Read Online Claire De Lune by Christine Johnson - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Christine Johnson
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the wall twitched in the night breeze.
If her mother wasn’t going to teach her anything, then maybe she would just go figure things out for herself. After all, no one had said she shouldn’t do anything, just that they wouldn’t show her how yet. She leaned against the counter, thinking. It sure as hell hadn’t felt like it was the moon that made her change today. When the fur had come, she’d been thinking hard about being a werewolf. That could have been what triggered the change. Maybe her mom wasn’t giving herenough credit. Maybe she could transform on her own, if she had a chance to try.
Well, there’s no time like the present to start.
She just needed somewhere to practice where her mom or Lisbeth wouldn’t walk in on her. Somewhere big, and private.
Somewhere like the woods.
Outside, the humidity pressed against Claire’s face like a wet handkerchief. A film of sweat popped out on the back of her neck. She turned to look up at her house. The windows were all dark.
A warm breath of air tickled her ear and she spun away from it, dropping down into a crouch on pure instinct. The space where Claire had been only a moment before was empty. She blinked at the vacant yard, surprised at how fast she’d moved.
From inside the pool house, she could hear the faint, chirrupy whisper of the ceiling fan. Crap. She’d left it on again. If Lisbeth saw it, she would freak about how much energy Claire had wasted. She hurried over to the little building, and then stopped short. A squeak escaped her mouth before she could stop it.
Oh my God, I could hear that all the way from the back of the house?
She’d known her hearing was better than it had been, but this was crazy.
Realizing she’d made a noise, she looked back up at the house. All the lights were still off.
Claire hurried across the lawn, wondering if her mother was going to realize she was gone—if she was about to come and stop her. The nerves in her fingertips tingled in time with her breathing as she tiptoed through the yard. With every step the smell of the grass being crushed beneath her feet flooded into her nose, carrying with it the sharp scent of chemical fertilizer. When she eased through the opening in the brick wall, the more natural, less uniform odor of the forest washed over her like cool water, and she sighed in relief.
Her nose twitched. She could smell
everything.
The squirrel hiding in the fir tree. The dry dirt and pine needles on the forest floor. And—her mother. She could smell her mother.
Crap.
Claire ducked under the low branches of the evergreen next to her and held her breath. How could she have missed the fact that her mother had followed her? She waited, frozen, her heart thudding against her ribs. The squirrel above her took off through the trees and Claire let out her breath.
When she breathed in again, she realized that the scent was faint and stale.
Oh my God. It’s from last night! I can smell where she walked last night.
She slid out of her hiding place and tried to shake the jumpiness out of her shoulders.
She took a deep breath. If she was going to be stuck like this, she was damn well going to learn to control it.
She focused on the nearly invisible tree trunks in front of her. They shimmered the tiniest bit, like ink on black paper.
Huh. I can see in the dark? That’s … helpful
. She tried to concentrate, to remember the feeling in her hands and ears when she’d changed before.
The thick fur blanketing her hands and ears was so strong in Claire’s mind that it may as well have already been on her. A wave of dizziness swept over her. Unable to keep her balance, she reached out to grab the closest tree, misjudged the distance, and landed hard on her knees with her fist empty and her head spinning. Her gut ached and her lungs burned, like someone had punched her in the stomach.
As quickly as the feeling had come, it passed. She reached out one shaky, fur-blanketed hand and stroked her ear. The silky fur
If her mother wasn’t going to teach her anything, then maybe she would just go figure things out for herself. After all, no one had said she shouldn’t do anything, just that they wouldn’t show her how yet. She leaned against the counter, thinking. It sure as hell hadn’t felt like it was the moon that made her change today. When the fur had come, she’d been thinking hard about being a werewolf. That could have been what triggered the change. Maybe her mom wasn’t giving herenough credit. Maybe she could transform on her own, if she had a chance to try.
Well, there’s no time like the present to start.
She just needed somewhere to practice where her mom or Lisbeth wouldn’t walk in on her. Somewhere big, and private.
Somewhere like the woods.
Outside, the humidity pressed against Claire’s face like a wet handkerchief. A film of sweat popped out on the back of her neck. She turned to look up at her house. The windows were all dark.
A warm breath of air tickled her ear and she spun away from it, dropping down into a crouch on pure instinct. The space where Claire had been only a moment before was empty. She blinked at the vacant yard, surprised at how fast she’d moved.
From inside the pool house, she could hear the faint, chirrupy whisper of the ceiling fan. Crap. She’d left it on again. If Lisbeth saw it, she would freak about how much energy Claire had wasted. She hurried over to the little building, and then stopped short. A squeak escaped her mouth before she could stop it.
Oh my God, I could hear that all the way from the back of the house?
She’d known her hearing was better than it had been, but this was crazy.
Realizing she’d made a noise, she looked back up at the house. All the lights were still off.
Claire hurried across the lawn, wondering if her mother was going to realize she was gone—if she was about to come and stop her. The nerves in her fingertips tingled in time with her breathing as she tiptoed through the yard. With every step the smell of the grass being crushed beneath her feet flooded into her nose, carrying with it the sharp scent of chemical fertilizer. When she eased through the opening in the brick wall, the more natural, less uniform odor of the forest washed over her like cool water, and she sighed in relief.
Her nose twitched. She could smell
everything.
The squirrel hiding in the fir tree. The dry dirt and pine needles on the forest floor. And—her mother. She could smell her mother.
Crap.
Claire ducked under the low branches of the evergreen next to her and held her breath. How could she have missed the fact that her mother had followed her? She waited, frozen, her heart thudding against her ribs. The squirrel above her took off through the trees and Claire let out her breath.
When she breathed in again, she realized that the scent was faint and stale.
Oh my God. It’s from last night! I can smell where she walked last night.
She slid out of her hiding place and tried to shake the jumpiness out of her shoulders.
She took a deep breath. If she was going to be stuck like this, she was damn well going to learn to control it.
She focused on the nearly invisible tree trunks in front of her. They shimmered the tiniest bit, like ink on black paper.
Huh. I can see in the dark? That’s … helpful
. She tried to concentrate, to remember the feeling in her hands and ears when she’d changed before.
The thick fur blanketing her hands and ears was so strong in Claire’s mind that it may as well have already been on her. A wave of dizziness swept over her. Unable to keep her balance, she reached out to grab the closest tree, misjudged the distance, and landed hard on her knees with her fist empty and her head spinning. Her gut ached and her lungs burned, like someone had punched her in the stomach.
As quickly as the feeling had come, it passed. She reached out one shaky, fur-blanketed hand and stroked her ear. The silky fur
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