Claire de Lune (Claire de Lune #1)

“On the phone?”


The dismay in Victoria’s voice sent doubt slithering through Claire’s stomach like an eel.

“Um, yeah. It’s kind of urgent. Is she there?”

“No, she’s not. What on earth is going on?”

Claire’s voice wobbled when she answered. “Mom took off, Victoria. I think she went to look for something in the woods—the seule, I guess—but Dr. Engle put traps out there, and if she’s been caught—” Claire couldn’t finish the sentence. The words were too horrible to say. “We have to look for her. She might need help.”

“Claire, there’s no reason to think anything’s wrong. Your mom probably just wants to catch the seule before Zahlia does. I’m sure she’s fine. Marie is a very capable woman—and she’s an even more capable wolf.”

Claire’s jaw tightened in disbelief. “You think this is just about her wanting to beat Zahlia?”

“Probably. I know you’re too new to know all of this, but your mom and Zahlia aren’t exactly best friends.” Victoria hesitated.

“Okay, so they don’t love each other. Victoria, I really think my mom might be in trouble—”

“Claire,” Victoria said, interrupting her. “Your mother is fine. Trust me. Go watch a movie or something, and try to relax. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Fine.” Claire hung up. If they were going to treat her like that—like she was just some stupid newbie—then maybe she’d go ask someone who thought she was capable of doing something.

She called Zahlia, but it went straight to voicemail.

“Hey, it’s me, Claire. Could you call me as soon as you get this, please? Thanks.”

Claire hung up the phone and stared out at the dark lawn, desperately wishing that there was an easy answer to just one of the questions that spun through her mind.





Chapter Fifteen


LISBETH GOT HOME a few minutes after the first stars glimmered to life.

“Claire?” Lisbeth poked her head into the living room.

“Yeah?”

“I’m gonna put some steaks on the grill. Is your mom home?”

“Um, no, she’s not here.” Claire wriggled her toes, willing herself to hurry up and invent some plausible reason her mother wasn’t back.

“Okay.” Lisbeth’s voice was slow and thick with suspicion. “Well, where is she?”

“She, uh, she called and said she had to fly to Denver right away. Something about a big, last-minute shoot.”

Lisbeth crossed her arms. “Since when does your mother have a client in Denver? She’s never mentioned it.”

Sweat prickled on Claire’s forehead. Be calm, be calm, be calm. She shrugged. “I dunno. You know she doesn’t tell me anything. So, um, since she’s gone, I guess we can go ahead and eat whenever.” Claire tried to brush past Lisbeth.

Lisbeth’s grip on her upper arm startled Claire. “Not so fast. I want to know what’s going on. What’s really going on. You’ve been prowling around here for weeks, sleeping all hours of the day—you never tell me anything anymore. And your mother’s no better. When I mentioned that I was worried about you, she just brushed me off. I know we’re not actually related, but I love you, and I’m worried. Please, Claire, talk to me.”

Claire stared at Lisbeth, remembering all the hours Lisbeth had spent with her—helping with homework, teaching her to knit, listening when she griped about boys and school and her mother. She trusted Lisbeth and she wanted desperately to tell her what was happening. Maybe the two of them could figure out what to do, how to find her mother. The words tickled the tip of her tongue, but she could never actually say them.

“Claire, please.” Lisbeth shook her arm, not bothering to hide her desperation. “You can trust me. I mean, what, do you think I’m the werewolf or something?”

She meant it as a joke, Claire could tell, but the secret shriveled and dried in Claire’s mouth like an autumn leaf. Maybe Lisbeth wasn’t a werewolf, but she was definitely keeping something from Claire. And that meant Lisbeth didn’t totally trust her. So why should Claire confide in her? When she looked back at the woman who had taken care of her for so many years, the lies came pouring out of her as easily as if she’d turned a tap.

“Lisbeth, nothing is going on. Really. Mom took off for a random work thing—just like she always has. It’s not like she’s ever given us a ton of notice, so I don’t see what the big deal is this time. And I talk to you plenty. Just because I don’t tell you every little thing about my social life doesn’t mean I don’t like you or anything. It’s not like you tell me everything about your life.”

Lisbeth blushed and dropped Claire’s arm. Bingo. She knows I’m right about that.

“Okay, I’m sorry. Let’s—let’s just go eat.”