by Bree Despain
“Mind-meldy?” Gabriel asked. It sounded extra ridiculous with his weird mixture of a European and American accent.
“Oh yeah. I forgot you don’t watch movies.”
“You would think in all these centuries I would find the time.”
“So what’s your anchor?” I asked. I’d never thought of Gabriel as necessarily my friend—but he knew so much about me now, I figured I deserved to ask him a few personal questions. “Eight hundred years is a long time to go without losing your grip.”
“I never said I do not lose my grip sometimes. Quite the opposite.” A dark look passed over his eyes, and I knew asking about those times would be too personal. Then again, I already knew what had happened to his sister, Katharine. She’d died by his hands—teeth—shortly after he’d fallen to the werewolf curse. “But I always find my way back because of her.” Gabriel opened the sketchbook that sat in front of him. A drawing of a woman’s face decorated the page. She was beautiful, with light-colored hair and delicate features, drawn with so much care that they could only have been done by a true artistic master—a master who obviously loved his subject.
“Did you draw this?”
“Yes.” Gabriel tapped the pencil next to the book. “Drawing is one of the things I do when I am agitated. Not quite as effective as tai chi, but people stare at you less for doing it in public.”
“This is beautiful.” I’d thought of Gabriel so much as a monk and a werewolf, and even a high school religion teacher, that I had all but forgotten that he was an artist. He had been one of the sculptors who’d created the gorgeous statues in the Garden of Angels. “May I?” I reached for the sketchbook, eager to see more of his work.
Gabriel nodded and pushed the book toward me. He didn’t make a sound as I flipped through the pages. Every sketch was of the face of this same woman. There was something beyond her beauty, something in her eyes. Like she was in great pain but trying not show it. A weak smile curved her lips, like she was trying to be brave, despite her fears.
“Who is she? Your sister?”
“My wife.”
I glanced up at him. The bruises on his face still looked tender, but they didn’t seem as painful as the look in his eyes—like a reflection of what the woman in the drawings felt.
“You never mentioned that you have a wife.”
“Her name was Marie.” He pronounced it Mah-ree with his strange accent. “She died in childbirth hundreds of years ago. Before I became a monk. Before the Crusades. Before I was cursed.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, even though it couldn’t make any difference.
“She made me promise before she died that I would someday come find her in heaven. That is why I became a monk. I thought if I lived a life devoted to God, I would be pure enough to keep my promise to her. Obviously, my plan did not work out that way. I feared all was lost when I fell to the werewolf curse. I forsook my promise to Marie for quite some time. You know some of the things I did.…”
I nodded, thinking once again of his sister, Katharine.
“Yet it was Marie who brought me back, by showing that she has not given up on me.”
“How?”
“The Babylonian priestess—the woman who gave me the moonstones—did not find me by coincidence. She told me that Marie’s spirit had spoken to her and told her what I needed. She said that Marie was still waiting for me to join her in heaven. That she would never stop waiting for me.”
I gasped.
“Those moonstones changed my life. I devoted myself to a path of strict nonviolence, and I have been trying to atone for all of my terrible misdeeds ever since.”
I felt a pang of guilt for not sharing the moonstone I had with him yet. It wouldn’t have even existed if it weren’t for him. “But you fought at the warehouse even though you said you never would again?”
“As I told you before, you inspired me.” He pulled the sketchbook back in front of him. His fingers lightly brushed over the drawing of his Marie. “You know, it was not until Daniel told me about what you did for him that I truly believed that it is possible for someone like me to be cured. The idea of you gave me hope that I might be able to fulfill my promise to Marie. Yet after so many centuries of doubting I could truly make it back to her, I was afraid to let that hope take root inside of me. That is why I came here, to see you for myself. Alas, I was so afraid to lose you before I figured you out, that I thought you needed to be coddled and protected. Which in the end turned out to be the wrong thing to keep you safe. I am just grateful that you were able to show me that there are some things worth fighting for.”
“Or I’m just really stupid for running into danger all the time.”
Gabriel chuckled a bit. “Yes, that, too. However, you are right about many things. A long time ago, I thought I could help the Urbat reclaim their blessings. I had lost hope that was truly possible, until you came along. Do you want to know something interesting that you and the priestess have in common?”
I cocked my head. “What?”
“Violet eyes. I remember that now. She had eyes just like yours.”
“Really?” Violet eyes are extremely uncommon. My mom once told me that when my baby blue eyes had developed into violet, Grandpa Kramer had tried to convince her to change my name to Liz—after his favorite actress, Elizabeth Taylor, who was famous for her supposedly violet eyes. But Jude was the only other person I really knew of with eyes like mine.
“There’s an old Egyptian legend about people with violet eyes. They call them ‘spirit people.’ The priestess I knew could commune with the dead. Fulfill their requests. Maybe that is why your connection to Daniel is so strong—how you know what he needs.”
My mouth went dry. “Are you saying Daniel is dead?”
“No, no.” Gabriel patted my hand. “I am saying you have a close spiritual connection to the world. I think you are special in many ways you are just now beginning to understand. If you can tap into that, you have the potential to become a great leader and healer—the Divine One we all want you to be. However, you will never get there unless you can let go of your anger. Otherwise, it will corrupt you just like the rest of us.”
Gabriel’s words rang true, even though I didn’t know what to do with them. Letting go sounded much easier than it really was to do. I looked over at the sketchbook, wondering how he’d held on to an anchor that had been gone from him for so long.
“I tell you all of this, Grace, not to lecture or make you feel discouraged. That is the opposite of my intention. I do believe you have the potential to become a great leader—alas, as I said earlier, that time may come sooner than you would like.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m leaving, Grace.”
Chapter Eleven
TETHER
AFTER HOLDING MY BREATH FOR A MOMENT
“Whoa. What? You can’t leave. not now.” Panic rumbled behind my voice.
Gabriel scratched at his bandage. “Sirhan’s guards found me today. They came here to deliver a message.” He massaged his bruised jaw. He must have taken quite the beating. “I have forty-eight hours to return to Sirhan or else he and the entire pack will come here to collect me.”
Only a couple of hours ago, I’d been determined to go to Sirhan myself—but the prospect of his coming to Rose Crest made my stomach clench with dread. “Sirhan would really come here?”
Gabriel nodded. His eyes held that grave look. “Believe me, that is not something you want to happen.”
“But you’re his beta. Can’t you reason with him? Ask for more time?” Two weeks ago I would have been happy to get rid of Gabriel, but at the moment he was one of the few people I had left in the world to rely on. The idea of his leaving made me want to scream at the heavens.
“Sirhan has never been quite the same since his mate, Rachel, died as a result of Caleb’s treachery. And now Sirhan is dying of old age. Can you imagine how that would be for someone who has stayed young and felt immortal for almost a thousand
years? The rapid aging he has gone through in the last few months has taken a toll, not only on his body but also on his mind. He is not someone who can be reasoned with easily. He is facing death in what appears to be only a few days’ time, and that has made him a desperate man. And desperate men can be very dangerous.”
“Then you really are in danger if you go back there?”
“If I reassure Sirhan of my loyalty by returning quickly, then I should be okay. As his beta, it is my duty to be with him in these last few days. I was going to go straightaway this afternoon, but I could not leave yet, after I heard what happened to your father.”
“But you are still leaving?”
“I must go first thing in the morning. There is an additional danger to Sirhan coming here. According to pack laws that are even older than I am, the place in which the alpha dies is where we must hold the Challenging Ceremony to determine the new alpha. If Sirhan were to pass away while he was here, not only would that bring Caleb and his pack here, it would also bring other Urbat challengers from all over the world to Rose Crest. You do not want your little town to become a battleground for every werewolf seeking to overthrow me.”
No, I certainly do not.
I had so many more questions for Gabriel, but before I could ask them, we were both startled by the sound of a mournful, and terribly loud, howl that emanated from the forest behind the neighborhood.
Daniel.
“Oh no!” I shot up from my seat and accidentally knocked Gabriel’s sketchbook from the table. His hand shot out and caught it before I could react. “I heard Deputy Marsh threatening to get a wolf-hunting party together. With everything that happened today, I totally forgot. They think Pete Bradshaw was attacked by a wolf, and now that he’s dead … They even have silver bullets.”
“That is a disturbing development.” Gabriel stood up and gathered his drawing pencils and sketchbook into a knapsack.
“I need to do something.” My hand went to the moonstone in my shirt pocket.
Gabriel put his hand on my arm. “Let me go after him. I could use a good run to think some things through, and you need rest. I will find Daniel, take him somewhere safe, and stay with him through the night to make sure he is out of danger.”
He slung his knapsack over his shoulder.
“Wait.” I pulled the moonstone from my pocket and placed it on the table.
Gabriel gasped when he saw it. He extended his hand toward it, and I could see his fingers itching to touch the stone. I nodded my approval, and he pressed his fingers against its surface. I could see some of the tension in his body physically drain out of him. It must have been quite the sacrifice for Gabriel to give up his moonstone ring for my brother. This was probably the longest he’d been without one for centuries.
For half a second, I wanted to snatch the stone back—afraid Gabriel might try to steal it from me like Talbot had. But then I shook my head, realizing it was the wolf’s selfishness that would make me feel that way. I watched in silence for a few more moments while Gabriel soaked in the hopeful power of the stone.
“How did you find this?” he asked when he finally pulled his hand away from it.
“Talbot was hiding it from me. I just found out that he’d had it since yesterday. I … I wanted to seriously hurt him when he told me.” Maybe there was something to all this anger stuff. “I want you to take it to Daniel,” I said. “I want you to cure him with it. I don’t know how.”
“Neither do I. Not really. I have my speculations. I believe the process may be much like how we tried to heal your father—concentrating energy into him—but using the moonstone as a filter. Alas, I know that I am not the one who can bring him back.” Gabriel picked up the stone and handed it back to me. “Only you can.”
I bit my lip and closed my hand over the stone. What if I tried to change Daniel back and only made things worse, like I had with my father? “Why me?”
“The connection the two of you have—I believe you are Daniel’s anchor. His tether to what makes him human. I believe only you have the ability to bring the human side of him back.”
I nodded, realizing that I had already known what he’d just told me. I was the only one who could do it—just like I’d been the only one who could cure Daniel a year ago.
The first time I’d experienced the connection between Daniel and me—months ago when he brought me to the Garden of Angels—it had felt like we were tethered together and I was his lifeline. Like I was the one who could pull him to safety.
“Your anger is trying to sever that connection. It is even more imperative now that you deal with it as soon as possible. You must not try to change Daniel back until you have—or I am afraid you will lose him forever.”
I swallowed hard, unable to respond. Even though I had the moonstone now, Gabriel knew I wasn’t ready to use it.
I knew I wasn’t ready.
Daniel’s howls grew louder. Perhaps he knew it, too.
“I must bid you good-bye. I will protect Daniel tonight, but I will be gone in the morning.” He stood and bowed to me, bending from the waist with one hand over his heart, as if addressing royalty. “I have faith in you, Divine One. I know you and Daniel are destined to do great things for the Urbat.”
And then he was out the door before I could even muster up an argument to his beliefs. Instead, I let myself be grateful for his help.
I’d have it for only a few more hours.
Chapter Twelve
DO THE MATH
LATER THAT EVENING
Dad being worse off now because of my botched healing attempt
+
Finally having the moonstone and not being able to use it
+
Fearing my anger was driving Daniel away, and not knowing how to get rid of it + Knowing Gabriel, the one person I had left to rely on, had to leave or else my town might become a paranormal war zone
= PRETTY MUCH THE PERFECT RECIPE FOR INSOMNIA
I tried watching TV for a while in hopes of getting sleepy, but the only thing on was the local news. They kept showing live updates about the warehouse fire that had now spread to the abandoned train station and threatened other buildings on the block. They cut in with occasional reports on Dad’s medical status (still critical). And the only other story they seemed to have to run with was the death of Pete Bradshaw. The phone started ringing so I hit the Off button on the remote just as a reporter shoved a microphone into poor Ann Bradshaw’s face just outside her house.
I looked at the caller ID on the wireless handset.
Aunt Carol.
I’d found a long piece of string in the utility drawer in the kitchen and had used it to hang the moonstone around my neck as a pendant. I clutched at it now for strength as I answered the phone.
Aunt Carol immediately laid me flat with a lecture about how I should have called her right away and not let her find out about my father from the evening news—apparently, the story about the explosion was being reported as far away as Cincinnati. But then whatever latent motherly instinct was buried inside my aunt must have surfaced, because the next thing I knew I was insisting that she didn’t need to drive all the way out here with Charity and James to be with me.
“I’m fine. And the ICU won’t let James and Charity visit because they’re both under thirteen, so I think it’s better if they stay out there. I don’t think they’d be able to handle being this close without being allowed to see him.” I knew that reasoning probably wouldn’t keep my sister away, and I contemplated asking Aunt Carol to keep the news from Charity all together. But I knew how pissed I’d be if I were her when I eventually did find out. It’s just that the last thing I needed was the three of them coming here, with so many dangers looming and so many secrets that could be exposed. I’d promised James once that I’d keep him safe, and the best way to do that right now was to keep him away.
Aunt Carol definitely wasn’t keeping mum on the subject, because it was only five minutes after I’d hung up with her that
I had to field a call from Grandma Kramer in Florida. If it weren’t for my grandfather’s recent health problems, I knew I would have ended up with them on the doorstep pretty soon, too.
Once phone calls were finished, I was even less sleepy and I couldn’t shake the need to feel somewhat productive—so I went upstairs and started in on some of my homework, and attempted to finish a stack of Daniel’s missed assignments, too. All the while, I cursed the fact that Daniel and I had only three classes together. I was at a total loss when it came to his calculus homework, and the one assignment we did have in common—tracking the upcoming eclipse for our astronomy class—couldn’t be done until the lunar eclipse on Saturday. I tucked that worksheet back into my backpack, where I found Mr. Barlow’s letters of recommendation for Trenton.
I slid open my desk drawer and pulled out the large white envelope that contained my Trenton application. I’d looked at it only once since I’d gotten it, and I remembered feeling overwhelmed—now I had two to tackle by Friday. It might seem like a trivial thing to be worried about at a time like this, but Trenton was what Daniel had always wanted, and Dad was right: I needed to make sure Daniel had a future to come back to.
The actual application part would be easy, yet time-consuming, to fill out for Daniel. However, it was the essays that scared me. I mean, I barely knew the answers to the questions for myself, let alone how to answer them on someone else’s behalf. I stared at the broken blue seal on the envelope for a long time and then stuck it back in my drawer.
Later, I thought and went back to homework.
I picked up Daniel’s chem book and settled onto my bed, thinking that if anything were going to help me fall asleep, it would be chemistry. Besides, I figured I could successfully tackle a few of those assignments since I’d had that class last year. The only problem was that as soon as I flipped the book open to chapter ten, the memory of studying this assignment with Pete Bradshaw at the library last year overtook my thoughts.
