Claire de Lune (Claire de Lune #1)

Claire closed her eyes again. Had she made that happen, somehow? She’d been focusing so hard on Lisbeth, on hearing her. She kept the sound of Lisbeth’s voice fixed in her mind. It felt sort of stupid—but then, it had happened before.

“You know I didn’t mean for things to go like this! But it’s too late. I can’t go back and change—”

Excitement flooded through Claire and her concentration wavered. Lisbeth’s voice was gone again, but she didn’t care. She could hear her.

Immediately, she wondered if it would work on anyone else. She tried to think about Emily the same way she’d been thinking about Lisbeth. She wrapped her arms around her knees and listened hard. Nothing happened. Well, it was the middle of the night—Emily was probably asleep.

“Oh. Shit.” Her voice sounded loud in the quiet forest.

If Claire couldn’t hear someone unless they were actually saying something, then that meant Lisbeth was awake, which put Claire one bed-check away from being in deep trouble. Who on earth was Lisbeth talking to at this hour, anyway?

Oh, God, what if she’s talking to Mom? Okay. This is not the time to panic. All I have to do is change back and then get home. It can’t be that hard to transform. It just can’t.

Claire pressed her fur-covered hands against her eyes. She focused on the memory of the skin, smooth as an egg, that she’d worn every day for sixteen years. She wanted it—wanted to be back to normal. To be human.

The feeling of coming back into her skin was claustrophobic, like wriggling into a dress that was too small. The smell of the deer faded and she couldn’t see as clearly. The trees were just shimmers in the black night. Claire could tell she’d changed back, but panic rose in her chest. She didn’t feel like her usual self. Being in her regular body didn’t feel better than being a wolf. It was just as uncomfortable, only in a different way. Tears welled up in her eyes.

How could anyone adjust to this? Her breath hitched painfully, and her lungs felt slow and thick in her chest. Maybe this was why her mother was always so closed off. Maybe that made it easier.

A tear slipped down Claire’s cheek and she brushed it away. She didn’t have time for this now. Once she’d gotten home without Lisbeth catching her, she’d have all the time in the world to cry.

Claire pulled herself to her feet. Her muscles ached and her stomach was rumbling. As she hurried home, she listened with her human-dulled ears to the tiny pops and cracks of the bracken that crunched beneath her feet. When she squeezed back through the wall onto her own lawn, the ache in her chest eased. The lights were off—Lisbeth must have finished her conversation and gone back to bed. The house was quiet. The ceiling fan still buzzed in the pool house. Claire crept over and turned it off. Surely if Lisbeth had discovered she’d been missing, there would be lights. Noise.

Claire had snuck out and gotten away with it. Relief coursed through her, washing away the sadness she’d felt in the woods. A grin spread across her face.

She slipped into the silent house and walked to the refrigerator. If Lisbeth heard her in the kitchen, who cared? She was allowed to get a midnight snack if she wanted. Claire pulled out the plate of leftover meat, picked a limp slice of steak from the plate, and put it in her mouth. Before she could stop herself, she thought how much better the deer would have tasted.





Chapter Six


THE YAWN WAS jaw popping. Lung cracking. Exhaustion ringed her thoughts like smoke, making everything hazy and indistinct. Morning had come so soon. It had been too much in one night—hunting for food, and then stalking the youngest one, the brand-new wolf. Tracking her while she stumbled through the woods like a human. She’d gone home so proud of herself. Fool enough to think that because the lights were off, she hadn’t been seen. Been caught.

Too young and stupid to think there might be other eyes watching her.

The phone rang six inches from Claire’s ear. She rolled away from it, throwing the covers over her head. Who the hell was calling at—she cracked an eye and checked the alarm clock—9:33 in the morning?

As soon as the voicemail picked up, the phone started ringing again. Emily’s number flashed across the screen.

“Jesus God, Emily, it’s too early. Something had better be wrong.”

There was a loud sniff on the other end of the phone.

“Well, it is. They’re dead-set on sending me away next week, Claire. To the farm.” Emily didn’t so much say the last word as wail it. “Are you up? Can I come over? If I have to look at my mom for one more second right now, I’m going to freak out. I am so pissed off !”

Claire rubbed her hand across her eyes. “Wow. I mean, of course you can come over. I’m sorry, Em, I’m not totally awake yet. That’s really, really crappy, though.”

“You’re the best. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

Claire stretched and rolled out of bed. She wandered downstairs, looking for Lisbeth. A note sat on the counter, pinned underneath a clean coffee mug.





Claire-bear,





Good morning! Don’t forget, I’m at an all-day yoga retreat and