“When the time is right?” Claire squeaked, the edges of her vision growing fuzzy. “You’re telling me we’re going into the woods so that I can turn into a wolf, but it’s not the right time to talk about it?”
“Not tonight. It takes three moon cycles for a New One to transform fully. I, though—I must transform. Do not be frightened, Claire. Nothing tonight will hurt you, I promise. You need to trust me now, and do exactly as I say.” She pressed an old shirt into Claire’s hands. “We must hurry. It will look bad if we are late.”
Claire pulled on the shirt and crept down the hall behind her mother. She wasn’t sure what scared her more—the idea that her mother had lost her mind or the possibility that she was telling Claire the truth.
They went out the side door, sliding into the empty night. Her mother moved so quickly through the shadows that it was all Claire could do to keep up. A painful stitch knotted her side. God, I’ve never seen anyone move this fast.
When her mother came to a sudden stop, Claire nearly collided with her. In front of them was an ivy-covered patch in the wall that separated their land from the forest.
“Here is the entrance,” Marie whispered. She nodded toward the top of the wall. “That chipped brick up there—it marks the spot.” She knelt down and pulled aside the ivy, revealing a large hole in the bricks. She eased herself through the hidden opening.
The woods were inky black, and Claire stopped just inside the brick wall, unable to see anything. She felt totally numb—no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t make herself move forward into the darkness.
I wonder if I’m going into shock.
“I can’t see anything. Maybe I should go back.”
“Your eyes will change soon enough,” said her mother. She gripped Claire’s hand and began to pull her along through the trees.
Twigs and leaves crunched under Claire’s feet as they rushed through the woods. Something crashed through the underbrush on Claire’s right, and her mother yanked her behind a tree, pulling her down onto the mossy forest floor.
Claire crouched behind the tree. Her mother made a warning noise, a low rumble that echoed deep in her throat. She sounded like an animal.
“What was that?” Claire whispered.
Her mother sighed. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “Perhaps it was one of the others.”
The others? Before Claire could force the question out of her mouth, Marie jerked her to her feet and took off through the forest, her hand an iron band around Claire’s wrist. Far ahead, in the deepest part of the woods, a dull orange light flickered. Claire blinked hard, trying to see through the thick branches while she ran. Her lungs burned as she gasped for air. They drew closer to the light, which waved and flickered. It’s a fire, Claire realized. Her skin crawled when she saw the five figures surrounding it, their shadows coal-black in the fire’s glow.
Five of them. Oh, God. She yanked her hand out of her mother’s grip, shocked and sickened by her own sudden strength. Her mom grunted in surprise.
“There—there are six of you? Here, in Hanover Falls?” Claire stammered. She shivered hard in spite of the heat.
Her mother caught Claire’s face between her palms. “Seven, chérie. There are seven of us. Come. I will introduce you.”
Claire slunk into the circle behind her mother. The five sharp-eyed women seated around the fire stared at her. Marie pulled her forward, into the bright, hot light of the fire.
“This is Claire,” she said. Marie turned to the old woman sitting on the ground near Claire. “Beatrice, I greet you.”
The old woman smiled, her face cracking into a web of wrinkles beneath her cloud of frizzy gray hair. “Marie, I greet you,” she replied. Her bright eyes raked over Claire. “Happy Birthday, little Claire,” she added.
Claire stared at her, dazed. It was too much to take in all at once. She still hadn’t seen anything that proved that her mother was telling the truth, that they really were werewolves—but the possibility made her legs wobble underneath her.
Claire felt her mother’s elbow dig into her side. “Um, thanks,” she said to Beatrice, who sat with a patient smile on her face.
How did she know it was my birthday? Marie’s elbow stayed planted in Claire’s ribs. “I, uh, I greet you, too, Beatrice.”
The old woman clapped her hands delightedly. Claire’s mom turned to a much younger woman, sitting with her arm around Beatrice.
“Victoria is the daughter of Beatrice,” she said to Claire. “Victoria, I greet you.”
Victoria smiled, tossing her straw-colored hair over one shoulder. “Marie, I greet you. Claire, I greet you, too.”
Without thinking about it, Claire smiled back, calmed by how bright and normal Victoria seemed. “I—I greet you,” she said.
“Say her name,” hissed her mother.
Claire winced. “I greet you, too, Victoria. Sorry.”
“S’okay,” Victoria said. “It’s a lot to learn all at once. You’ll catch on.”
Claire’s mom pulled her around to face the next woman in the circle. She was pale and thin, with coarse, iron-black hair.