“It’s extremely rare. Every once in a really long while, some bizarre circumstances will come up, and we reveal our identities to a human. Maybe we need something from them, or maybe one discovers us accidentally. If they’re willing, they become a secret-keeper, a gardien. I haven’t ever known one, but they do exist. I think your great-great-grandmother or some such belonged to a pack back in France that had a gardien, but you’d have to ask your mother about that.”
Claire crushed a dried leaf to powder in her fingers, thinking. “So, were they, like, friends with her?”
Zahlia shook her head. “That would be extremely unlikely—too risky for everyone. Plus, what would they have in common, really, besides the secret? I mean, a secret-keeper is human. So. Who is it you wish you could tell?”
Claire blinked, startled. “How did you know?”
“Because everyone feels that way at first.”
“Yeah. I guess that makes sense. It just seems like this would all be a lot easier if I could talk to my best friend about it.” Claire shoved down a wave of emotion. It made her chest feel tight.
“You know you can’t, right? It doesn’t work that way. And think, Claire, how burdened this secret makes you feel, in spite of the benefits and abilities that come with it.”
Claire couldn’t stop them any longer—the tears fell.
“Hey, don’t cry. Come on, think about it. Besides the fact that it’s forbidden—that it would be an enormous risk to our pack—would you really want your friend to suffer like you’re suffering? Telling wouldn’t just be dangerous, Claire. It would be hugely selfish.”
Claire’s jaw tightened and her voice was little more than a breath. “I hadn’t thought of it that way.” She rubbed a hand across her weary eyes. “Can we just bag this for tonight? I’m totally exhausted.”
Zahlia stood up and stretched. “Fine by me. I’m actually pretty tired, too. Want me to run home with you?”
Claire shook her head. “Nah, I got it. But thanks for meeting me and talking and everything.”
Zahlia squeezed her shoulder. “I had a good time. You think for yourself, Claire, and I like that. I like it a lot.”
The compliment made a warm spot in Claire’s chest.
“I’ll call you soon.”
Zahlia transformed on the spot, her dark fur blending in with the night around them. Claire picked up the shorts and top Zahlia had worn and handed them to the wolf, who took them in her mouth and waved her tail once in thanks before streaking off into the woods like a shot.
Claire turned and limped home, exhausted in every possible sense of the word.
Chapter Ten
WHEN MATTHEW CALLED the next day and suggested they go mini-golfing, Claire leapt at the chance for a distraction. Matthew seemed a little surprised when she wouldn’t let him pick her up, but agreed to meet her there.
Her mom was going to be gone all afternoon looking at some new camera lenses. Claire just told Lisbeth that she was meeting some friends, and Lisbeth reluctantly agreed to drive her. In spite of the scorching heat, the Putt-Putt parking lot was crowded with families and couples, and Lisbeth was too focused on not hitting anyone to even wave good-bye, much less examine who Claire was meeting. Besides, you couldn’t even see around to the front of the putter shack from the parking lot.
Claire leaned on the handle of her putter and watched as Matthew expertly tapped his ball through the windmill blades. She shaded her eyes with her hand.
“Another hole in one,” she muttered, marking the humidity-softened scorecard with the tiny pencil. “If soccer doesn’t work out, maybe you should go out for the golf team.”
Matthew grinned. “No way. Have you seen the dudes on the golf team? Man, talk about uptight. Anyway, I’m only good at miniature golf. I suck at the real thing.”
“I doubt that.” Claire grinned back. They leaned against the split rail fence that surrounded the course and waited for the family ahead of them to finish the safari-themed hole that came next. Claire stifled a yawn.
“Up late?” Matthew asked.
Claire searched his voice for a hint that there was more to his question than small talk, but there was nothing else there. She forced her shoulders to relax. “Yeah, kind of. I was watching something and just sort of lost track of time.” A true statement, but not incriminating in the least. So far, so good.
“Was it the Late Show?” Matthew asked, wiping the sweat off his forehead.
“Uh, no, it was something on TiVo.” Claire shifted uneasily.
“A movie?”
She could tell he was just making conversation, but she didn’t want to lie any more than absolutely necessary—it was too hard to remember, otherwise. It was easier to change the subject. “What’d I miss on the Late Show?”
“Oh, man, they had the funniest guy on there. He did this whole routine on the difference between guys and their dogs—”
“So what’s the difference? Between the guys and the dogs?” Claire interrupted, eager to feed his enthusiasm for the new topic.
“Okay, so you know how dogs are always using their paws to scratch behind their ears?”
Claire nodded, then winced when Matthew delivered the somewhat questionable punch line.
“Well,” he admitted, “it was probably funnier when the comedian did it.”