Emily laughed—a short, hard, rough-edged little laugh. But it was a start.
In Claire's book bag, her cell phone started to ring. Claire bent over and dug it out of the front pocket.
"Hello?"
"Claire. I'm glad I reached you." It was her mother, and she sounded distracted. The hair on the back of Claire's neck stood up. Her mother didn't get distracted. "Are you coming home? I need to speak with you. It's important."
Claire's breath caught in her throat. It was something about the pack. It had to be. Her mother never sounded like that about anything else.
"I'm on my way now," she said. "And, um, Emily's with me."
"Well, she'll need to drop you off and go home. I'm sorry, but it can't wait."
"What do you expect me to do?" Claire asked. "We have plans!"
"Change them," her mother said sharply. "I'll see you when you arrive."
There was a click, and the line went dead.
Marie had hung up on her. Claire's anger sharpened her vision, bringing everything into intense focus. The stop sign looked like it was edged in razor blades.
Emily frowned. "What's going on?"
"My mom just canceled our plans is what," Claire fumed. "Like nothing matters except pack—" she caught herself. Right at the edge of the precipice, with nothing but bloodthirsty rocks below.
"Pack?" Emily echoed, her head craned to the left as she searched for a break in the traffic.
Claire's secret sat between them in the car, almost visible.
"Packing." Claire said, scrambling for an explanation. "Packing for a trip. Lisbeth's gone, and Mom doesn't know how to work the dryer. I'm sorry. I have to help her, and it's going to be miserable. Can we reschedule?" Please let her buy it. Please, please, please.
Emily frowned, a faint aura of suspicion hovering around her, like a fog that wouldn't quite clear. "Will it really take that long?"
"You know my mom," Claire said simply, hoping it would be enough.
"Yeah." Emily rolled her eyes. "I do. This sucks! I wanted to look for dresses online."
"I know. We'll go shopping at an actual store though, okay?" Emily grumbled, but Claire felt herself backing away from the neck-smashing ledge she'd been balanced on. Emily knew how strange Marie could be, and for once it was working in Claire's favor.
She leaned her head against the cool glass of the window and wondered if it was even safe for her to be out in public. If she was this bad at being a werewolf, maybe the pack should cut off her ear.
The thought burned, and Claire flinched away from it.
Maybe she'd just work on being a better wolf. When Emily dropped Claire off, Claire found her mother sitting at the kitchen table, tapping her foot impatiently. There was a half-finished cup of tea in front of her and the smell of something amazing coming from the oven.
Claire sniffed. "Chicken?" she asked.
Marie nodded. "Lisbeth put it in before she left. Apparently, something will beep when it's ready to be eaten." She fiddled with the tag on the tea bag. There were circles under her eyes, and the lines on either side of her mouth were deeper than usual—twin, shadowed slashes.
Claire dropped her bag onto the floor and slid onto one of the bar stools at the kitchen island. "So? What's so urgent?"
Marie looked up at her. A muscle in her cheek twitched, a warning to Claire to watch what she said. "You know that Victoria's time is soon—that the baby is coming. Since the gathering will be almost as important for you as it is for Victoria, I wanted to tell you what will happen. And then I want to see exactly where you are with the firelighting. I do not want to be surprised like that again. After dinner, as soon as it is late enough, we will go into the woods together."
Claire clenched her teeth. She hated being micromanaged by her mother. Being ordered around like she was five. With her molars grinding against each other, she managed to nod.
"Good." Marie cleared her throat. "So, when the baby is born, we will have a ceremony to welcome her. It's done for every New One." A smile—warm, genuine, and very brief— crossed her face. "We had one for you, when you were born."
Marie's gaze was far away, seeing a memory instead of the kitchen. "I had no idea what to call you. Since there was a full moon the night after you arrived, we had a double ceremony— your naming and the full moon, combined. I was so tired that I could barely think, but then I saw the moonlight glowing against your brand-new skin. That's when I knew you would be named Claire." She blinked, her eyes clearing, seeing Claire and the kitchen again.
"It means 'light,' your name. It suited you. It still suits you." She lifted the cup of tea and took a sip. "So. We will have the same sort of celebration for Victoria's baby. I've been speaking with Beatrice about it. I didn't remember just how much was involved. It has been many years—yours was the last naming I attended. I'd forgotten much of it." The stress had returned to her mother's face, making her look older. Tired.