“Claire. Claire! Wake up.”
The fingers that pinched her cheek were gentle, but Claire slapped the hand away from her face without thinking. Beatrice’s eyes glowed with concern.
“Sorry,” said Claire, instinctively ducking her head low. The old woman sniffed and turned away. Claire had been forgiven, this time. “So, what are we going to do?”
“You must go home, and you must wait.” Beatrice lowered herself back into her chair and picked up her knitting needles. “Once we have a better idea of what Dr. Engle plans to do, the pack will meet to discuss our next move.”
Claire scrambled to her feet. Her still-weak knees wobbled, and she grabbed the back of the couch for support. It was only the hot anger, shooting up her spine like a lightning bolt that kept her vertical. “They—they have my mother.” Claire’s voice faltered. She forced herself to look at the face of the familiar, beautiful wolf on the TV screen. Her mother paced in the tiny cage where they held her, her ears laid flat against her head.
Claire looked at Beatrice in disbelief. “They have my mother! Everyone already knows what they’re planning to do to her—they’ll give her their freaking ‘cure’ at the full moon! The longer we wait, the less chance we have of getting her out. Waiting will kill her.”
Beatrice didn’t look up. “Time spent planning is not wasted. And also, we are not certain what effect Dr. Engle’s experiments have upon a true werewolf. Even if we are unable to rescue her—which is likely, given the sort of security Dr. Engle is using—it’s still possible your mother may survive his treatment. We must take the time to explore all of our options.” She took a deep breath and met Claire’s gaze. Tears glittered in the corners of her eyes. “Please know that this is not a decision I have made lightly, Young One. The safety of our pack comes before everything else. If it means the sacrifice of one, then we must accept it even though it hurts. I will not risk everyone’s future for your mother’s sake,” she said, stroking the blanket she was making. “And your mother would do the same thing, would make the same decision, if she were in my shoes.”
Claire looked over at Victoria, hoping she would speak up, would change Beatrice’s mind. Victoria leaned against the wall. Her shoulders were hunched, every muscle in her body leaning toward her middle, protecting the tiny baby that grew there.
They’re scared. They’re scared for the baby and so they’re going to let Dr. Engle destroy my mother.
“It’s not the pack you care about at all, is it?” she spat. “You’re scared for yourselves and you’re just going to let them have my mother because of it.” Claire stared hard at Victoria. “What would you do if it was Beatrice—your own mother—that they’d captured?”
“I know how hard this is for you, Claire. Marie is like a sister to me.” Victoria’s voice broke. “But just because your mother did something she knew wasn’t safe, that doesn’t mean she’d want the rest of us to endanger ourselves. I’m sure of that.”
A growl caught in Claire’s throat at Victoria’s words. How dare she hint that Marie had acted irresponsibly? “My mother was trying to save us, all of us, and she risked her own life to do it. If you’re too weak”—she spat the word—“to help me, I’ll go find help somewhere else. I’m sure Zahlia will do it.”
Beatrice’s left eye twitched when Claire mentioned the dark wolf, and Claire knew she’d hit a nerve.
“Zahlia may be brave, but she is also loyal to the pack,” Beatrice said gently. “Even if you will not obey me, I would think twice before asking her for help.”
Manipulative bitch. Claire spun and headed for the front door. “I’m not interested in taking lessons in loyalty from someone who obviously knows nothing about it.”
Claire slammed the door hard enough to make the hinges ring and slung herself onto her bike. The helmet she left lying in the grass like an upended turtle. She was protected by the speed and strength that had pumped through her on her way through town, and the heightened senses that meant she could hear cars coming long before she could see them, could smell the people on the sidewalk before they ambled out in front of her. Helmets were for humans. Claire was loup-garou.
Chapter Sixteen
THE lOOK LISBETH gave Claire when she stormed into the kitchen was pure worry. “Where on earth have you been? Have you lost your mind, riding around in this weather? There’s a heat advisory out, for God’s sake. And you’re purple. Did you even think to take any water with you?” Lisbeth didn’t wait for her to answer. She thrust an enormous glass at Claire. “You sit down right this minute and drink this. What if you’d gotten heat stroke? Your mother would never forgive me, Claire!”