A year ago, Claire might have given someone the same look. But not anymore. Now she was always triple-checking her expression and weighing everything she said, making sure that a secret didn't slip out between her teeth while she wasn't paying attention.
Before Claire could recover enough to say anything, Emily came out of the bathroom.
"Okay, kids. I need fries. Now."
Claire scooped up her car keys and looked at Emily. Seeing her best friend standing there obviously trying not to look dejected, her defenses weakened. "Call me tomorrow? Maybe we can go shopping or something next week." Claire's voice sounded small. Emily looked over at her, surprised.
"Sure," she said. "Of course."
"Good." The miserable knot in Claire's middle loosened. Maybe it would be okay if they could hang out, just the two of them, away from the stress of Amy and all her suspicions and curiosity and general interfering.
A mischievous smile spread across Amy's face. "Yeah," she chimed in, wrapping her arm around Emily, "you have to find a dress suitable for Randy Steigerson."
Emily groaned and buried her sea-green-tinted face in her hands as Amy dragged her out of The Cloister, shooting Claire a scrutinizing sort of glance as they went.
Claire sagged as the door swung shut behind them. Amy was right about one thing: Claire's life was definitely complicated. After a quick shower followed by a long session of try-thingson-and-pile-the-rejects-on-the-floor, Claire was mostly ready for Matthew. The doorbell rang before she could decide if her ballet flats were too dressy for a movie night. Whatever. Bare feet are sexy, right?
She looked down at her unpainted toenails. Nail polish looked ridiculous on wolf claws, and after one transformation ending in pink-tipped paws, Claire had abandoned pedicures. Better to have plain human feet and look not-insane in her wolf form.
Claire hurried down the stairs and flung open the front door. "Hey." Matthew grinned at her.
"Hey, back," she said. "Come on in."
Since Lisbeth had left hours ago and Marie was off on a shoot, they had the house to themselves.
Up in Claire's bedroom, Matthew flopped down on the bed, rolling onto his back and tucking his hands behind his head.
"So, did Emily make it home okay from Yolanda's last night?"
Claire sat next to him, leaning back against the headboard. "Yeah. Drunk, but okay. Sorry again that I was late to the party. It turns out that your dad took some Japanese researcher into the woods," she said simply. "I—" She hesitated, embarrassed. "I accidentally left some stuff around that I shouldn't have. I had to go fix it, and it's a good thing I did, because some reporters came and everything."
Matthew's mouth fell open. "I'm so sorry! I knew he'd gotten a last-minute meeting with that other researcher, but I had no idea they were going into the woods, I swear. I would have told you—"
Claire held up a hand. "I know. It's not your fault, Matthew."
"What sort of stuff did you have to clean up?"
"Burned things." The memory of the other night sent a tingle through Claire's middle. "From when I was working on how to light the fire the werewolf way."
His eyes darted around the room. "The Matchless Wonder, huh?"
It sounded like he was joking, but he was uncomfortable. She could smell it—an edgy, hungry sort of smell. Like he thought she was bragging. Or like she'd told him something she should have kept secret.
But he's a gardien, she reminded herself. He's allowed to know this stuff.
"Anyway"—she cleared her throat—"I'd accidentally left the burned-out piles in the woods. I didn't want my mom to find out and be pissed, and I didn't want your dad . . . Well, at least it's fixed now." She fiddled with a loose thread on the edge of one of her pillows. "Maybe when I get it—like, really get it—I can show you."
"Are you supposed to do that?" Doubt swam through his voice.
Claire froze. Her insides had gone all shivery, and not in a good way.
"I mean, you are a secret-keeper," she stammered. "The whole point is that I don't have to hide stuff from you, right? But I guess . . . it is just supposed to be for ceremonies and stuff. Maybe . . . Maybe at a gathering sometime?" Claire said.
"Yeah, sure." Matthew reached out and tucked a strand of Claire's hair behind her ear, a concerned expression on his face.
Claire swallowed hard. He'd seen her in her wolf form before. He'd watched her transform, even. But it had been a long time since he'd witnessed any of that, and all of a sudden, he didn't seem anxious to repeat the experience.
She looked up at Matthew, forcing herself to smile. "Let's just drop it, okay?"