Claire De Lune by Christine Johnson Read Free Book Online

her jaws and keened so high and thin that only the dog—the one she could smell sleeping at the foot of the bed—could hear. The barking was sudden, frantic, afraid. She snuffled withpleasure. Dogs. Smart enough to be scared, stupid enough to lure the humans to their sharp-toothed end.
    She huddled by the back door. When it creaked open, she watched the fool dog streak out into the yard. Watched the human step out after it. And then she sprang. His body held the door open nicely. She stepped around his twisted-necked form and padded inside.
    “Claire? It’s time to wake up—c’mon, sleepyhead.”
    The memory of the night before bubbled to the surface of Claire’s mind, and her heart sank before she’d even opened her eyes.
Welcome to My Life As a Monster, Day One.
She swallowed hard.
    “Are you feeling okay?” Lisbeth frowned. “You look sort of … green.”
    “I’m fine. I just didn’t sleep very well,” Claire lied.
    “You could’ve fooled me, since you slept till noon. Anyway. Your mother—she asked if you would meet her in her darkroom.”
    Claire’s mouth fell open. No one was allowed in Marie’s darkroom. Ever. Not even Claire.
    Lisbeth shrugged. “It surprised me, too.”
    “Yeah, well, thanks for waking me up.” Claire stretched.
    Lisbeth headed over to Claire’s closet. “I’m doing a load of darks—I’m gonna grab your dirty stuff to fill it up.”
    “No!” Claire jumped up, throwing off her sheets. She’d stuffed her smoky clothes underneath a massive pile of shopping bags, but Lisbeth had a nose like a bloodhound.
    Lisbeth put a hand on her hip and stared at Claire. “What? Why?”
    Claire took a deep breath. “I don’t think I have any dark stuff dirty, that’s all. Anyway, I should probably start doing my laundry myself, you know? I mean, I’m sixteen—I don’t need someone else to fold my T-shirts.”
    A little wrinkle of suspicion grew between Lisbeth’s eyebrows. “You’re sure there isn’t maybe something in your laundry you don’t want me to find?”
    Claire swallowed hard. She stalked over to her closet and yanked out the laundry basket. With her heel, she nudged the door shut.
    “You want to go through my pockets? Fine. There’s nothing there, Lisbeth. I can’t believe you don’t trust me.” She was wound so tightly that it made her voice shake. She thrust the basket at Lisbeth.
    “Okay.” Lisbeth held up her hands like a surrendering criminal, leaving Claire holding the laundry. “Sorry. After three years of pulling wadded-up tissues and Diet Coke bottle tops out of your jeans, I’d love a break. It just seemed sort of sudden, that’s all. I’ll be watching the news if you need help.”
    That was too close. As soon as she leaves I’ll find a better spot to—
    Something in Lisbeth’s voice stopped Claire midthought. “The news? Is something going on?”
    Lisbeth looked at Claire, her eyes scared and sad. “Therewas another … attack last night. Three doors down from the Engles’ house. That—that monster killed some guy by his back door and then snuck into the house and killed his wife.” She shook her head. “I don’t for the life of me know why people don’t just stay inside with the doors and windows shut like the City keeps telling us to. Anyway. It’s been on the news nonstop all morning. The police don’t know what to do, and the FHPA just keeps saying that it’s an ‘ongoing investigation,’ whatever
that’s
supposed to mean.
    “When I think how close we were yesterday … we drove
right by it
. I just hope they catch that thing, and soon.”
    Claire watched the door long after Lisbeth had left. How could there have been another attack? Who could have done it?
    It couldn’t have been anyone in the pack. We were all together last night.
Claire yanked a pair of shorts out of her dresser. On her vanity, her cell phone lit up. Claire picked up the phone and looked at the screen. Matthew. Her thumb hovered over the SEND