered happily as she made her way back into the clearing.

“So—I can do this to stay warm, too?”

“Sure. You can keep either heat or cold beneath your skin, but only as a werewolf
.
In your human form, you’ve gotta listen to the weatherman, just like anyone else. You’ll get hot and cold like the rest of the humans.”

Claire nodded, grateful. “Thank you so much for teaching me that. It’s just—it’s nice to have these extra things, you know? It kind of helps make up for everything else.”

Zahlia wrapped her arms around her legs and stared at Claire. “Being a werewolf isn’t a curse, Claire. It’s hard, but it’s got more benefits than drawbacks, I promise. Wait until the first time you get to hunt with the whole pack. It’s amazing—like you’re everywhere at once, and totally unstoppable. Humans don’t get to feel that. The Goddess has given only us that honor.”

Claire rubbed a hand across her forehead. “Yeah, okay.” She wasn’t really convinced about the whole honor-of-the-hunt thing yet—she’d still trade it in if she could be normal again. She took a deep breath. “So, what else can we do?”

“Oh, lots of stuff, as long as you’re in your true form. Fire will do your bidding. Some of us can open locks with our thoughts. Things like that.”

Claire’s mouth fell open.
Well, that’s a hell of a lot better than just being able to hunt in the off-season.
“When can I learn them?”

“Soon enough.” Zahlia stood up and brushed the dirt off her pants. “I’ve gotta go if I’m going to able to drag my butt out of bed tomorrow morning.”

“Oh—sorry. I used up all your thinking time, huh?”

Zahlia smiled at her. “Are you kidding? I’m happy I could help. I just wish I could stay longer, show you some more stuff.
Really, Claire, the sooner you master all of this, the faster you’ll realize that your old life is nothing to mourn, that being human is boring.”

“Maybe.” Claire shrugged. Most of the humans she knew had lives that seemed a hell of a lot simpler than hers did. There was something to be said for that.

Zahlia laughed. “Give it a little time, New One. If you want, we can meet again next week, work on some things.”

“That would be really great, actually. I’d like that.”

“Good. You’ll have an easier time getting home if you stay in your true form. The scent trail will be easier to follow.” Zahlia jumped over the log where she’d been sitting and strode to the edge of the clearing. “See you next week.”

“Yeah,” said Claire, heading for the faint path that had brought her through the woods. “Thanks.”

Only a few yards into the forest, Claire started to get tired. With each tree she passed her fatigue grew, like she’d finished the hardest workout of her life and the adrenaline rush had finally faded. The sight of her practice spot sent a wave of relief through her, and she nearly lay down and slept on the spot.

Instead, Claire forced herself to transform. She crept back across the lawn and into the house, took the quickest shower in history, and fell into bed with her hair still wet.

The relentless clanging of pots and pans forced its way into
her dream, waking Claire. She lay blinking at the clock on her bedside table. It was only eleven thirty, for crying out loud. Did Lisbeth really have to make that much noise in the kitchen?

Still half-asleep, Claire stumbled into the bathroom and stared at the mass of snarled hair framing her face. That’s what she got for not drying it before bed.

While she picked through the mess of tangles, Claire called Emily.

“Hey,” Emily answered, her voice glum.

“Hey, yourself. How’d things go with your parents last night?”

“Ugh. I mean,
ugh.
They weren’t listening at all. And my mom wants to go shopping with me later—”

“Well, that might be good, right? Some time to talk?” Claire interrupted.

“You didn’t let me finish. She’s taking me shopping for luggage.
Luggage!
Like I’m going on some sort of old-lady cruise or something.”

Claire winced. “Oh. Ouch. Maybe you won’t find anything you like?”

“Ha. I don’t think that’s going to stop them, but nice try. How about you? Did you do anything fun yesterday?”

“Actually, yeah, Matthew and I went to The Juice Junction.”

“You did
?
That’s awesome. How was it? What did you talk about? Did he kiss you?”

“Um, you know … we just talked about random stuff.”

Stuff I can’t really tell you about, that’s all.
Emily would kill to hear the specifics of the conversation, but Claire had promised Matthew she wouldn’t say anything. And she’d meant it.

“Fine, you talked,” Emily teased impatiently. “But what about the kissing? C’mon, you know I’m living vicariously through your love life right now.”

“Yeah, we kissed,” Claire said, tingling with the memory of it. “And yeah, it was amazing. But that’s all I’m saying.”

“Okay, I can take a hint. I’ll change the subject. So, um … anything else exciting happen yesterday?”

An image of the trees flashing past her as she ran through the woods popped into Claire’s mind.

“No, not really.” God, it was starting to feel like there wasn’t anything she could talk to Emily about. It was weird and uncomfortable and it made Claire want to get off the phone. “Listen, I’ve gotta get downstairs for lunch before Lisbeth gets ticked. Call me later?”

“Yeah, sure.” Emily sighed. “I’ll tell you all about my fabulous matching suitcases.”

After they’d hung up, Claire stared at the phone in her hand and let out a long, slow breath. Friends weren’t supposed to lie to each other, but what other choice did she have?

C
LAIRE
STARED AT
the ringing phone, chewing the last bite of her toast while Matthew’s number flashed on the screen. Since his soccer practice schedule had picked up and Lisbeth still didn’t want her out after dark, it had been nearly a week since she’d seen him, though they talked almost every day. She swallowed, winced, and answered.

“Hello?”

“Claire, hi!”

“Hey, Matthew, what’s up?”

“Not much, actually. Sore quads and memorizing plays, mostly, since practice is cancelled this afternoon.”

“Really? That’s frustrating, huh?” Hope made Claire fluttery. He had an afternoon off ?

“Not so much, since it gives me some time to see you … except …” He paused.

“Except what?”

“Well, see, here’s the thing—my dad has this rally scheduled this afternoon, and I have to go, but I really want to hang out with you.”

Claire hesitated. She was dying to see Matthew, but at a rally for Dr. Engle?

“Listen, it’s going to suck, but it would suck a lot less if you went with me. I know it’s not exactly dinner and a movie, but—,” he hesitated.

“Well, why not? I’ve never been to a rally before,” she said.
And it’s not like anyone will know that I’m a werewolf, right?

“Great. I’ll pick you up at two thirty.”

There were more people than Claire had expected. They’d set up folding chairs and tables with bakery cookies and damp bottles of water that glistened in the sun. Kids ran through the crowd, their T-shirts emblazoned with the outline of a howling wolf, partly hidden behind an enormous red
X
. Some of the people milling around the tables held signs with the same image, others had posters that said
SUPPORT THE NEW P.A.C.
The heat had left everyone flushed and sweating, anxious for the rally to begin in earnest.

A beefy man sporting a sweat-stained ball cap clapped Matthew on the shoulder. “Hey! I seen your picture in the paper—you’re Dr. Engle’s son, right? You must be pretty proud of your pops, huh?”

“Uh, yeah,” Matthew stammered, blushing as several people turned to look at him curiously. “He’s been working real hard on all this.”

Claire couldn’t stop the grin that inched across her face while Matthew squirmed under the attention of his father’s admirers.

“Good man, Dr. Engle. We’re lucky to have him.” The man caught sight of someone behind Matthew. “Hey! Jim! You need a hand with the rest of those signs?”

Matthew grabbed Claire’s hand and pulled her to the back of the crowd. “Ugh, it never
stops
,” he complained. He dropped his voice. “It’s not like he ended world hunger, or anything. He’s only trying to get everyone fired up because he’s worried that Lycanthropy Researchers International is losing interest in the case. And if he doesn’t get into the LRI, he might not get to stay with the Federal Human Protection Agency.”

Huh. So Dr. Engle doesn’t have everyone dazzled, after all.

At the front of the crowd, a stage had been erected. Someone had draped it—crookedly, Claire noted—with red and blue bunting. There was a podium in the center with a microphone poking out of it. Behind the podium Dr. Engle stood, adjusting his hair, his wilting collar, and the microphone in
quick succession. He tapped the mike and a stream of feedback squealed out of the speakers. A collective groan rose from the crowd, but they all stopped talking and turned to face the stage.

“I’d like to thank you all for coming out in the heat to support us today.” The sun glinted off his expensive-looking teeth when he talked. “I know you’d all like to get back to the air-conditioning, so I’ll keep this brief. We here in Hanover Falls have been living for too long under the twin shadows of fear and uncertainty. The fine, upstanding citizens of our community do not deserve to have their activities cut short by the arrival of darkness—they do not deserve to have their nights plagued by the apprehension that something might be lurking outside their windows. It’s not fair, and I for one will not stand for it one more second.”

Even from the back of the crowd, Claire could see Dr. Engle’s knuckles turning white as he squeezed the edges of the podium in his long hands. All around her, people strained forward like flowers leaning toward the sun.