Claire de Lune by Christine Johnson

Author:Christine Johnson [Johnson, Christine]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Simon Pulse
Published: 2010-05-24T21:53:29+00:00

Chapter Twelve

THE NEXT FEW days dragged on forever. All Claire could think about was that every passing hour brought her closer to Tuesday night’s full moon.

By the time the sun sank behind the trees on Monday, Claire was pacing her room, wondering why Matthew hadn’t called back, worrying about what the next night would be like. She was so tense that her teeth ached. She had to get into the woods. Maybe if she could run for a while, could practice a little—maybe then she’d feel better about everything.

When everyone else had gone to bed, Claire crept out of the house. Sneaking out wasn’t nearly as scary as it had been before. She knew where every creaky stair was, and just how far she could open the back door before it squeaked. In no time, Claire was in the little clearing she’d started to think of as hers—not nearly as big as where the pack met, but still. It was big enough to practice in. She wished she’d called Zahlia. It would have been nice to have someone to hang out with while she practiced. The scent of the pine needles tickled her nose when she bent to pull off her shoes. It smelled good. Comfortable.

When her socks were draped over a low branch, Claire stretched up and rolled her head from side to side. Her feet had changed so much that when she was in her wolf-form, her shoes didn’t fit. Besides, she could run faster without them—it would be easier to get away if she heard something coming.

And, anyway, we’re the scariest things out here. That’s one good thing about being a werewolf, I guess. You don’t have to be afraid of so much stuff anymore.

Claire thought about Matthew’s dad. The stuff she was frightened of now was a hell of a lot more terrifying, actually. She shook her head to clear it and forced herself to focus.

The change came faster this time. Claire huddled on the ground for a minute, waiting for the adrenaline rush of transforming to pass. Even though she could transform faster, she still looked pretty much the same as she had that first night—mostly human. She swallowed hard, thinking about the next night’s gathering. How much different would she look in twenty-four hours?

When her pulse had finally slowed after the stress of the change, Claire lifted her nose and sniffed. The forest smelled so much better when she was in her wolf-form. More complicated. The edginess she’d felt all afternoon still scratched in her chest, and Claire streaked off into the woods, determined to run it out.

After three sprints to the gathering clearing and back, her ribs were heaving. She lay on the ground underneath one of the pine trees and forced herself to take deep breaths. She felt great—exhausted, but great.

Claire closed her eyes and thought of Matthew.

“No, man, it’s too late. I’ll call her tomorrow. I don’t want her to think I’m a totally inconsiderate ass.”

The voice made her jump. Shaking herself, she realized she must have been listening to him, the same way she’d done with Lisbeth.

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