Claire De Lune (7 page)

Fine. I’ll go back down there and
make
her tell me exactly what I’m supposed to do about this.

Claire spun around and headed for the door.

“Claire?” Lisbeth knocked gently. “Everything okay in there?”

Damn.
Claire glanced at the doorknob. Unlocked.
Damn!
“Uh, yeah, Lisbeth. I just knocked something over.” Claire hurried over to her bathroom, anxious to get another door between the two of them.

“All right, if you’re sure.” Lisbeth sounded doubtful.

“Yep, just getting in the shower,” Claire called, slamming the bathroom door behind her and locking it. She slumped against the wall, relieved. She took a deep breath, and thought about what her mother had told her the night before—that she had to pull herself back into human form, like stuffing the fur back under her skin.

She closed her eyes and tried to concentrate. After a few seconds, she cracked open an eyelid and looked at her hands, which were still covered in fur.
It’s not working!

Claire’s gaze fell on the razor sitting on the edge of the tub.
I said I was getting in the shower. Maybe I’m not such a liar, after all.

Shaving the fur off the backs of her hands was easy, but her ears still had dark patches when she was finished. If she kept her hair down over them, they looked normal enough. Claire wadded up the damp clumps of fur in a pile of toilet
paper and buried them in the trash can. She stared at herself in the mirror.
It’s not perfect, but it’s better than nothing.

Claire stomped downstairs, looking for her mother. On her way to the darkroom, she ran into Lisbeth, her arms full of laundry. The pile of clothes flopped out of her grip, landing on the floor. On top was a lavender T-shirt of Lisbeth’s, spattered with dark stains.

Lisbeth blinked twice and then looked at Claire. “I hope those wine spots come out in the wash.” She gathered up the clothes and held the bundle to her chest.

Wine?
Claire wondered.
Lisbeth never drinks.

“So,” Lisbeth said, her voice breezy. “Off to storm the castle?”

“I’m going to go talk to my mom, actually.”

“Not right now you’re not. She just left to go meet with some potential clients—said she wouldn’t be back until late.”

“What? How could she go when I just—” Claire barely caught herself in time. Not telling Lisbeth what was going on was harder than she’d thought it would be.

“When you just …” Lisbeth prompted.

“Never mind.” Claire turned around and headed back upstairs.
I’ll just wait until she gets home. I can be patient. And then as soon as she comes in, I’ll
make
her tell me everything she left out—like how to keep from turning into a wolf in the middle of the freaking afternoon.

“Hey, Claire?” Lisbeth called after her.

“Yeah?”

“Your ears look sort of funny. Is that rash back? Maybe I should call Dr. Abramowitz and get you an appointment.”

Claire’s hand crept up to cover the mark. “It’s nothing. I just burned myself with a flat iron.”

Lisbeth frowned. “Oh, okay.” She didn’t sound convinced.

Claire bounded upstairs and slammed her bedroom door. The cell phone sitting on the edge of her vanity caught her eye. The screen flashed at her—four new messages.

Claire flipped open the phone and speed-dialed her voicemail. The first message was from Matthew. His voice sounded shaky, and Claire could hear other people and cars in the background.

“I just wanted to make sure that you got home okay, since—well. Since what happened at the neighbors’ last night. Call me, okay?”

Claire deleted the message. The next two voicemails were from Emily. She demanded details about the night before—what had they watched, had the outfit worked, had they kissed? Claire was dying to talk to Emily but not about Matthew. She wanted to tell her best friend that her mother had ruined her life last night. But she thought about the dead-serious look on her mother’s face when she’d told Claire not to say anything. And also she didn’t really know how Emily would take that sort of news. Claire sighed and deleted Emily’s voicemails. The last message was blank. Claire checked the missed calls list—it had been Matthew, again.

There was no way she could talk to Matthew right now. It sucked that he was worried, even though it sent a little ripple of happiness through her middle to think that he had called—
twice
—just to check on her. The phone buzzed in her hand and Claire looked down at the screen. Emily. Claire shut her eyes and answered the phone, throwing herself down onto her unmade bed. She braced herself for Emily’s inquisition.

“Hello?” Claire tried to make her voice sound normal.

“Hey.” Emily’s voice held none of its usual excitement. She sounded sort of depressed, actually.

“Are you okay?” asked Claire.

“Not really.” Emily’s voice trembled. “Mom and Dad freaked out about the Engles’ neighbors. They’re talking about making me go stay with Aunt Masie until school starts. On the stupid
farm
. I am so, so pissed off right now. I don’t even think they get cell phone reception out there. Oh my God, Claire, I’m going to
die
if they send me away for the rest of the summer!”

If they send her away, at least I won’t have to think of a way to hide this from her, too.
Her best friend was about to be shipped off and her first thought was “great”? Guilt filled Claire’s throat. It choked her when she tried to talk. “Emily—that’s horrible. I know your parents are sort of paranoid, but this is really over the top.”

“I know. I swear to God, Claire, they’re actually
trying
to ruin my life.” The thought of Emily leaving made Claire ache.
She’d never been away from her best friend for more than a week. Now they would have to spend the whole summer apart if they couldn’t think of a way to stop Emily’s parents from going off the deep end.

“Emily, breathe. They’re just worried about what happened to Matthew’s neighbors. My—my mom’s totally freaked out, too.”
That’s only sort of a lie, right? She said that the pack is worried about what’s happening. …

Claire hadn’t ever hidden anything this big from Emily. And it sucked.

“Oh my God, I didn’t even ask you about yesterday! What happened? How was it? Did he kiss you?”

Claire bit her lip. She didn’t really want to talk about Matthew, but she couldn’t bring herself to lie to Emily about everything. “Almost. He would have if his dad hadn’t interrupted us.”

“Oh my God, didn’t I
tell
you he liked you? Were you so mad at his dad?”

“Not as mad as Matthew looked,” Claire admitted. The memory of Matthew’s frustrated expression made her smile.

“Well, next time for sure. There is going to be a next time, right? Have you talked to him today? I mean—has he called you?”

“Uh, yeah, he called, but I haven’t called him back yet. I just got up a little bit ago, and then my mom wanted to talk to me and stuff.”

“Then why are you still talking to me? Get off the phone and call him! I have to go beg my parents to see reason, anyway. Call me later, okay? And do you wanna hang out tomorrow?”

“Sure, tomorrow sounds great,” said Claire. “I’ll call you. Good luck with your parents.”

Emily groaned and hung up the phone without saying good-bye. Claire caught sight of her face in the mirror and it stopped her cold.
It’s because of me. Emily’s parents are going to send her away because they’re afraid of
me. …

IT WAS WELL
after dark before Claire could bring herself to call Matthew. “Hello?”

“Um, hi, Matthew.”

“Claire!” Relief flooded his voice. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m sorry about your neighbors. Things must have been pretty nuts around there today, huh?” She hoped that he would just think she sounded shaky because she was upset about the murders.

“Totally. My dad’s in hyperdrive, and if the news guys aren’t in our living room, the cops are. He doesn’t think it’s a coincidence that it was our neighbors who were attacked,
so he’s taking it way more personally than usual. Mom and I are just trying to stay out of his way.”

Claire’s head spun. She sat down on the edge of her bed and drew in a deep breath.

“Claire?”

“Yeah, I’m here. So, your dad—he thinks this was like, some sort of warning?”

“I guess. Or taunting, more like. Like that
thing
thinks it can’t be caught, that my dad’ll never get him.” He laughed. “It was like waving a red cape in front of a bull. He’s more determined than ever to find the werewolf. Then he’ll be able to use his cure—like Superman saving his own town, you know?”

Claire managed a weak chuckle.

“Do you want to meet at the club tomorrow? It’s too hot for anything but swimming, anyway.”

The thought of Matthew standing at the edge of the Brookshire Country Club pool in his swim trunks made Claire’s fingertips tingle. She swallowed hard.

“I—I can’t. I have to keep the day open for Emily tomorrow, in case she has to leave.” It sounded lame, even to Claire, but there was no way she could see him right now. Not when there was a chance she might sprout fur with no warning. “Maybe some other time,” she added, before she could stop herself.

“Oh, yeah, sure.”

“Listen, I’ve gotta go, but, um, I hope things settle down over there soon, okay?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

Claire could hear the confusion in his voice.
This is so unfair! Someone like Matthew Engle is actually interested in me, and his stupid dad is ruining it. Well, that and the fact that I’m the spawn of the wolf-woman. There’s no way I can see him until I figure out how to keep the werewolf crap in check.
Her head throbbed. She could be as sarcastic as she wanted, but it was still true, and it still sucked.

“Okay, well, uh, I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Okay,” he said, his voice brightening considerably.

They hung up and Claire stared at the phone in her hand. She just had to avoid him for a little while, that’s all, until she had a better handle on what was happening.

That night, Claire lay awake for hours, waiting for her mother. As soon as Marie got home, Claire was going to confront her. Make her explain why fur had just appeared on her like that, and how to keep it from ever happening again. She listened for the sound of the Mercedes speeding up the drive, but it never came.

She watched the late news, and then the
Late Show
. With each minute that passed, she got angrier and angrier. It was so like her mom to just disappear at a time like this. And Claire didn’t even know how to find any of the other women she’d met last night. When a rerun of the news started, she checked the clock—two a.m. She threw off the covers and padded
across the room. The door creaked when it swung open and she winced. She poked her head out and peered down the hall. Lisbeth’s door was shut and Claire could hear her snoring even more loudly than usual.

She wandered down into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. She pulled out a plate of steak left over from dinner.

“Still awake,
chérie
?” Her mother’s voice came from the darkened dining room, making Claire jump. The plate of food tipped in her hand, and she barely managed to hang on to it.

“Jesus, don’t
do
that. When did you get home? I didn’t even hear you come in. God.” Claire’s heart thudded away in her chest, and the sharp smell of adrenaline wafting up from her body made her eyes water.
Why can I smell that?

“There is no God, Claire. I thought I had explained that.”

“It’s just a figure of speech, Mom.” She sniffed the air—as her heart slowed the sour tang faded. In the dark her mother smiled approvingly.

“Your sense of smell is developing. That’s good.”

“Something else you forgot to mention, I guess,” Claire muttered.

Her mother tensed. “Is something the matter?”

“Oh, no, not at all.” Claire couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of her voice. “Not only am I a freak of nature, but it turns out that it’s not just once a month. I could sprout fur at any second. It’ll probably come in real handy in the winter. Except that it might make it pretty awkward to be with, you know,
people
, I guess. Man, I just can’t
wait
to find out what other superfabulous things are going to happen to me next.” Tears brimmed in her eyes, making the food in front of her seem to waver. She knew she’d get in trouble for talking to her mother that way, but right then she couldn’t have cared less.
How could things get any worse, anyway? What’s she going to do, ground me?

A look of surprise crossed her mother’s face. “It is very unusual that you should transform like that. Most who are as new as you don’t have the ability to change on their own. They need the strength of the full moon to do it.”

“So I’m strange even for a monster? Great.”

“You are not a monster, Claire. Stand still.” Marie put a firm hand on Claire’s shoulder. “We
must
transform at the full moon. The Goddess, the One who created us, makes our true natures so strong on that one night that we must reveal them. But once a werewolf matures into her powers, she is able to change at any time.”

Under her mother’s grip, Claire’s skin felt tightened, pulled, and her senses dulled.

“There. Returned to your human form,” her mother said.

Claire could still smell her mother’s surprise. She could hear the filament buzzing in the lightbulb above the sink.

“If I’m human, how come I can still smell and hear so much?”

“Because you are truly a werewolf, Claire. This skin is just a disguise. You have passed the first moon of your transformation and from now on, your senses, your strength—they
will always be more sensitive and intense than a human’s. Even when you look the same as everyone else. I understand that this is new, and that it is not easy, but you must try to be patient.”

“Patient! You left me on my own, looking like Grizzly Adams. Was I just supposed to hang out looking like that until you got home? I didn’t know how to get rid of it! What if Lisbeth had seen me?”