“Okay, I can take a hint. I’ll change the subject. So, um … anything else exciting happen yesterday?”
An image of the trees flashing past her as she ran through the woods popped into Claire’s mind.
“No, not really.” God, it was starting to feel like there wasn’t anything she could talk to Emily about. It was weird and uncomfortable and it made Claire want to get off the phone. “Listen, I’ve gotta get downstairs for lunch before Lisbeth gets ticked. Call me later?”
“Yeah, sure.” Emily sighed. “I’ll tell you all about my fabulous matching suitcases.”
After they’d hung up, Claire stared at the phone in her hand and let out a long, slow breath. Friends weren’t supposed to lie to each other, but what other choice did she have?
Chapter Eight
CLAIRE STARED AT the ringing phone, chewing the last bite of her toast while Matthew’s number flashed on the screen. Since his soccer practice schedule had picked up and Lisbeth still didn’t want her out after dark, it had been nearly a week since she’d seen him, though they talked almost every day. She swallowed, winced, and answered.
“Hello?”
“Claire, hi!”
“Hey, Matthew, what’s up?”
“Not much, actually. Sore quads and memorizing plays, mostly, since practice is cancelled this afternoon.”
“Really? That’s frustrating, huh?” Hope made Claire fluttery. He had an afternoon off ?
“Not so much, since it gives me some time to see you … except …” He paused.
“Except what?”
“Well, see, here’s the thing—my dad has this rally scheduled this afternoon, and I have to go, but I really want to hang out with you.”
Claire hesitated. She was dying to see Matthew, but at a rally for Dr. Engle?
“Listen, it’s going to suck, but it would suck a lot less if you went with me. I know it’s not exactly dinner and a movie, but—,” he hesitated.
“Well, why not? I’ve never been to a rally before,” she said. And it’s not like anyone will know that I’m a werewolf, right?
“Great. I’ll pick you up at two thirty.”
There were more people than Claire had expected. They’d set up folding chairs and tables with bakery cookies and damp bottles of water that glistened in the sun. Kids ran through the crowd, their T-shirts emblazoned with the outline of a howling wolf, partly hidden behind an enormous red X. Some of the people milling around the tables held signs with the same image, others had posters that said SUPPORT THE NEW P.A.C. The heat had left everyone flushed and sweating, anxious for the rally to begin in earnest.
A beefy man sporting a sweat-stained ball cap clapped Matthew on the shoulder. “Hey! I seen your picture in the paper—you’re Dr. Engle’s son, right? You must be pretty proud of your pops, huh?”
“Uh, yeah,” Matthew stammered, blushing as several people turned to look at him curiously. “He’s been working real hard on all this.”
Claire couldn’t stop the grin that inched across her face while Matthew squirmed under the attention of his father’s admirers.
“Good man, Dr. Engle. We’re lucky to have him.” The man caught sight of someone behind Matthew. “Hey! Jim! You need a hand with the rest of those signs?”
Matthew grabbed Claire’s hand and pulled her to the back of the crowd. “Ugh, it never stops,” he complained. He dropped his voice. “It’s not like he ended world hunger, or anything. He’s only trying to get everyone fired up because he’s worried that Lycanthropy Researchers International is losing interest in the case. And if he doesn’t get into the LRI, he might not get to stay with the Federal Human Protection Agency.”
Huh. So Dr. Engle doesn’t have everyone dazzled, after all.
At the front of the crowd, a stage had been erected. Someone had draped it—crookedly, Claire noted—with red and blue bunting. There was a podium in the center with a microphone poking out of it. Behind the podium Dr. Engle stood, adjusting his hair, his wilting collar, and the microphone in quick succession. He tapped the mike and a stream of feedback squealed out of the speakers. A collective groan rose from the crowd, but they all stopped talking and turned to face the stage.
“I’d like to thank you all for coming out in the heat to support us today.” The sun glinted off his expensive-looking teeth when he talked. “I know you’d all like to get back to the air-conditioning, so I’ll keep this brief. We here in Hanover Falls have been living for too long under the twin shadows of fear and uncertainty. The fine, upstanding citizens of our community do not deserve to have their activities cut short by the arrival of darkness—they do not deserve to have their nights plagued by the apprehension that something might be lurking outside their windows. It’s not fair, and I for one will not stand for it one more second.”