Nocturne (10 page)

"Here I am." Victoria bumbled out of the woods, her belly even larger than it had been the last time Claire saw her. "Marie, I greet you," she huffed.

"And I greet you, Victoria." Marie bit back a smile.

Claire greeted her, trying not to stare at her swollen middle.

Victoria hugged her. "Do not ask me about the baby," she whispered into Claire's ear.

"I wasn't going to. I'm too nervous," Claire whispered back.

"Good. But don't be. Now let me sit down." Victoria lowered herself awkwardly onto the ground.

Beatrice dragged Claire over to one side of the clearing while Marie and Victoria talked about the baby.

"I want to give you something," she said quietly, reaching into her pocket. She pulled out a square of cloth, unfolding it carefully. In the middle was a necklace. A perfect black circle of onyx with a tiny diamond set in its center hung from a delicate silver chain.

Claire's mouth dropped open. It was gorgeous.

"My mother gave it to me at my new moon gathering. To remind me that my power was there even when I couldn't see it." Beatrice pointed a twisted finger at the sky. "Just like the moon. That's why we do the gathering during the new moon, you know." "I—I didn't know," Claire stammered. She felt her cheeks flushing with heat despite the kiss of the cold air. "I can't take that, Beatrice—I mean, it's beautiful. And it's so nice of you, but it's too much. And shouldn't Victoria—"

"Nonsense." Beatrice pressed the necklace into Claire's hand. "I gave Victoria a gift for her new moon gathering, but now I'm giving this to you. I'd love to see you wear it. And when you succeed tonight, it'll make me feel like I had a little part in it."

Claire closed her fingers around the pendant and threw her arms around Beatrice. "Thank you. I love it."

"Good." Beatrice squeezed her tight.

"Claire?" Her mother called. "The others are here."

Claire reached up and fastened the delicate chain around her neck before she turned to greet Judith and Katherine. Judith was eyeing her as though she were a piece of fruit that wasn't quite ripe, but Katherine was smiling at her in an encouraging way. Like she was a puppy at a dog show. Claire swallowed hard and made herself greet them confidently. Still, the reminder that not everyone believed in her the way Beatrice did sent a shiver of doubt through her, like a crack in a pane of glass.

Before she was forced to start making small talk, Claire heard something crashing through the underbrush. The flicker of a flashlight beam splintered the darkness of the woods, and the breeze brought Matthew's scent into the clearing. The other wolves stiffened, and Claire felt herself tense along with them. She'd never understood their hesitation before—had never gotten why a g
ardien
would cause that sort of reaction.

But she could see it on their faces. It didn't matter that he'd been invited. It didn't matter that he knew their secret, that he kept it willingly.

He was human. And anything human in the woods was dangerous to them.

Matthew finally broke through the edge of the trees, his eyes going straight to Marie. "I'm not late, am I?" he asked. Worry shimmered across his face.

Marie stepped forward, wrapping an arm around him and pulling him into the middle of the clearing.

"Not at all. We were just getting ready to begin."

Marie steered him over to the edge of the circle and sat him next to Victoria and Beatrice. Judith and Katherine arranged themselves across from the trio, putting as much space between Matthew and themselves as they could. Claire ended up between Matthew and Judith. Her mother stood across from her, staring over the pile of wood. Matthew shrank into himself, barely even glancing at the other wolves. It was so obvious that he didn't want to be there. There might as well have been a neon sign buzzing over his head saying DESPERATE TO LEAVE.

Claire bit down on the inside of her cheek and forced herself not to stare at him. Marie raised her arms over her head, and the group fell silent. She lowered her arms and stood in the darkness. With her shoulders square and her chin high, she began to speak.

"Welcome, all of you. Tonight we gather to witness the abilities of our newly transformed wolf. We will support her, but we will not assist her." She looked deeply, unflinchingly into Claire's eyes—a show of her status. Claire tore her gaze away, focusing instead on the waiting pyre.

She took a step back and motioned Claire closer to the pile of branches. "The first step in our ceremonies is the lighting of the fire. It connects us—spiritually and viscerally—to our ancestresses, and through them to the Goddess herself. The fire that comes from us, through our will, shows all who watch that we are part of the unbroken chain of werewolves that travels back to a time before memory. Their power gives us power—and the fire is the symbol of that strength."

Even in the darkness, Marie's eyes were luminous as she turned to Claire—like the spark of fire inside her shone so brightly that it was visible.

"Claire, you may begin."

Claire opened her mouth to say thanks, but the words caught in her throat.

She knelt, the ground cold and unforgiving beneath her knees. The stack of firewood was much larger than anything she'd lit before. It loomed in front of her, as if the ghosts of a thousand werewolves were staring down at her from the top.

Maybe I should have practiced on bigger branches.

Trying to stay calm, Claire picked two small twigs near the bottom of the pile, whose tips just touched. She took a deep breath, which was a huge mistake.

The smells in the clearing intensified in a blink-short moment. Support and excitement and doubt and nerves swirled together, choking Claire.

She could smell Matthew sitting across the clearing. His own scent, the maleness of it, strange in the protected clearing. It tugged at her attention, making it hard to concentrate.

"Claire?" Her mother prompted.

"Sorry." Claire turned her attention back to the twigs, focusing hard on the point where they came together. Seeing the molecules getting hot. She tried to give herself over and feel the same pulling sensation she'd had the night she practiced with Victoria.

Nothing happened.

She closed her eyes, trying to block out everything except the twigs. Matthew shifted, and the sound of his jeans scraping against the ground, the catch in his breath, drowned out Claire's own thoughts. She turned away from him and tried again.

She shook her head, her heart pounding harder with each second that passed.

She tried again, willing the flames to come. Behind her,she heard Judith clear her throat impatiently. After several painful minutes, Claire looked up at her mother's shocked face.

"Can I transform? I think . . . maybe I can do it in my wolf form."

Marie shook her head slowly. Her eyes were wide. Horrified. "You must be able to do it in your human form. That is how the ceremonies begin. You—you cannot do this?" she whispered.

Claire slumped miserably in front of the branches.

"I've made smoke," she said. "I'm just . . . I'm nervous. Sorry."

"You'll get it," Katherine said in a too-chipper voice.

Marie shot her a silencing look. "All wolves can do this. All wolves have to be able to do this." Her voice was filled with an embarrassed rage that made Claire want to sink into the ground.

"Marie," Victoria said carefully, "she's trying. None of us are perfect, at the beginning."

Having someone speak up for her made Claire feel a tiny bit better.

But not much. Her cheeks still burned with shame.

"This is not about perfection." Marie was practically shaking. "This about doing the basic things we can all do. Victoria, I want you to take Matthew home, now." She turned to Matthew. "I am sorry. As you can see, we have some unexpected pack business to attend to. Victoria will make sure you get home safely."

Victoria made a disappointed noise. "If there is pack business, I want to be part of it."

"Matthew needs an escort, and I have selected you." Marie's voice was crackling with barely contained emotion. "I am your Alpha, and I am telling you to take him."

Victoria struggled to her feet, anger glowing in her cheeks. "Come on, Matthew. We've got to go."

Matthew stood up, looking like he wanted to say something but also like he wanted to bolt out of the clearing. He shot Claire an apologetic glance that made Claire's insides shrivel into dust. She had never been so embarrassed in her whole life.

"I'll see you," he said awkwardly, turning to follow Victoria.

"This way," Victoria said, steering him into the woods.

Claire and the rest of the pack watched them go. She was never going to get over this. She'd humiliated herself in front of Matthew and the pack. Leading the hunt was a lost dream.

When their footsteps faded, Marie turned to Claire. "Why did you not tell me you were struggling?"

"But I thought I could do it! I made the smoke before, and maybe sort of lit it another time. I just . . . It was hard to focus," Claire protested.

Marie looked over at Beatrice. Claire's mother had a look of uncertainty on her face, a hesitation that Claire wasn't used to seeing there.

"Is there any way around this?" she asked. "The consequences are so serious . . ." Marie's voice faltered. Beatrice frowned, the wrinkles in her forehead deepening. "She must be able to do it." She looked sympathetically at Claire.

"I know." Marie closed her eyes, thinking, and then turned back to Claire. "The best I can do without violating out laws is to give you a bit more time. The naming of Victoria's baby will take place the night after she is born. Smoke is not good enough—nor, unfortunately, is your word. You will have until then to master this skill and perform it without error, or I will be unable to keep you from suffering the repercussions."

Claire's mouth went dry. "What happens if I can't do it? If I fail?" The words came out in a croak.

"You are not to fail." Marie pressed her lips together. They were white as snow.

"But what happens if I do?" Claire dug her fingernails into the dirt, steadying herself.

"Then you would be considered an incomplete wolf, unable to do the things that are part of a werewolf 's nature. And we would have to"—Marie looked as though she were gagging on the words—"mark you as one."

The panic that swept through Claire was so cold that it numbed her and burned her at the same time.

"Mark me how?" Claire's voice was barely louder than a breath.

Judith leaned forward, her eyes bone hard and blood dark. "The top of your left ear. We cut it off. That way, any pack— any wolf—who sees you knows immediately that they're looking at a werewolf without the right skills. A mongrel who can't be allowed to help make decisions or participate in the pack the way a normal wolf can."

The edges of Claire's vision went fuzzy, and her hand automatically went to her left ear, covering it. Protecting it. The twisted expressions on Katherine's and Beatrice's faces made it clear that this wasn't some sort of nice, neat operation that would involve anesthesia and pain meds—that it would be as vicious and brutal as Claire could imagine.

"But—but you wouldn't have to. I mean, couldn't you . . . ," she stammered, still holding the side of her head. Not believing that they'd really go through with it. Not her own mother. Not her own pack.

Judith's voice was smooth and rigid as steel. "It's part of our laws, Claire. Enforcing them is your mother's responsibility. If she doesn't do it, the pack will. I will. If another pack—even a
seule
—found out that we'd broken the laws just to protect an Alpha's daughter, they'd have no respect for us. We'd be targeted. Possibly even attacked. Our territory, these woods, would be considered up for grabs." She hesitated, regret fluttering across her face. "I wouldn't do it because I want to hurt you, but because there are so many threats to our pack, and they don't all come from the human world. Making exceptions weakens us."

Marie interrupted her, the crease between her eyebrows and the lines on the sides of her mouth deepening as she spoke. "Judith is right. As much as I wish things were different, everything she has said is true." She took a step closer to Claire, lowering her voice. "All you have to do is light the fire, and you will be a Beta wolf, like the rest. Whole. Able to hunt, able to advance in the pack, someday." Marie blinked rapidly, and Claire realized that she was actually crying.

Oh, holy . . . they're going to cut off my ear. If I can't do it,
they'll actually cut off my freaking
ear.

Claire felt herself sway.

"What about the rest of the ceremony?" she managed to ask.

"You don't look like you're in any condition to continue," Marie said, her face smoothing as she gained control of herself, "and since we're postponing the fire lighting, I don't see why we can't do the rest later as well."

"I think that's a good idea," Beatrice offered, her kind voice wrapping around Claire like a bandage.

"Then you may go," Marie said, dismissing the other wolves with a wave. "We will not gather again until the next full moon. Unless, of course, Victoria has the baby sooner than I anticipate."

Claire shuddered. There was no way to know how long she had. She was going to have to master the fire lighting, no matter what. No more late-night phone calls with Emily. No more parties or soccer matches getting in the way. Not when the consequences for failing were so severe.

Leaving the other wolves behind, Claire and her mother walked back through the forest together, headed home.

"I am not planning to harp on tonight's failures," her mother said quietly.

Claire waited, her feet moving mechanically along the path.

"But do not
ever
keep a secret like that from me again. If I had known you were struggling, I might have been able to do something to help you. But now that the pack knows, now that it has been set in motion, my hands are tied."

Claire gritted her teeth.

She means that Judith is tying her hands—and taking my ear, if I
can't light the fire.