Claire De Lune (30 page)

* * *

More than a week later, Claire pulled the last clean pair of shorts off her shelf and yanked them on. On top of everything else, she was going to have to do laundry. Great. The TV was on, and a flustered-looking Dr. Engle was being interviewed yet again about the mysterious death of “his” werewolf.

Her bedroom door swung open and Claire’s mother peeked in.

“Don’t you knock?” Claire asked, exasperated.

“Sorry. I did not think you would be up.” She looked at the television. “Are you watching that?”

Claire nodded. “Yeah.” Under her breath, she muttered, “What a total bastard.”

Her mother smiled, her hearing good enough to catch what Claire had said. “The cowardly choice is often the easiest. At least there will be no investigation by the police—you should be grateful for that.”

“I guess.” Claire scooped up a heap of laundry and tossed it onto her bed.

“Tonight we gather,” her mother said quietly, checking over her shoulder to make sure Lisbeth was still downstairs. “I am anxious to see everyone. We will leave at midnight and not a moment later. Please be ready.”

Claire stopped sorting the laundry into piles and looked at her mother. “Yeah, I will. Be ready, I mean.”

A smile darted across her mother’s face so quickly that Claire wasn’t sure she’d seen it at all.

“I think you will enjoy this gathering more than you anticipate. But you must trust me.”

Claire looked down at the dirty T-shirt in her hands. “I do trust you. But I
don’t
really trust Beatrice. Not after everything that happened.” She looked up at her mother. “I know I’m probably not supposed to say stuff like that, since she’s the Alpha and all, but it’s true.”

Her mother nodded slowly. “I understand that. But it is not Beatrice’s fault, Claire. I blame myself—if I had been willing to teach you sooner, perhaps you would better understand our ways, perhaps you would not have been so surprised by Beatrice’s decisions.” She sighed. “But mostly, I blame Zahlia. Her stupid, selfish actions have seriously hurt the bonds of our pack. It will take some time to rebuild them.” Her mother was quiet for a long moment. “Still, I believe something will happen tonight that you will like.”

“If you say so.”

Her mother smiled, slipped back into the hall, and pulled the door shut behind her.

Claire hated it when her mother got all mysterious like that. When she’d found out what her mother really was—that she’d been living a hidden life all those years—Claire had
thought maybe that explained it. She thought that the cryptic little comments and secrets would stop.
Guess not.

One of the piles of laundry in front of her started to ring, and Claire dug through the clothes until she found her cell phone.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Claire.” Matthew’s voice was unusually quiet.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, my dad’s just on a megarampage, and I’m trying to stay out of the way.”

“I saw him on TV. I thought he was at his lab. Where are you?”

“I’m with him. They finally moved the body today, and he needed help. He and his lab tech weren’t strong enough to move her, and I figured if I helped, then it wouldn’t look suspicious if they found my fingerprints there later, or something.”

“Smart.”

“Thanks. Anyway, he dragged me over to the other lab for his latest interview, and they’re almost done asking questions, so I thought I’d call while I had a chance. Listen, if I can get out of here later, do you want to do something tonight?”

Claire sighed. “I wish I could, but I’ve got some, uh, girl stuff to do later. I think I’d better stick around here tonight.”

“‘Girl stuff’? Is that what we’re calling it now?”

The teasing in his voice made Claire warm all the way down to her toes.

“You got a better idea?” she shot back.

“Nah. Oh—they’re finishing up. Okay, not tonight, but tomorrow, then?”

“Yeah, tomorrow’s good,” she said.

“Good. I gotta go. I’ll call you later.”

When she’d flipped the phone shut, Claire sat between the mounds of laundry, turning the phone over and over in her hand, and smiled to herself.

Claire carried a basket of dirty clothes downstairs and found Lisbeth pulling a load of clothes out of the dryer.

“Hey.” Claire tipped the basket of laundry into the empty washer and grabbed the detergent. Lisbeth smiled but didn’t say anything. Something about her eyes looked funny too. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Lisbeth pulled a pair of jeans out of the pile and started folding.

Claire hesitated.
Something
was going on. “Are you sure?”

Lisbeth sighed. “Yeah. I guess it’s time I told you. Do you remember Mark—the guy I met a while ago, the one from yoga?”

Claire nodded.

“Well, we’ve been seeing each other. A lot. And it’s getting pretty serious. He wants me to move in with him.”

Everything clicked into place and Claire felt her mouth drop open. The late-night phone calls, the weird outings after dark—Lisbeth had a secret boyfriend. Delight flooded
through Claire. If Lisbeth moved in with him, everyone would be happy. She’d have more freedom. Lisbeth would finally have a life of her own. And maybe her mom would be forced to buy her a car after all. It was perfect.

“So, why do you look so worried? Don’t you want to live with him?”

“Of course I do! I’m just—I’ve been anxious about you. I know you’re not a kid anymore, but I feel like I’m abandoning you.”

Claire rolled her eyes. “Come on. You wouldn’t be abandoning me. I mean, I’m already doing my own laundry, right? And besides, we could still hang out.”

Lisbeth looked relieved. “Of course. I mean, I’d still work here, if your mom’ll let me. I just wouldn’t
live
here.”

Claire grabbed her empty basket. “You should do what you want—I’m going to be fine. Really.” She stared hard at Lisbeth, trying to get her to see that she meant it. “You should go talk to Mom.”

Lisbeth grinned. “Maybe I will.”

At exactly midnight, Claire met her mother in the hall.

“Ah, thank you for being on time,” her mother whispered. Her face looked drawn.

At first, Claire thought it was just because she was so thin from her time in the cage, but there was something else. She studied her mother out of the corner of her eye.
She’s nervous.
The realization startled Claire. Why would her mother be nervous now?
Is she afraid I’ll screw up, or something?

“So, what’s happening tonight?” Claire murmured.

“I’m not telling you. But it’s nothing to be worried about, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

“Then why are you tense?”

Her mother stopped and stared at Claire. “My goodness,
chérie
, you certainly have come into your own. I had no idea you’d become so observant.”

The compliment glowed in Claire’s chest, but she crossed her arms, waiting.

“Still not telling you.” Her mother pulled open the back door and stepped out into the yard. “Surely you have twenty minutes’ worth of patience in that young soul of yours?”

Claire tried to relax, but the idea of seeing Beatrice made her skin crawl. No matter what her mother said about the laws and traditions of werewolves, Claire still thought Beatrice had done the wrong thing. She hadn’t even listened before she made her decision. She hadn’t cared that Claire might have a better way, or more information. She’d just taken the easy, safe, mother-killing way out of the whole thing.

And now Claire was about to go submit to her. Again. She gritted her teeth and tried to focus on staying close to her mother as they made their way to the clearing.

They ran through the forest together, and the smell of the
growing things, the scents of earth and night filled Claire’s nose. The moon hung full overhead, its belly swelling with light. A tiny shock of excitement shivered under Claire’s skin, pushing aside her bad feelings a bit. This time she would be able to completely change. She would be able to join the hunt. And she would be a full-on member of the pack, able to say what she wanted. The anticipation of it made her toes tingle.

Claire and her mother had loped all the way into the clearing before Claire realized that something was off.
There’s no fire
. She looked at her mother, the question poised on her lips.

“Tonight, we arrive first.” Her mother began dragging dead wood out of the forest and piling it in the center of the clearing with remarkable speed, even for a werewolf. She dropped a third limb on a pile she’d made near the kindling before she looked at Claire and put a hand on her hip. “You could help, you know,” she said.

“Oh, yeah, sorry.” Claire gathered an armful of smaller branches and placed them on top of the kindling, followed by the big logs her mother had piled up. Marie brushed a leaf out of her hair and surveyed the arrangement.

“
Oui. C’est parfait.
Stand back, Claire, and I will light it.”

Claire stepped back to the edge of the clearing and watched as her mother knelt down in front of her, her back to Claire. She was still so thin that her shoulder blades poked out of the back of her shirt, like wings.

Her mother muttered a chant that was too quiet even for
Claire to hear. As the first tendril of smoke rose from the wood, Claire’s mother raised her hands over the logs and circled them three times. On the final circle, the first flame leapt out of the center of the fire, licking at the smaller branches nearby.

Claire rubbed the back of her neck.
Damn. I can’t wait until I can do that.

Her mother stood and brushed the dirt from her knees. She looked at the expression on Claire’s face. “Perhaps, after things are finished here tonight, I could teach you how to create fire?”

Claire nodded, unable to stop the smile that crept across her face. “I’d like that. A lot.”

“Good. Well, then, we are ready for the others.”

JUDITH ARRIVED, FOLLOWED
shortly by Katherine. Judith held Claire’s gaze as she greeted her, and Katherine put a warm hand on her shoulder. Claire couldn’t tell whether it was because she’d saved her mom, or just because she would be able to fully transform. Not that it really mattered—she didn’t care what they thought.

By the time they heard Beatrice and Victoria coming
through the woods, the fire lit the entire clearing with its warm glow. Claire noticed that Victoria’s pants looked tight—her belly was already starting to grow. Claire didn’t look at Beatrice’s face. She couldn’t bear to, not quite yet.

When the remaining pack members had greeted each other and were circled around the fire, Claire glanced into the woods. She could
feel
Zahlia missing. That the pack had not only lost a member but had been so completely betrayed—it made Claire sick. The faces of the others were serious in the light of the fire, and Claire knew she wasn’t the only one thinking this way.

After a moment, Beatrice spoke. “When one of our own dies an honorable death, there are many ways we mourn her. Zahlia did not die in any way befitting a werewolf. In these circumstances, we will rejoin ourselves together, not speaking her name nor remembering her in any way for the rest of our time, so that when we are gone, so too will her imprint upon this world be erased.”

The formality of her words and the flatness of her tone chilled Claire. She looked up, surprised by how different Beatrice sounded now, how confident and strong.

She’s so scared of the human world.
She’s totally confident when we’re in the woods, when it’s werewolf stuff. But anything involving humans freaks her out.

It made sense. When Claire thought back, Beatrice had always seemed in control here, in front of the fire. But whenever something from outside the woods came up, she was no
better than a cornered rabbit. Claire licked her lips. It was so obvious, now. But how could Beatrice run the pack like this? The human world was all around them, rubbing up against them. Frustration crawled through her.

Beatrice stepped closer to the fire and held out her hands. When they were all standing with their fingers clasped tight together, Beatrice bowed her head for a moment.

“This has been a trying time for us—our bonds have been battered, our ties frayed. We must work to rebuild. In the name of the Goddess I form this pack anew. Of one blood, one mind, and one being are we, bonded eternally. Forsaking all other allegiances, we pledge ourselves.”

“By the Goddess,” said the others, in unison.

Claire whispered it a half-beat behind. She really wasn’t sure she wanted to say it at all.

Claire glanced over and saw her mother’s face. A wrinkle had appeared between her eyebrows and she looked thoughtful, serious. Not as certain and celebratory as Victoria and Beatrice, who were both smiling. Not as relieved as Katherine, or Judith. Something about her mother’s expression made Claire feel infinitely better. Her mother knew that things wouldn’t be erased just by saying some stupid vow.

“Now,” Beatrice began. “It has been the greatest honor of my life to lead this pack. But things have changed. Perhaps I have been a wolf for too many years now, but the minds of humans no longer make sense to me. I made an error when
I failed to take into account the more”—she paused, looking hard at Claire—“unique aspects of Marie’s abduction. The world is not what it once was, and I am not too proud nor too foolish to admit that neither am I. I have called down more moons than I care to count, and the time has come for me to stop. Marie, please step forward.”

Claire’s mother raised her head high. Slowly, she walked up to Beatrice and knelt in front of the older woman, her eyes shining. Claire’s heart pulse thrummed in her ears, the emotions crackling through her like lightning.

Beatrice knew she’d been wrong.

And she was trying to fix it.

It seemed pretty obvious to Claire that her mother—the only member of the pack that she really trusted—was about to become their Alpha. And that would make Claire feel a whole hell of a lot better about the pledge she’d just made.

Beatrice reached down and clasped one of Marie’s smooth palms between her roughened hands and pulled her to her feet.