Claire de Lune (Claire de Lune #1)

“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.”