“Mom, it’s okay,” she mumbled. “We already did all this in Health class.”
Her mother’s eyes flew open wide. “What? How—oh. Oh.” She began to laugh. “No, Claire, that’s … that’s not what I meant.”
Claire drew her knees up into her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs. “What, then?”
Her mother leaned back against one of the big carved posts at the end of the bed and smoothed the collar of her shirt. Claire stared at her mother. A middle-of-the-night, mother-daughter chat was way out of character for her mom. Something was definitely up.
Her mother sighed. “Our family is not like other families. Your history, your lineage—it’s something I want you to be proud of.”
“What, because you’re French?” Claire struggled not to laugh. “I guess we could start celebrating Bastille Day.”
“That’s not what I mean.” Her mother’s voice was sharp. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
Man, it’s easy to push her buttons, Claire thought.
“You come from a long line of proud women. Women who have survived, who have passed down a secret from mother to daughter.” She twisted the sheet around her fingers.
Claire crossed her arms and waited.
Her mother’s eyes darted up to meet Claire’s. “Like me, like your grandmother before me, and her mother before her, you are what we call loup-garou.”
Claire cocked her head to the side. She hated it when her mother slipped back into French.
“A werewolf, chérie. You—we—are werewolves.”
Chapter Three
CLAIRE’S MOUTH FELL open, then snapped shut as she hurtled off the bed and headed for the door. She’s insane, she thought. It’s not true. It can’t be.
Her mother caught her by the arm and whirled her around, her gray eyes sparking.
“Claire, I know this is difficult news. But it is the truth—that is why you have been itching, your hands, your ears. It is the beginning of your transformation.”
Claire sank down onto the carpet, rocked herself into a tight ball, and covered her prickling ears with her hands. “You’re crazy! You’re wrong—there’s no way I’m a werewolf ! I would know—I would have known.” She dug her fingernails into her earlobes so hard that her eyes watered from the pain.
“I wanted to tell you all along, but no one is ever told before her sixteenth birthday. Take a deep breath, Claire, breathe! It’s going to be okay.”
Claire inhaled sharply. “It’s just not true. Werewolves, they kill people and I—I don’t want to hurt anyone.” Her voice rose.
“Sssshh!” Her mother cautioned her. “You mustn’t wake Lisbeth.”
She scooped Claire up, lifting her easily onto the bed. How can she be strong enough to lift me? Claire’s teeth chattered.
“Why not us? It must be someone. Think about it, Claire. Why do you think we have always had an au pair? Someone to care for you when I am not here? Sometimes I am gone for work. But I sometimes leave for other reasons. One truth hides another. I know it’s hard to accept—I know, I remember.”
“But I don’t want to hurt anyone. I don’t want to hurt anyone. I don’t,” Claire whispered, her knees hugged against her chest.
“The television news is not always right, Claire. We prey upon other animals, yes, but so do most men. Killing humans for sport is not allowed.”
“So why does everyone say that werewolves kill people?” Claire challenged.
Her mother’s lips pressed into a thin line. “One of our kind sometimes strays from our laws—the same way men stray from theirs when they kill one another. But it is not our nature. It is not our way. Those loup-garou who kill humans are shunned by the rest of us.”
“I don’t believe any of this. If I, if we were werewolves, you would have told me before now!”
“No, I wouldn’t have. I couldn’t. Children are never allowed to know. They don’t understand the danger involved. They are unable to keep their identity secret. Not revealing the truth until a child begins to change has been our tradition for many generations. Before we began doing it this way, many more of us were caught. And killed.”
Her mother threw open the walk-in closet and strode to the back. “Get dressed,” she said. “Something dark-colored. We’re going out.”
“O-out wh-where?” Claire stammered. She caught the pair of black pants her mother tossed at her.
Her mother turned to face her. “We’re going to the woods. I didn’t believe my mother until I had seen it, either.” Her voice softened. “I will explain everything to you, when the time is right.”