Nocturne (24 page)

She didn't want to go any farther up the stairs—they creaked terribly, and besides, she'd be completely exposed if someone opened the basement door. But the only other way she'd be able to hear—really hear—was if she was in her wolf form.

She bit her lip. She'd be able to change back long before anyone saw her, but she'd sworn she'd never transform inside again. And Matthew's basement, with all the lycanthropy books that reeked of Dr. Engle, was even worse than her bedroom.

She hesitated, trying to decide if she could stand the terror of being trapped inside. But whatever Amy was saying up there, Claire needed to hear it.

Fine. It can't get any worse than it already is, right?

Her decision made, Claire ducked back into the darkest corner of the basement, where she'd have the most time to get back into her human shape if anyone came downstairs. Bracing herself, she transformed. There was a soft thud as her tail hit the wall behind her, and Claire held her breath as the shock of the noise and the oppression of the walls shot through her at the same time. It wasn't quite as bad as she'd feared. She still felt the knife edged panic of being trapped indoors, but it didn't shock her the way it had the first time. She flattened her ears to her head and focused on Matthew's voice. There was a faint smell of him lingering in the basement, and she used it to help her concentrate.

". . . you can tell me. Really." Matthew's voice was reassuring.

Claire held her breath and listened hard for Amy's response.

"But you're involved too, and that makes it so hard." There was a tiny catch in her breath, as if she was crying.

"Just because I'm loyal to Claire doesn't mean you can't talk to me," Matthew said.

"Listen, I think it's great that you're standing by her. Really. That's one thing that's completely different from what happened to the girl I knew in Philadelphia—one reason this is a little bit less awful. It's a terrible secret to keep alone, but it's not exactly something most people want to spread around. I totally get why Claire is always so distant. Why she won't open up to me, no matter how nice I try to be."

The words pricked at Claire, needle-pointed and painful. Amy saw her exactly the way the rest of the world saw Marie. Which was everything she'd never wanted to be.

"That's very . . . understanding of you," Matthew said. He sounded confused.

"So, anyway, on Saturday, I heard the two of you talking at the ball, and I finally put all the pieces together. The way she was too nauseous to go to the party, the cravings Claire was talking about at the mall, the way she was worried about a growth spurt . . . Plus, she was always so tired and stressed, and a couple of times she mentioned something complicated going on with the two of you. But when I heard her talking about the baby, it just all made sense. It was same stuff that happened to Samantha, the girl I knew in Philadelphia who got pregnant. She tried to get rid of the baby on her own, and she nearly died."

Claire's insides froze.
Get rid of the baby?

Amy thought she was
pregnant?
A sick feeling spread through her.

Upstairs, Amy barreled on. "I just got scared that Claire would try something like that, and so, when I saw her on Sunday, I finally said something to her, and she freaked."

There was a brief pause, and Matthew took a huge breath. "Amy, I think there's been a really massive misunderstanding."

"What do you mean?"

Claire closed her eyes, remembering their encounter in the bathroom.

"Amy, Claire's not pregnant." The words were blunt as a hammer.

Claire listened so hard for Amy's response that her ears twitched.

"She's—oh. Oh my God. Are you sure? I mean, you don't think she's just hiding it from you?" "I don't really want to get into the specifics with you, but believe me, there is
no way
that Claire's pregnant." Claire could practically hear him gritting his teeth when he said it.

"Holy crap. Matthew, I told her I wouldn't stand by and watch her try to cover it up. I thought she might try to get rid of the baby on her own or something, and . . . c
rap. W
hat if she thinks I told someone? She'll never forgive me!"

Claire shuddered. Amy didn't know how close to the truth she was—how close Claire had come to killing her. A completely innocent human.

"Please, Matthew. I don't think she'll listen to me after what I said to her yesterday. Will you help me talk to her?"

"Sure." Claire heard Matthew's voice shift as he stood up. "I'm actually going over there in a little while. I'll tell her you want to talk to her, and I'll make sure she'll listen."

"Could I go with you?" Amy asked hopefully. "I'd love to just get this fixed."

"Ah . . . she's, um . . ."
Oh, come on! One good lie! I'm sick, remember?

Claire's nose twitched.

"I think she might not be in the best mood to talk," Matthew said. "Let me try first. I'll make her see that you really just meant to help—that it was all a big mistake—and then I'll have her call you later tonight, okay?"

"That would be fantastic," said Amy. Their footsteps moved toward the front door. "And Matthew? Thanks. I can't tell you how much I appreciate your help. Claire's really lucky to have you, you know?"

"Trust me, I'm the lucky one," Matthew said. The sincerity in his voice made Claire ache. She shrank back against the wall and transformed, pulling on her clothes. She knelt on the carpet, leaning against the paneling with her hands over her eyes. Shaking with the relief of what she didn't have to do. Sick with the thought of what might have happened if she had decided to go through with it. If she'd been obedient to the pack.

The pack, who would demand that she explain why she hadn't killed Amy and why she'd been wrong about Amy knowing in the first place. The idea of telling them what had happened loomed over her, all teeth and claws, and Claire trembled. She heard Matthew coming down the stairs, but she couldn't bring herself to pull her hands away from her face.

Matthew knelt down and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into his chest and tucking her head under his chin.

"I know," he whispered. "I know. But it's okay—everything's going to be fine now. She doesn't know anything."

"Exactly," she gasped, pressing herself against him. "She was going to
die,
Matthew. I was going to kill her, and she doesn't know
anything
."

"No." He leaned back and pulled her hands away from her face, forcing her to look at him. "You were told to kill her. And you decided you couldn't. That's what matters—the fact that you didn't go through with it." "But I was going to," she whispered. "Doesn't that make me . . . I have to be some sort of broken person, to be able to even think about doing that."

"I don't think you're defined by the things you're capable of doing. I think the things you actually do have a hell of a lot more to say about who you are."

There was truth in what he was saying, but Claire still hesitated.

"I love you," he said. "It's going to be okay. You're going to be okay."

"I hope so," she whispered, burying her face in his chest. "I really, really hope so."

Chapter Twenty-Two

CLAIRE LET HERSELF into the house, as worn out and used up as the dead leaves that skittered across the driveway behind her. Marie stood up as soon as she saw Claire. "Oh! You're back. Thank goodness. I expected you hours ago—why didn't you call? Did something go wrong? Amy—you finished it, yes? Is Matthew okay?"

The rush of words was so unlike Marie that Claire knew how truly horrified her mother was by the situation. She hadn't sounded like this when Claire rescued her from Dr. Engle, and she had been her usual collected self even when they were killing Zahlia. But everyone had their limits, and Marie had clearly reached hers.

Claire slid onto one of the stools in front of the kitchen island. "I was just at Matthew's, and he's fine," she said, choosing her words carefully. "He talked to Amy. She came over while I was there."

"Talked to her about what? Did she see you?" Marie's eyes narrowed, and she stared at Claire. Little worried lines appeared at the corners of her eyes.

"No, she didn't see me. He was—" She hesitated. She might be able to play it off as a happy coincidence, act like she was absolutely behind the plan to kill Amy until she realized that Amy didn't know anything.

But she didn't want to. Even if it meant suffering pack consequences. She had too few chances to be honest about who she was—she wasn't going to turn everything into a lie. Hoping that her voice wasn't shaking, she started to explain.

"He was going to find out what she knew—what she was thinking. And then I was going to talk to her. Because when I saw her on the bridge, I couldn't do it. I realized that I couldn't kill her."

"You have to kill her, Claire. I commanded you. It is the
law,
and you are in danger." Marie spread her hands on the granite counter, her fingertips clawing at the smooth surface.

Claire swallowed hard. "First of all, the law says I have to kill her, but it doesn't specify when. It wouldn't be breaking the law to wait, and I wanted to see if there was some way that I could save us both."

"Claire, that's a technicality. No one is kept safe if you put off the inevitable, and living in dread is as bad as living with the consequences—"

"Wait," Claire interrupted.

Marie drew in a sharp breath through her nose, her eyes glittering with the rage of a challenged Alpha. Before she could explode, Claire rushed to explain.

"She doesn't know."

"What?" Marie whispered.

"Amy." Claire put her shaking hands in her lap, hiding them from her mother's view. "She doesn't know. When she said she knew what I was, that her suspicions had been confirmed and she was going to tell, she meant . . ." Claire hesitated, not wanting to get into a conversation about whether or not she'd gone all the way with Matthew. "She thought something else was going on with me, but she was wrong. She told Matthew everything, and I was listening. She wants to be
friends."
The last word came out in a disbelieving squeak.

"How do you know she's not just hiding what she knows?" Marie demanded. "She might not have wanted to reveal things to Matthew—she knows you're dating. What she said before—you seemed so certain. There's still too much risk. . . . in spite of what you heard, you must still kill her."

Anger flared in Claire. She shook her head. "Not if she's innocent. And she doesn't know."

"Claire, you can't—" Claire laid her head on the table, not willing to look her mother in the eye. "She thought I was pregnant. She noticed some weird stuff was going on with me, but she thought it was because I was pregnant. She believes I'm human."

"Oh. And you—oh, my Goddess."

Claire lifted her head and stared at her mother, not caring that she out-ranked Claire in her human life as well as in the werewolf world. "And the thing is, I only know that because I didn't rush to take her life. I made a horrible mistake when I told the pack that she knew my secret. I had misunderstood her in the worst possible way, and I will take responsibility for that. If there are consequences, I will suffer them. But what happened today—the chance I took, that Matthew took, to find another way—that wasn't wrong. It saved Amy. And it saved me, too. I didn't want to end up like Judith." She stared down at the floor. "I
couldn't
end up like Judith. I'd rather be a
seule.
I'd rather be dead."

"Don't say that." Marie's voice was low, warning. "Judith has created a difficult life for herself. But she's no worse off than Katherine, who's doing her best to convince herself that she's really a human. Everyone has to make choices they don't like—do things they don't want to do. They live with it as best they can, and it's better than not living at all."

Claire shook her head. "I don't believe that. I want a better life than either of them, and I think I can find one. I know that the pack laws have been created for good reasons—that they're meant to keep us safe. But twice now I've done what I knew was right, even when the pack told me it was wrong. When I saved you last summer, and now, when I saved Amy."

Claire looked up at her mother. "I don't regret doing those things. You can punish me if you need to, but you can't make me regret it."

Marie ran a hand over her face, looking haggard in a way that she never had before. "I admit that when you have gone against the pack, it has worked in your favor. That your decisions have been sound. But you must work within our laws or you cannot be a member of the pack."

It wasn't an out-and-out threat to make Claire a
seule,
but it was enough to make Claire's stomach go liquid. She couldn't quit now, though. If she backed down, she'd just be sealing her fate.

"I've only ever tried to do what was right," she said.

Marie stared at her, looking deflated. "I know. And, though you have gone about it in a less than ideal way, you have proved that you are able to think through situations." She squared her shoulders. "But you have tried to circumvent both our laws and my commands, which is a direct affront to the entire pack. The consequences you face could be extremely serious. I will not lose control of this pack. Not even to save you." Her expression shadowed. "Not because I wish to sacrifice you." Her voice had gone hoarse. "But some things are bigger than our relationship. I wish you would understand that. It would save both of us a great deal of pain if you understood that."

Claire looked at her mother in silence for a long moment. "I think I do understand that," she said slowly. "That's why I couldn't kill Amy. Even if it meant something terrible for me."

Marie stared back at her. "I see your point, but I am not yet sure that you see mine. Now, go upstairs and go to bed." Marie turned and reached for the phone.

"Are you really sending me to my room?" Claire asked, astonished.

"Yes. You're so exhausted, you look positively gray. Go take a nap. I will call the rest of the pack and tell them what has happened. We will likely meet tonight, and whatever happens, you might as well be rested." Her mother looked like her old self as she barked the order at Claire. And as soon as she heard the words, Claire felt stunned by exhaustion.

In spite of the anxiety swirling inside her, she climbed the stairs and fell into bed. When her mother shook her awake, it was dark in Claire's room.

"Come. We are gathering soon, and you need to get ready," Marie whispered.

The mention of a gathering jolted her awake.

"I'll meet you downstairs," Marie said.

Claire rolled out of bed, yanked a brush through her napsnarled hair, and looked into the dark mirror. She'd told her mother that she was willing to face the pack. That she would accept whatever punishment they decided was appropriate. She'd meant it.

But that didn't mean she wasn't scared. There was a shining sphere of nerves spinning inside her with enough speed to make Claire feel unbalanced. She shook herself and went downstairs to meet her mother.

The two of them traveled the familiar path through the forest in silence. In spite of the fear that stroked her, there was a tiny glimmer of something solid, something good, that nestled inside Claire and kept her going. Whatever was going to happen, it was better than killing Amy. Even if the pack cast her out, made her a
seule,
she'd know that she'd made the right choice.

But the thought of facing the forest alone still made the familiar trees seem forbidding.

The fire was already lit in the clearing. Judith and Katherine sat near it, leaning toward the warmth.

Claire walked steadily into the clearing with her head held high. If she slinked in, hunched over like she was guilty, it would be worse. She'd look weak. Uncertain. And the pack would treat her that way.

Katherine and Judith stared at her as she approached the fire. Katherine had a look of simple relief scrolling across her face like a news ticker, but it was Judith that Claire was worried about. Her expression was complex—she looked conflicted. Happy, but also lonely. And there was a strong odor of regret coming from her side of the fire.

Before Claire could say anything, Beatrice came through the trees, a voluminous black shawl wrapped around her like a cocoon. She looked serious as death, but something unrecognizable glittered in her eyes.

The women greeted each other, and Marie took up her spot by the fire, raising her arms to bring everyone to attention.

"You are all aware of what has happened today. But I wish for Claire to tell us, in her own way, so that everyone understands. So that there is no risk of miscommunication. Then I will discuss the consequences for her actions."

Claire licked her lips, searching for the words to begin, but her mother cut her off.

"We will transform first," she said sharply. "Human words are a limited way to tell your story."

Claire snapped her teeth shut and nodded, vaguely irritated but in no position to argue.

"You may transform," Marie announced.

In a blink, the fire was ringed with wolves.

Wrapped in the comfortable warmth of her fur, Claire stared at the clearing, with its familiar trees and patch of sky. Her gaze traveled over the rough coats of the wolves who had become a sort of family to her. She didn't want to lose this— not yet. Not ever. But if killing Amy was the price she had to pay, it was just too high.

There was a brief rustling in the forest, and Victoria appeared. A stray leaf was caught in her hair, and she clutched Aura in her arms. Claire's heart began to race, thudding against the different but familiar shape of her wolf ribs. Victoria was supposed to be at home.

"I'm sorry," Victoria panted. "I couldn't stay away. I know—I know I'm excused because of the baby, but I had to be here. Wait—" She pulled a blanket out from under her arm and laid Aura on it. Once the baby was settled, Victoria transformed.

Please. I know I wasn't invited. S
he bowed low in front of Marie.
But Claire and I have gotten closer in the last several weeks,
and she's done so much for me. I couldn't—I couldn't not be here.

Claire shivered, feeling feverish. Victoria's presence made the possibility that she was about to become a
seule
all the more real, but having such an obvious ally sitting across the fire made Claire feel better.

Marie flicked her ears in Victoria's direction, motioning for her to get up.
Y
ou are a member of this pack. You are welcome
to be a part of this, though I would encourage you not to exhaust
yourself. You gave birth only a few days ago.

Katherine gazed eagerly at the baby, her paws inching closer. It's
nice to see Aura, though. I hate to think that in just a few months,
she'll be hidden away from us until I'm practically an old woman.

I am fine. Victoria sat right up against the baby and met Marie
and Beatrice's worried faces with a steady gaze.

If you're sure . . . Marie turned to Claire. Begin, please. Her 
mother sat gracefully by the fire, her ears flicking.

Claire closed her eyes for a brief moment, taking in a deep breath of the winter air.

Okay.

As simply as she could, she told the story of going to the bridge to kill Amy. The prickly awfulness of waiting and then the roller-coaster rush that came when she realized she couldn't go through with the pack's plan. She could feel her body twitching and moving, telling the story in its own way. The twitching noses of the rest of the pack told her that they were smelling the truth in her words.

She didn't flinch from it. She laid everything bare, knowing that the only way they'd be able to accept her decision was if they truly understood the way she'd felt and what she'd been thinking.

She told them about going to Matthew's and the conversation she'd had with him, looking for a way around the pack's law and Marie's order—before Amy had come over, before Amy and Matthew had talked and Claire had realized that there was never any reason to kill Amy in the first place.

She came to the end of the story, flinching a little when she realized that she hadn't called Amy yet. Tomorrow morning, she promised herself. She dragged her attention back to the wolves, who were staring at her.

So. That's what happened. I leave it to you to judge my actions. I stand by what I did, but I—I recognize that it was not in line with
the will of the pack. I still think it was right.

She sat down heavily and turned to her mother, trying to look calm. Hoping that no one else could hear the panicked buzzing in her head.

Her entire future waited on the other side of the silence that hung in the clearing.

Marie stood up and faced the group.

Does anyone have anything to add?

Katherine and Beatrice shook their heads, but Victoria stood, being careful not to disturb Aura.

I do. I know that Claire's gone against the Alpha's command, and
I'm not saying that it's not a big deal, but Claire has been an enormous asset to us as a pack and to me specif ically. I want her to be a
part of us—I want Aura to grow up to be part of a pack that includes
Claire Benoit.