The Lost Saint

by Bree Despain

  I slowed my pace to a jog. I had only a few more blocks until home, and I wanted to cool down. But then I noticed something strange about the parish as I went past: the lights were on.

  It was late, and Dad was still out of town. I knew it was possible that the lights had been left on at some point over the weekend, but a feeling—kind of like an extra sense—told me that someone, or something, was inside the building.

  But who would be in there at this hour?

  My thoughts immediately went to what happened at the market, the report about the attempted break-in at the school, and Daniel’s speculation that Jude was revisiting the places of his past misdeeds. First Maryanne’s house, James’s window, Day’s Market, and then the school. Wouldn’t the logical next place be the parish—the final place he’d go? The place where he’d ultimately turned into a werewolf, the place where he’d attacked me, infected me, and where he’d tried to kill Daniel?

  I didn’t want to believe that Jude was trying to cause damage and terror on purpose. But if this was his final stop on his tour of his past crimes, then this could be my only chance to find him—especially since my only other lead hadn’t panned out.

  I slowed my pace even more as I approached the parish, and I tried to will my heart to stop pounding so loudly. I listened as closely as I could over my disobedient heartbeat, concentrating on far-off noises: the sound of a car on the empty evening streets, a song whistled by another person somewhere down the block, the chirp of the crosswalk meter.

  I followed another sound, a rustling noise, like boxes or objects being moved around, down the alley between the parish and the school. At first I thought the noise came from my father’s office. I hesitated for a moment outside the door in the alley, but then I realized the sound came from somewhere deeper inside the parish. I slipped around the side of the building to another door in the back. It was the entrance to the small caretaker’s apartment that had been unoccupied since Don Mooney died. Dad hadn’t rented out the apartment again, and it had been left untouched since the day we heard about Don’s death.

  My ears picked up a rattling from behind the door. It sounded like a stuck drawer being forced open. Suddenly, I wasn’t thinking about rescuing Jude anymore. I was thinking about the destruction caused at Day’s Market. All the anger I’d felt today filled me again. Someone might be trying to do the same to your father’s parish, said that voice in my head. Starting in your friend’s old home. I wasn’t going to let someone get away with that—even if that someone was my own brother.

  That rumbling anger surged through me. Clutched at my heart like a clawed hand. Before I could stop myself, I burst through the doorway into the room.

  A tall man whirled around in front of Don’s desk. Something silver flashed in his hand. My feet and arms were not my own as I flew at him. A look of shock crossed his face as I knocked the knife from his hand and hit him in the chest with the butt of my hand. He flew back and slammed against the wall, and then landed on top of the desk. I jumped on top of him and grabbed him by the throat.

  “How dare you,” I snarled. “How dare you try to steal my friend’s things?” I raised my fist above the man’s face, ready to smash it into his nose if he so much as made a false move.

  But the man didn’t struggle. He just stared up at me. My breaths heaved in my chest, and my hand trembled with rage as I held my fist above his head. But I couldn’t help staring back into his steel-blue eyes—eyes that seemed familiar, like I’d gazed into them before. The man seemed young, mid-twenties maybe, but something about his eyes seemed absolutely ancient—like he’d seen enough of the world to fill a dozen lifetimes.

  My fingers twitched against his throat. I could feel his pulse in my hand, steady and sure. Something foreign and hateful inside my head told me to squeeze. Punish this man for invading this place.

  But did I really want to do that?

  A smile slid across the stranger’s lips. It seemed as ancient as his eyes. “Hello, Grace,” he said, sounding somewhat strangled.

  At the sound of my name, the power clutching my heart eased a bit. I gasped at the sight of my hand gripping his throat. But I didn’t let go. I couldn’t until I knew what this man was doing here. “How do you know me?” I demanded.

  I looked the man over for the first time. Or what little I could see of him, since I was straddling him, pinning his arms down with my knees. He had longish auburn hair and a short trimmed beard. He was tall, almost as tall as Don Mooney—whom I always thought of as being as big as a grizzly—had been, but slim. He wore black from head to toe, which had made him seem sinister at first. But then, a horrible realization dawned on me as I noticed the white square notch in his black collar—a pastor’s collar, like the one my dad sometimes wore when he was working.

  “Oh, no!” I let go of his throat and scrambled off him as fast as I could. I clutched at the moonstone pendant that hung from my own neck. I let its warm, calming strength wash through me. “I’m sorry, Pastor. I’m so sorry.” Heat seared my cheeks. “I don’t know what came over me, Pastor … I just … just …” I let my sentence trail off. How could I possibly explain what I had just done to this man?

  I mean, I had attacked a pastor—in a freaking church! My anger had been replaced by embarrassment, which quickly edged into shame.

  “I’m sorry,” I said again. Could I possibly apologize enough? “I saw you in here with that knife …” I pointed at the silver dagger, lodged in the ground with its handle sticking straight up in the air. A small scrap of fabric had fluttered to the ground near the knife when I’d knocked it from the man’s hand. It was Don’s infamous knife—the one that I’d plunged into Daniel’s chest. The one I’d used to break the curse. I’d found it in the parish a few weeks later, brought it here to Don’s apartment, and left it with his things, where it belonged.

  “I thought you were a burglar. I thought you were trying to steal that knife.” The knife was ancient, made of very pure silver, and I always figured it could fetch a nice price with the right buyer. But pastors don’t break into churches and steal stuff. There had to be some other explanation.

  The man smiled again, and with a quick movement he reached down and picked up the scrap of cloth and then wrapped it around the hilt of the silver knife and pulled it out of its sticking place in the floor. He looked at the dagger with appraising eyes, like a collector inspecting an antique. “How can I steal something that already belongs to me?”

  “What?” I looked at him again—the body of a young man with the eyes of an ancient seer. I noticed the way he gingerly held the knife in his hand, careful to keep the scrap of fabric between his skin and the knife. I could think of only one reason that this man would be afraid to touch silver.

  My muscles tensed immediately as the thought took root in my brain. This man wasn’t a pastor. This man wasn’t even human. Then another thought surpassed those, and my body trembled with fear. They’re coming for you. He makes you think you can trust him, but you can’t, Jude’s voice echoed in my head.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, backing away toward the door. “I need to go.” I bumped into a chair and tried to steady myself without looking too frantic. I didn’t know what I’d been thinking coming into this room in the first place; I was no match for this man. I might have fought a couple of punks at a nightclub last night and run at full capacity without faltering this evening, but that was nothing, I realized now. No matter what kind of power I could summon, it was nothing compared to what he could do to me. This man was dangerous. This man was a werewolf.

  This man was—

  “Gabriel!”

  “What?” I whirled around toward the open door.

  Daniel stood there, his mouth hanging open. He dropped his motorcycle keys in the doorway and lunged for the man with the knife. But it wasn’t an offensive strike. The man grabbed Daniel by the arm, and the two embraced. It was a quick hug, but a hug nonetheless.

  “Daniel, my boy!” The man clapped him on the back. �
��You’re looking much better since Christmas. Although I was hoping to see you without any bandages.”

  Daniel shook his head. “You have no idea how much I need to talk to you right now.”

  I glanced away from the two.

  “Always glad to be of service.”

  I shifted from one foot to the other and cleared my throat.

  They turned toward me. “Grace,” Daniel said, “this is Gabriel.”

  “Gabriel the Angel?” That was how I’d always referred to him in my head, because of the statue of him in the Garden of Angels.

  “Angel, huh? Sounds like Daniel’s been making up stories about me.” Gabriel’s lips edged up in an ancient, friendly smile.

  “I’m sorry to sound rude, but why are you here?” I couldn’t help asking. And how had Daniel followed me?

  “Because I brought him here,” my dad said as he came through the narrow doorway into the already crowded room. “Gabriel came to help us.”

  “You’re back!” I sprang at Dad the way Daniel had lunged at Gabriel, and wrapped my arms around his middle. As mad as I’d been at him for being gone, I couldn’t help feeling a rush of relief that he was here. “I thought you didn’t know when you were coming back.”

  “I didn’t,” Dad said. “I wasn’t sure how long it was going to take to track down Gabriel and convince him to come to Rose Crest.”

  “But why didn’t you tell me that’s where you were headed in the first place?”

  “Because I didn’t want either you or Daniel trying to come after me.”

  “Why?”

  “Because hunting down a werewolf pack and visiting their den without an invitation is a dangerous and foolhardy endeavor. Especially for a human,” Gabriel said. “Your father is lucky he’s good with words. Sirhan, my alpha, was quite intrigued by his stories.”

  I let go of Dad and turned back toward Gabriel.

  “Your father was also lucky that I was already hoping to pay you a visit,” Gabriel said. “I’ve been wanting to meet you, Grace.”

  “Me?”

  “You’re gaining quite the reputation in my pack. They call you the Divine One.”

  “The what?”

  “It’s a silly name, yes. But they can’t help being fascinated by you. In the four thousand years since the first Urbat succumbed to the curse, nobody has ever cured someone the way you cured Daniel.”

  Gabriel clapped Daniel on the back again, but this time Daniel dropped his gaze to his feet. Red flushed his face. I didn’t know why he’d be embarrassed by the notion that he’d been saved. But then again, sometimes I wondered if he still thought he wasn’t worthy of it. Or maybe he just didn’t want to look me in the eye. We were still in a fight, after all.

  “They think you’re something quite special, Grace.” Gabriel crossed the distance between the two of us and took my hand. He held it for a moment and then bowed his head. The gesture felt like something from centuries ago.

  I was the one blushing now. I glanced at Daniel to see what he made of this “Divine One” idea, but he was still staring at his feet. I looked back at Gabriel. “And you? Do you think I’m special?”

  Gabriel gently let go of my hand. “I’m here to find out.”

  It was then that the idea hit me. With Gabriel here, I finally had the chance to reach my full potential. I had someone with the same abilities as me who could really teach me how to use them. No offense to Daniel or anything, but it was hard for him to show me how to use powers that he didn’t have anymore. I mean, I’d outrun him even when he’d been on a motorcycle. But Gabriel had been using his superpowers for more than eight hundred years. And he was the one who thought it was possible for the Urbat to reclaim their blessings—to use their powers to help the world. Or at least that was what he’d written in those letters to his sister Katharine.

  Using my powers to run this evening had been amazing. But now that Gabriel was here to help, my becoming a hero actually felt possible.

  Dad cleared his throat. I’d all but forgotten he was still there. “Let’s move this gathering to my office so we can discuss what to do about Jude. It’s time to figure out how we’re going to find him.”

  A FEW MINUTES LATER, IN MY DAD’S OFFICE AT THE PARISH

  Gabriel sat in one of the cushiony chairs in front of my dad’s desk. It was so strange how he looked so young yet so old at the same time. And even stranger to be standing here listening to him talking for the first time when I already felt like I knew him so well. Reading the book of letters he had written to his sister all those centuries ago made it seem as if I’d looked into his soul. I was practically bursting to tell him my idea about wanting him to train me.

  “Grace?” Dad said. His tone of his voice suggested he’d had to say my name a few times before getting my attention.

  “What?” I pulled my gaze off Gabriel and looked at my dad.

  He raised his eyebrows above the rims of his glasses. “I just asked you to tell us about the phone call from Jude.”

  “Oh.” I told them about the call and what Jude had said about someone coming for us. “He also said that I couldn’t trust someone.”

  “Sounds like Jude may still have it out for Daniel,” Dad said. “He still thinks we shouldn’t trust you.” Dad looked at Daniel. He sat in the far corner, picking at the white bandage on his arm.

  “What else is new?” Daniel mumbled. It was the first thing he’d said since we’d left Don Mooney’s apartment.

  “I think the more significant part of the conversation is that Jude said that there was someone coming for you,” Gabriel said. “Do you have any idea what he means?”

  “Not a clue.” I shrugged. “Daniel thinks he’s just messing with us, but I don’t think he’d come back here just for a sick joke.”

  “Depends on how far gone your brother is. The wolf can make you do all sorts of sick things.” Gabriel pulled at the pastor’s collar around his neck. I wondered if he was thinking about Katharine—the sister he’d killed after he became a werewolf. “But I think it is safe to assume that you are all in danger if Jude is anywhere near here.”

  “Which means we need to find him soon.” Dad leaned forward in his chair. “And we’re going to need a proper plan of attack. I think it’s only logical to assume that Jude may have contacted other people from his past. I’d like you to find a way to bring the subject up with April. Find out if she’s heard anything from him.”

  “I already have,” I said.

  “And?”

  I told them about my visit to April’s house and what she told me about her blog and tracking Jude’s IP address. “It was for a club in the city. They have a Wi-Fi bar there that he must have used. Get this, Daniel, it’s called The Depot.” I looked at Daniel, but he didn’t even glance in my direction. Whatever temporary good mood seeing Gabriel had put him in was apparently gone now. I cleared my throat and turned to my dad. “I found a card for the club in the mess at Day’s Market.”

  Dad sat up a bit. He must have recognized it as a clue, the same way I had—unlike Daniel, who had originally scoffed at the idea.

  “Hmm,” Daniel said from his corner. I glanced back at him. His eyebrows knitted together as he scratched at the tape on his bandage. “I’ve been asking around about the place. Not good stuff.”

  “Who did you ask?” I gave Daniel a pointed look that he didn’t see. “Is that what you were doing last night?” But if that were the case, why wouldn’t he have just told me?

  Daniel ignored my questions and looked at my dad. “Maybe you and I should go down there tonight and ask around. I don’t want Grace to go.”

  “Um …” I hesitated. “I kind of already did.”

  “Grace!” Daniel and my dad bellowed at the same time.

  “Do you have any idea what kind of people—not to mention nonpeople—hang out there?” Daniel asked, looking at me for the first time. Except it was more like a glare.

  “Well, I do now.”

  Daniel almost cracked
a smile, but he shifted it quickly back into a look of annoyance. “I thought I asked you not to go looking for Jude on your own.”

  “I know. But you were sick, or so you claimed, so I didn’t want to bug you.” Except Daniel didn’t look sick at all. Not even earlier when I was at his place. “And April said she knew where it was, and I had the keycard, so we kind of teamed up.”

  “Whoa, you took April with you? Grace, do you have any idea how—?”

  “Spare me the lecture, okay? It was stupid. I should’ve known better. We could have been killed.…”

  “What? Are you okay?” Daniel asked, his voice suddenly softer. It was the first time he’d sounded like my boyfriend all evening. “Did someone hurt you?”

  “No.” I looked away from his concerned gaze, trying to hide the red lie on my neck. I definitely didn’t feel like bringing up what happened with those two guys and Talbot now. “The point is that I went down there and asked around and found nothing. It’s probably been weeks since he’s been there.”

  “And any chance of finding him through that club has probably been lost,” Gabriel said.

  I groaned. “Don’t remind me.”

  “I still want to go down there and see what I can find,” Dad said.

  “You can’t get in without the keycard.” I gave him a sheepish grin. “And I think I kind of dropped it while I was there.” I hadn’t been able to find it since Talbot dragged us out of there.

  Dad made a grumbling noise.

  “I’ve got some contacts,” Daniel said. “I’ll ask around again. See if I can get a new card.”

  “Can you think of anyone else Jude might try to contact?” Dad asked me.

  I shook my head.

  “Hmm.” Dad rubbed his temples, like he was trying to ward off a headache. “I’m going to have to mull this over a bit more before we come up with a plan B. In the meantime, we need to figure out what to do with you, Grace.”