Claire De Lune (14 page)

“Well—” Zahlia hesitated. “There is occasionally a human who does.”

Excitement slid up Claire’s spine. “Really?”

“It’s extremely rare. Every once in a really long while, some bizarre circumstances will come up, and we reveal our identities to a human. Maybe we need something from them, or maybe one discovers us accidentally. If they’re willing, they become a secret-keeper, a
gardien
. I haven’t ever known one, but they do exist. I think your great-great-grandmother or some such belonged to a pack back in France that had a
gardien
, but you’d have to ask your mother about that.”

Claire crushed a dried leaf to powder in her fingers, thinking. “So, were they, like, friends with her?”

Zahlia shook her head. “That would be extremely unlikely—too risky for everyone. Plus, what would they have in common, really, besides the secret? I mean, a secret-keeper is
human.
So. Who is it you wish you could tell?”

Claire blinked, startled. “How did you know?”

“Because everyone feels that way at first.”

“Yeah. I guess that makes sense. It just seems like this would all be a lot easier if I could talk to my best friend about it.” Claire shoved down a wave of emotion. It made her chest feel tight.

“You know you can’t, right? It doesn’t work that way. And think, Claire, how burdened this secret makes you feel, in spite of the benefits and abilities that come with it.”

Claire couldn’t stop them any longer—the tears fell.

“Hey, don’t cry. Come on, think about it. Besides the fact that it’s forbidden—that it would be an enormous risk to our pack—would you really want your friend to suffer like you’re suffering? Telling wouldn’t just be dangerous, Claire. It would be hugely selfish.”

Claire’s jaw tightened and her voice was little more than a breath. “I hadn’t thought of it that way.” She rubbed a hand across her weary eyes. “Can we just bag this for tonight? I’m totally exhausted.”

Zahlia stood up and stretched. “Fine by me. I’m actually pretty tired, too. Want me to run home with you?”

Claire shook her head. “Nah, I got it. But thanks for meeting me and talking and everything.”

Zahlia squeezed her shoulder. “I had a good time. You think for yourself, Claire, and I like that. I like it a lot.”

The compliment made a warm spot in Claire’s chest.

“I’ll call you soon.”

Zahlia transformed on the spot, her dark fur blending in with the night around them. Claire picked up the shorts and top Zahlia had worn and handed them to the wolf, who took them in her mouth and waved her tail once in thanks before streaking off into the woods like a shot.

Claire turned and limped home, exhausted in every possible sense of the word.

W
HEN
MATTHEW CALLED
the next day and suggested they go mini-golfing, Claire leapt at the chance for a distraction. Matthew seemed a little surprised when she wouldn’t let him pick her up, but agreed to meet her there.

Her mom was going to be gone all afternoon looking at some new camera lenses. Claire just told Lisbeth that she was meeting some friends, and Lisbeth reluctantly agreed to drive her. In spite of the scorching heat, the Putt-Putt parking lot was crowded with families and couples, and Lisbeth was too focused on not hitting anyone to even wave good-bye, much less examine who Claire was meeting. Besides,
you couldn’t even see around to the front of the putter shack from the parking lot.

Claire leaned on the handle of her putter and watched as Matthew expertly tapped his ball through the windmill blades. She shaded her eyes with her hand.

“Another hole in one,” she muttered, marking the humidity-softened scorecard with the tiny pencil. “If soccer doesn’t work out, maybe you should go out for the golf team.”

Matthew grinned. “No way. Have you seen the dudes on the golf team? Man, talk about uptight. Anyway, I’m only good at miniature golf. I suck at the real thing.”

“I doubt that.” Claire grinned back. They leaned against the split rail fence that surrounded the course and waited for the family ahead of them to finish the safari-themed hole that came next. Claire stifled a yawn.

“Up late?” Matthew asked.

Claire searched his voice for a hint that there was more to his question than small talk, but there was nothing else there. She forced her shoulders to relax. “Yeah, kind of. I was watching something and just sort of lost track of time.” A true statement, but not incriminating in the least. So far, so good.

“Was it the
Late Show
?” Matthew asked, wiping the sweat off his forehead.

“Uh, no, it was something on TiVo.” Claire shifted uneasily.

“A movie?”

She could tell he was just making conversation, but she didn’t want to lie any more than absolutely necessary—it was too hard to remember, otherwise. It was easier to change the subject. “What’d I miss on the
Late Show
?”

“Oh, man, they had the funniest guy on there. He did this whole routine on the difference between guys and their dogs—”

“So what’s the difference? Between the guys and the dogs?” Claire interrupted, eager to feed his enthusiasm for the new topic.

“Okay, so you know how dogs are always using their paws to scratch behind their ears?”

Claire nodded, then winced when Matthew delivered the somewhat questionable punch line.

“Well,” he admitted, “it was probably funnier when the comedian did it.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Yeah, well, it’s just lucky I don’t like you for your joke-telling ability.”

“I’m lucky you like me, period,” he laughed, wrapping his warm hand around hers.

Claire cringed, sure he would be grossed out by her damp palm, but he didn’t seem to mind.

It would be so nice to be able to control her temperature the way she could when she was a wolf. She was starting to hate the sticky-slick feeling of her human skin, hated the constant worry about how the heat was making her look, but
she was stuck with it—at least until they could get back into Matthew’s air-conditioned car.

With their fingers linked, they wandered up to the next tee. Matthew leaned forward and gave her a quick kiss before he bent forward to put his golf ball on the worn Astroturf. “And now,” he announced, “prepare to be amazed.”

Claire stepped back to give him some room. This felt normal. Being with Matthew felt
normal
. A bright bubble of happiness formed in her chest. She reminded herself that Emily was leaving for her aunt’s house this afternoon. But it didn’t make any difference in her mood. How could it? Matthew—the most beautiful guy she’d ever seen—had just kissed her in front of a ton of people.

“Yo, Engle!” The voice floated up the hill from one of the holes below Claire and Matthew. Matthew leaned over the fence, scanning the crowd.

“Doug! What’s up?” he called back.

“You coming to my party?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Cool! You bringin’ Claire?”

Claire peered over the fence. Doug, who she recognized from the soccer team, waved up at her.

“Hey, Claire.” The smile on his face looked genuine.

“Hey, Doug,” she said, unable to keep the pleasure out of her voice.

Matthew turned to look at her. “You don’t mind do you?
It’s a week from Friday—we can totally just stay for an hour and then go do our own thing.”

“Yeah, sure, that’s fine.” She hid her wince. There had to be a way she could get there without her mother knowing.

Matthew leaned back over the fence. “We’ll be there.”

The older couple behind them started to look impatient, and Claire hurried up to the next hole. She and Matthew spent the next half hour teasing each other about missed shots and cheating on the scorecard.

It was the best afternoon Claire had spent with anyone in ages, and she was still half-floating when Matthew turned onto her street.

“Um, why don’t you just drop me off at the end of the driveway?” she suggested.

Matthew glanced over at her. “Why can’t I just take you up to the house? You have a seriously long driveway, and there’s no reason for you to walk all that way.”

“Um, it’s just—it might be easier, is all.” She could see her mailbox ahead. If he pulled into the driveway and Lisbeth noticed his car, Claire would be dead. She squirmed in her seat.

Matthew braked smoothly, pulling the car off onto the shoulder of the road just in front of Claire’s driveway.

“Okay, babe. What’s up? Seriously.” He turned so that he was facing her.

Claire twisted her hands in her lap. She wanted to make
something up, tell him that the driveway was being repaved, or that Lisbeth had the plague. But when she opened her mouth, the only thing she could think of was the truth.

“It’s my mom.” She sighed. “She sort of told me that she didn’t want me to see you anymore.”

Matthew’s eyes widened. “But why? She hasn’t even really met me, except for at your birthday party.”

Claire dropped her gaze and stared at the gearshift between them. She was afraid that if she looked him in the face, she’d end up telling him everything.

“Oh my God,” Matthew whispered, and Claire glanced up at him in spite of herself. “It’s my dad, isn’t it? She’s freaked out because of my dad—she thinks being with me puts you in danger,” he guessed.

It was so close to the truth that Claire almost laughed. She bit her lip and nodded.

“Yeah, that’s pretty much it,” she said, relieved not to be lying, even if Matthew didn’t know exactly what sort of danger his father posed to Claire.

Matthew sighed. “So that’s why you wouldn’t let me pick you up today.”

Claire nodded. “Are you mad?”

Matthew put a hand on her cheek. “Of course not. Our parents’ problems are—well … They’re not our problem. I don’t want you to get in trouble over this, though.”

Claire leaned closer to him, breathing in his scent of
soap and sun. “I think it’s worth getting in trouble over,” she said, closing her eyes.

When Matthew spoke, his mouth was so close to hers that she could feel the vibration of his words against her lips. “Then we’ll just be very, very careful.”

Claire would have said something in agreement, but her mouth was much too busy. The kiss consumed her, drove out every thought that wasn’t Matthew. They wound tighter together, and Claire shivered as his fingertips traced a path down her spine and around her waist.

The gearshift was jammed uncomfortably into her thigh, and when Claire tried to shift away from it, Matthew paused, leaning his forehead against hers.

“Okay, it’s broad daylight and we’re on the side of the road,” he observed in a strained voice.

“It’s a very private road,” Claire panted.

He laughed a low, rumbling laugh that went straight to Claire’s middle. “Still, this is probably a very bad idea.” He kissed her again, his lips moving down to the edge of her jaw. “Can you really find a way to get to Doug’s party?” His voice was full of concern. “I don’t want to talk you into doing anything you’re uncomfortable with.”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” she whispered.

“Okay.” He straightened up and grinned at her. “Then get out of my car before we get caught, and I’ll call you later.”

Claire opened the door, fully aware that she had a
ridiculous smile on her face, and not caring in the least. “That sounds fabulous.”

As she made her way up the shimmering-hot driveway, Claire heard his car drive away. When she opened the front door, Lisbeth looked up from the couch where she was sorting a pile of papers.

“Oh! I didn’t hear a car,” she said, surprise crossing her face.

Claire shrugged, not trusting herself to say anything.

“So, did you have fun?” Lisbeth asked.

“Yeah, we had a great time. But it was too hot. I’m gonna go for a swim, if you don’t mind.”

“That’s fine. I may even join you when I’m done with this.” Lisbeth went back to her papers and Claire floated up the stairs. She hadn’t even had to tell Lisbeth outright lies. … It was just a matter of making people see a different side of the truth, that was all.

Claire was lying across the foot of her bed, flipping through the channels, when someone knocked. Her hair was still damp from swimming, and the chemical scent of the chlorine tickled her nose. “Come in,” Claire called, thinking it was Lisbeth.

The door opened and her mother came in. She shut the door behind her. Claire swallowed hard.

“Hey,” she said, trying to sound natural.

“We need to talk.” Her mother sat on the bench in front of Claire’s vanity.

Oh, crap.

Claire sat up and braced herself.

“You’ve seen Matthew again, haven’t you?” The hard glint in her eyes made Claire shiver.

“What makes you say that?”

Her mother straightened the cuffs of her shirt. “This is no time for games. I know you left the house last night. You were not in your room until almost four in the morning. Explain yourself.”

Relief rushed through Claire. Fine. This she could handle.

“You’re right, I wasn’t here. But I wasn’t with Matthew.”

Her mother stared at her, waiting.

“I was with Zahlia. She was helping me—practicing with me so that I’d be ready for the next moon. Call her and check if you don’t believe me.” Claire crossed her arms in front of her.

Her mother pressed her lips together. Claire could tell she was mad, but she could also smell confusion, bright and almost electrical, coming off her.

“You were practicing? But you haven’t completed your transformation yet. What would you be practicing?”

Claire shrugged. “Hunting, a little bit. And some other stuff she showed me how to do. It’s no big deal, Mom. I wasn’t going to tell anyone else, but I don’t want to look like a moron when I transform, and that’s exactly what will happen if I don’t know how to do anything.”

“I told you that I would teach you when the time is right.
You should have listened. Zahlia is not the sort of influence that you should have guiding your transformation. I want you to see less of her. I cannot command you—only Beatrice can do that. But I’m concerned that you two have grown too close. This is not just about you, you understand. If our relationships become too close, it is a risk for our pack. The more we associate with one another outside of pack business, the greater our chances of being discovered.”