Claire pushed herself up into a sitting position, wincing at the pain in her leg where her thigh had been pressed up against the sharp edge of her nightstand. One thing was for sure. She would never willingly transform indoors again.
Still shaking, she pulled on her clothes and went downstairs to find a cup of that magic calming yoga tea Lisbeth was always drinking. Claire had just pulled the scalding-hot mug out of the microwave when her mother appeared in the doorway, a frown tugging at the corners of her mouth. "It is very late, chérie. Are you all right?"
"I . . . yeah." Claire twisted the hem of her T-shirt between her fingers. "You're up late too."
The corners of Marie's mouth tugged downward, deepening her frown. "Why do you smell of wolf?" She closed her eyes for a long moment "Do not answer that yet. I need a cup of tea first."
When Marie finally had a steaming mug in front of her, she turned to Claire.
"So? Have you been home the whole night?"
"Yes." Claire lifted her chin. She was telling the truth.
"But you have transformed. Recently." It wasn't a question. Marie had the sort of unnatural stillness about her that made Claire nervous. It was like the flatness of the sky before a storm rolled in.
"Yes," Claire said simply. She could feel the heat creeping into her face
"Claire." There was a warning in the word. "What happened?"
Claire half-shrugged. "It was no big deal. I was just . . . experimenting. I wanted to know what it would be like to transform indoors."
Her mother raised an eyebrow. "Why did you not check with me? I was here."
"Yeah, but you were in your darkroom and I didn't want to bug you. I just didn't think it was going to be a big deal."
"And how did you find it?"
"It was miserable," Claire admitted, her eyes glued to the floor.
Marie took a sip of her tea. "I could have told you that it would be, if you had bothered to ask." There was a laugh bubbling up underneath her words.
Claire tried to swallow, but her mouth had gone dry. She felt like she was at her breaking point—that one more thing would shatter her thin layer of control along some invisible fault lines, leaving her in a million shining pieces on the floor. And that couldn't happen. Because underneath that fragile shell, she was angry, and getting angry at her mother would mean being put on an even shorter leash. She didn't want any more orders. Any more wait-until-I-tell-you-what-to-dos. It wasn't like she'd done anything dangerous.
Claire unclenched her teeth. "Right. Of course." She stood up. "I'm pretty tired. . . ."
"Certainly." Marie waved a hand in her direction. "You should go get some sleep. We'll talk more soon."
She offered Claire a tiny smile. "I know that the desire to test your abilities is hard to ignore. But that's why I am here. So that you don't have to learn every lesson the hard way."
"Yeah. Okay. Thanks." Claire stumbled up the stairs, scared and exhausted and stewing all at once. As soon as she tried to do one little thing on her own, her mother took over, playing her Alpha card.
Running Claire's life.
She kicked herself as she crawled into bed. After all, Marie was just being Marie. What had she thought her mother would do? At least she hadn't forced Claire to tell her about her argument with Matthew. That was something her mother hadn't managed to grab away from her.
It was a start. On Sunday, Claire realized that she still needed to make predance dinner plans with Matthew. Talking about the ball actually sounded good. After all, that was the sort of thing that was still normal between her and Matthew. Something completely anchored in her human life. Like holding hands with her in the hallway. Kissing in his car.
"Hello?" he answered, interrupting her thoughts.
"Hey—are you busy?"
"Not really, what's up?" She could hear the quiet sound of the Engles' refrigerator opening. The crack of the metal tab on a soda can.
"Well, I was talking to Emily about the Autumn Ball yes terday, and I sort of forgot to ask you if it might be okay if she and Randy came to dinner with us."
"I don't see any reason why not," Matthew said. "I think everyone wants to go to Salvatore's, so, like, half the school is going to be there anyway. Two more won't make a difference."
Claire fidgeted in her seat. "I, um—actually, I think it'd have to be four more. Emily already promised Amy that they were going together, so . . ."
"Oh, that shouldn't be a problem. Everyone likes Amy."
Claire's chest tightened.
"I'll get Doug to tell KateMarie. She's sort of running the show," Matthew said.
"Really?" Sarcasm dripped from Claire's voice. "KateMarie running the show? There's a change of pace."
Matthew laughed. "True. But at least we have Doug for a buffer. It'll work out."