Nocturne (11 page)

The thought pounded through her head like an unending drumbeat of dread, growing louder and louder until it was the only thing she could hear.

Chapter Nine

SHE WAS SO late to school the next day that she went flying into her first-period class, still in her coat, her hair wet and cold against her cheeks. She hadn't seen Matthew or Emily— hadn't even stopped by her locker. Which was just as well, since that meant she still had her chem notes with her. The horror of the night before faded a little with the first bell, and with an uncomfortable thud Claire landed right back in the middle of her human life, complete with the need to pass chemistry.

She flicked through the flash cards under her desk, trying to look like she was paying attention to the history lecture at the same time. Class ended way too soon. Claire shoved the note cards back into her bag and hurried out the door, hoping she'd at least be able to ditch her coat before she had to face the test.

Matthew was waiting for her. He looked nervous and exhausted. Exactly how Claire felt. "Hey, there. Did you—" His eyes scanned her, looking for something. "Wait—have you been to your locker yet?"

Claire shook her head. "I overslept," she said, juggling her coat in her arms.

"Well, if we hurry, you'll have time." Matthew grinned at her.

She narrowed her eyes. Whatever she'd been expecting after he left the gathering, it wasn't this.

"Okay. . ." she said, turning to walk toward her locker. Playing along.

When she opened the door, her confusion rose and swirled until she was dizzy with it. Inside was exactly the sort of thing she'd expected to find yesterday. A gorgeous yellow rose, its ruffled petals filling her locker with a cloying smell. There was a little note wrapped around the stem. Slowly, Claire reached for it, unfurling the paper.

Good luck on your Chem test—not that you need it! You're too brilliant to need luck on this one.

Love,

Matthew

Claire turned to look at Matthew. She knew her disbelief showed on her face, but she didn't really care. He had completely ignored the new moon gathering, which had been massively important, but he was wishing her luck on a stupid chemistry test? Did he really think she cared that much about a school test after the disaster of the night before?

Irritation scratched its way up Claire's insides. He really couldn't deal with the fact that she was a werewolf. And she didn't know what to do about that.

But not now. I can't deal with it now—I'll just have to manage
until after I figure out the fire thing.

Not having her ear mutilated had to be her priority. After the naming, she could sort out her tension with Matthew.

"What's wrong?" he asked. "Your face just went all funny."

"Oh, thanks. That's exactly what every girl wants to hear in the morning," Claire joked. Well, half-joked.

"You know what I meant," he insisted. "Are you okay?"

Swallowing hard, Claire leaned up and gave Matthew a quick kiss.

"Fine. Just tired. Thanks for the flower."

Matthew looked vaguely disappointed, which only made Claire more irritated. And nervous, since the new distance between them wasn't getting any shorter.

"Okay, I've gotta go face Mr. Gould's own special form of torture," she said.

"Huh?" Matthew looked confused.

"My chem test." Claire sighed. "I'll call you later, okay?"

With her eyes trained on the buffed gloss of the tile floor, Claire trudged down the hall. On Wednesday afternoon, Claire and Emily walked out to the parking lot. The clouds overhead were low and gray, promising rain by nightfall. Emily unlocked the car with the key fob, and Claire sighed with jealousy.

"I know, right?" Emily said, tossing her bag into the backseat. "When is your mom going to break down and get you a car?"

"Probably never," Claire grumbled, sliding into the passenger seat. "I'll have to beg you and Matthew for rides until I'm eighty."

"Well, at least she's getting you a dress for the Autumn Ball!" Emily drove toward the edge of the school's grounds, pausing at the stop sign and wiggling her eyebrows at Claire. "And guess what. You'll never guess—I'll just tell you. I'm having an after party the night of the ball—it's going to be
the
after party, actually. It's going to be so much fun." She hesitated, just for a second. "You can come right? I mean, you and Matthew?"

Emily's excitement was contagious, and Claire started to feel the buzz of dresses and tuxes and after parties—all the normal stuff that the human side of her had been missing. "Of course we'll come," Claire said. "How on earth did you get your parents to agree to it?" "It's their anniversary." Emily's eyes glinted wickedly. "They're going to Cabo for a couple of days, and they're leaving me with the house all to myself."

"Aren't you worried about getting caught?"

Emily shook her head. "I'll have days to clean up. And besides, it's the only way to salvage a night with Randy Steigerson."

Emily looked genuinely miserable about her date, but after so many dances when Emily had boyfriends she was crazy over and Claire sat home, Claire figured one less-than-stellar date wouldn't kill Emily.

"So, you really can't get out of that one?" she asked.

"No. First of all, Amy pointed out that he's actually a really nice guy, he's just sort of . . . awkward. But it's not like he's going to corner me in the limo or spike my drink or anything. And besides, it's getting sort of late to find another date, and I'm
not
going stag, and I'm double not missing the first-ever Autumn Ball that you're coming to! So, it's Randy Steigerson and then a kick-ass party."

"I'm . . . I'm glad you figured that out," Claire said, finally. More hurt had leaked into her voice than she'd intended.

"I called you first," Emily said quietly. "About the whole Randy thing. But you were so busy with your chem test and hanging out with your mom . . . and when Amy called to tell me she'd found a date for the ball, we just sort of hashed it out."

Emily was right—she had called, the night of the new moon disaster. And Claire hadn't been able to call her back. How would she have explained a two-in-the-morning phone call without making Emily completely suspicious? And anyway, Amy had certainly leapt right in. It was already hard to have the same sort of relationship with Emily that they'd had before. But Amy was making it freaking impossible. For a moment, Claire was so lonely for her old life—her old friendship with Emily—that her throat closed up with the ache of it. She swallowed hard, trying to pull herself together before Emily noticed that she was on the verge of tears.

"So, who's Amy going to the dance with?" Claire asked. Her voice was almost steady.

"One of Randy's friends, Julio, asked her, mostly 'cause he knew Randy had asked me. Amy doesn't really know him, but it's not a huge deal. She told me that she mainly said yes since the guys want to double. Which is fine with me. At least I'll have one friend around, you know?"

A little puff of air flew out from between Claire's shocked lips.

Emily's eyes widened, and she put one hand up to her mouth, like she was trying to cram the words back in. "Oh my God, Claire, I totally didn't mean that the way it sounded."

Claire struggled to regain her composure. "No—I mean, I know you didn't—"

"I just figured you'd either want to go with just Matthew or that the two of you would end up going with the rest of the soccer guys is all. The whole reason I'm going with Randy is so that I can be at the dance with you." Emily looked so upset that Claire felt her own throat start to tighten.

She put a hand on Emily's arm. "Stop freaking out. Amy's your friend too, and I'm glad you're doubling with her. Besides, I'm guessing that I'll be stuck having dinner with Kate-Marie and Doug, and you
know
that's not going to be any fun."

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.

"Is it . . . is it bad?" Claire asked. She was worried about the expression on her mother's face. "You look sort of freaked out."

"No—not at all." Marie looked startled. "A naming is one of the most joyous ceremonies we have. It's a celebration, and when Victoria gives the baby her name—if she has picked the right name—some truly remarkable things will happen. If it is the right name. But then, I said that already, didn't I?" She sagged a little in her chair, pulling the tea mug right to the edge of the table. "It is just coming so soon after your new moon gathering. I had"—she cleared her throat—"I had underestimated the amount of effort these sorts of unusual gatherings would require. There are particular sorts of wood to be gathered, a preparation of herbs that I have to make for Victoria to drink, and it will be nearly impossible to find them in the wild with winter so close."

Her mother shut her eyes. "And, of course, I am worried about you. I'm fond of your ears." She paled, and the tea trembled in her cup as her hands shook. "I can't stand the thought of you being hurt. There is just—it is a great deal to handle at one time. And I am still new as an Alpha."

She gave Claire a wan smile. "I suppose we are both having—what is it called? A trial by fire?"

So that's why her mom had seemed so stressed lately. It made sense, and Claire was surprised she hadn't realized it sooner.
Being
a werewolf was so hard—trying to juggle the different sides of her life, to meet the demands of each without showing any strain. Claire understood why werewolves chose one side or another to favor. Judith's human life was just a thin veneer for her wolf self, with no more depth than a Halloween mask, and Katherine did the bare minimum required of her as werewolf, making the life she had to keep secret as small as possible, so it would be easier to hide.