The Lost Saint

by Bree Despain

It was just that, to me, sex was a big deal.

  I mean, it was a running joke at HTA that if my dad substitute taught one of the religion classes, it was no doubt going to be a lesson on chastity. And let me tell you, having to sit through your dad’s lecturing all of your friends about abstinence—not the funfest you’d think it would be. But even though Dad’s spiels always made me want to bang my head on my desk, I couldn’t help believing the things he was telling us about waiting for marriage. It just seemed to go with the whole package, you know? That if I believed in Jesus, and believed in all those parables he taught, and believed in forgiving people, then what the Bible had to say about sex being sacred and special had to be right, too.

  And as much as I wanted it—and I knew Daniel was the one I wanted it with—I also wanted to wait. Even if it was one of the hardest choices I’ve ever had to make.

  I’d worried my decision would be a problem for Daniel. We’d lived very different lives during the three years he’d been gone, and he’d, um, gotten it on, so to speak, more than once. But one of the things I loved about Daniel was that he’d completely understood.

  “You’re different from those other girls,” Daniel once told me. “We’re different. I love you. And I want things to be right with us.”

  But now with all the lying and fighting and secrets that were suddenly happening between Daniel and me—it almost felt like nothing was quite right with us anymore.

  “So are you going to tell him?” April asked, pulling me out of my thoughts.

  “Tell who what?”

  “Are you going to tell Daniel about Talbot and you?”

  “I told you, there is no Talbot and me.”

  “But there could be,” she crooned.

  “Okay, I’m not telling you anything anymore.”

  “Oh, come on, you know I’m just teasing. I meant, are you going to tell Daniel about Talbot being your driver? You know he’s going to be all jealous that he was stuck doing inventory at Day’s with Katie Summers instead of being out there fighting side by side with you in the city.”

  I might have told April way too much lately, but I still hadn’t told her the reason I’d been avoiding Daniel all day. As far as she knew, Daniel was just as gung ho about training me to become a superhero. She didn’t know how he’d turned his back on me and on the plan that he’d come up with in the first place.

  “Yeah. I think I will tell him.”

  My body tingled with the hope of a new idea: when Daniel heard how I took that guy down in the alley, he’d realize that I really could take care of myself out there. He’d change his mind about agreeing with Gabriel. When he heard how I helped save that woman, he’d have to believe in me again.

  And then maybe he’d finally tell me whatever secret he was keeping from me.

  BACK AT THE SCHOOL

  I didn’t have to wait long to see Daniel. He was hanging out in the school parking lot when I got off the bus. He leaned against the seat of his red-and-black motorcycle, his hands tucked in the pockets of his hoodie.

  “Gotta go,” I said to April, and practically skipped over to Daniel through the mostly deserted lot. I was about to throw my arms around his neck and tell him all about what had happened in the alley with the Gelal and Talbot, until I saw the stony look on his face.

  It reminded me of Jude. All stoic and cold.

  “Hey,” I said, stopping short of hugging him. “What’re you doing here?”

  “Your dad wanted to make sure you had a ride home. I thought you guys were going to be back a while ago, though. I was starting to get concerned.”

  “Sorry.” I gave him an apologetic smile.

  Daniel picked up his helmet from the back of the bike and handed it to me. I always thought it was funny that he insisted I be the one who wore it—considering that I had superhuman healing abilities and he didn’t. Then again, according to my reading, it seemed like a catastrophic head injury was one of the few things that could kill an Urbat—besides silver and certain demon venom (including werewolf)—if not healed quickly enough. That was probably why when Daniel’s monster of a father attacked him when he was only thirteen, he’d tried to smash Daniel’s head open with a broken easel.

  His father had wanted Daniel dead.

  Daniel got on the bike, and I climbed on behind him. He was so quiet and distant I didn’t know how he’d feel if I wrapped my arms around his waist like I usually did. I placed my hands lightly on his sides instead. Daniel started the bike, and we pulled out onto Crescent Street. He didn’t glance back at me at all while he drove; he just stared straight ahead.

  The night air felt so cold and heavy between us, filled with all the things I wanted to tell him but suddenly felt like I couldn’t. I shifted back on my seat and let go of his sides, letting my supernatural balance keep me steady on the bike. How could it be that I’d felt perfectly comfortable driving back to the bus alone with Talbot, but now I didn’t even know where to put my hands while riding with Daniel?

  We pulled up in front of my house. Daniel put his feet down and shifted into neutral, but left the bike idling. He wasn’t planning on staying long. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  I pulled off the helmet and handed it to him. He didn’t touch my fingers as he took it from my hands. I stepped back, ready to walk away.

  But I couldn’t.

  I couldn’t run off again without answers. I shouldn’t have done that last time—even if that experience had helped me break through the barrier and fully tap into my powers for the first time.

  “What on earth is wrong?” I asked Daniel. “Why are you acting like you’re so pissed off at me?”

  Daniel blinked. He let out a small sigh and then pressed his lips together.

  “I’m sorry I ran off yesterday. And I’m sorry I gave you the silent treatment all day today. It’s just that I know you’re lying about where you were the other night. And on top of that, I couldn’t believe how you didn’t back me up with Gabriel. But I’m over being angry now. I was done in religion class, but I didn’t get a chance to talk to you because of the service project.” And then I spent the next two hours alone with another guy—but I didn’t think now was the best time to tell him about Talbot anymore. “I just want to understand why you’re acting this way. And I don’t want you to be mad at me. I can’t handle it anymore.”

  “I told you already. I’m not mad at you, Gracie. I’m worried.”

  His words startled me. Hadn’t Jude said almost the exact same thing to me once? Back when Daniel first returned to town and Jude had wanted me to stay away from him.

  “Worried about what? Tell me, please?”

  Daniel gripped the handlebars of his bike. The engine rumbled between us. He leaned his head back and stared up at the crescent moon hanging in the sky, his deep, dark, mud-pie eyes unblinking. The walnut tree—illuminated by the porch light—just beyond him made the perfect background for his silhouette. If this had been any other moment, I would’ve pulled out my sketch pad to capture the beauty of the image. But now, seeing Daniel this way only made my heart ache for him.

  I bit the inside of my lip. “I know something’s wrong, Daniel. Beyond lying to me, I can see it in your eyes. You look like you did that night when I kissed you for the first time under the walnut tree. The night I told you I loved you, and you ran away because you thought you could never ask me to save you.”

  Daniel closed his eyes. I swear sometimes he looked just like an angel.

  “But I did save you. In all of this pain we’ve been through, that’s the one thing that’s made it worth it.” I touched his shoulder. “So what’s going on? Why don’t you want me to train anymore? And where were you the other night? What happened that you think you can’t tell me?”

  Daniel shook off my touch. “Do you think I had something to do with hurting that Tyler kid? Is that what you think?”

  “No. That thought never once crossed my mind.” I held my hands out by my sides. “But I know you weren’t home watching TV l
ike you told the police. And I saw a motorcycle just like yours outside a bar downtown when I was on my way home from The Depot. It was a place called Knuckle Grinders, I think.”

  Daniel flashed a look in my direction. Did he know exactly what I was talking about?

  “Why would you tell me you’re sick and then go to a bar? Do you have any idea how worried that makes me?” I’d defended him with April—said he wouldn’t go back to who he used to be—but I almost didn’t know what to think anymore.

  “I was looking for information,” Daniel said.

  “About Jude?” Relief washed through me. “Why wouldn’t you just tell me that?”

  Daniel bowed his head and closed his eyes again. He looked almost like he was praying. After a moment he let out a long breath and dropped his hands from the handlebars. He looked at me with his dark eyes and swallowed hard. “All I’ve ever wanted is a normal life, Grace. You know that. I want a normal family. I want Trenton. I want you and me, and a normal future.”

  “I know, Daniel.…”

  The only problem was that I didn’t know how I fit into Daniel’s picture of normalcy. Not anymore, anyway. Not with my messed-up family. Not with my close-to-zero odds of going to college. And especially not with my superpowers, which weren’t just going to go away. Daniel could never have a normal life with me. He’d need someone like Katie Summers for that.

  “Then you can understand why I want you to drop all this nonsense about being a Hound of Heaven,” he said.

  “But what I don’t get is why you wanted me to start training in the first place. You’re the one who made me think I could be a hero. You started me on this path.”

  “I was just trying to make the best of a bad situation. But I was wrong, Grace. Gabriel is right. It’s too dangerous. I couldn’t stand losing you to the curse.”

  “But you’re not going to lose me. I’m not going to change. And even if I did, you could save me. There is a cure—”

  “But what if it didn’t work? It’s not a fail-safe. You can’t go about this thinking it isn’t a big deal if you change into a werewolf. There might not be a way back from that.” Daniel brushed his hand through his shaggy blond hair. “And it’s far too dangerous anyway. I don’t know what I was thinking. You’re no match for a demon.…”

  Was that why he’d been acting so weird since the fight with Pete? I wasn’t able to fight back then, so now Daniel didn’t think I was capable anymore?

  I was itching once again to tell him about the alley. About how I took down that Gelal in a matter of seconds. The only problem was that that story also involved a gun being pointed at my head.… But he had to know what I was really capable of.

  Before I could say anything more, Daniel reached out and took my hand in his. “Gracie, all I want is for us to have a normal future—together. I don’t know if that’s possible. I don’t know if the universe will let me have it. I don’t know if I even deserve it.” He slipped his fingers between mine. “But I’m sure as hell going to try to get it.”

  I looked down at our entwined hands. How could I tell him about Talbot now?

  “Trenton applications are due in a month,” Daniel said. “Have you even looked at yours?”

  I shook my head. “No, I’ve been too busy …” With everything he thought I shouldn’t be doing.

  Daniel let go of my hand. He brushed my cheek with his fingers and then drew my face closer to his. He touched our foreheads together. “Will you do this for me, Grace? Can you forget about all this hero stuff before you get hurt? Let your dad and Gabriel be the ones who look for Jude? And let me help you get your Trenton application together?” He shifted his head slightly and brushed his lips against mine. His touch was as intoxicating as always. “Please, Gracie,” he whispered against my mouth. “My future means nothing without you.”

  “Okay,” I said. “But you know I don’t make promises.”

  Daniel laughed slightly. “Yes, I know. But I’ll settle for your ‘okay.’ ”

  I found myself clutching my moonstone necklace as his lips melted against mine. His kiss made my legs ache like they did when I needed a good run. Every tingling cell in my body wanted me to climb onto Daniel’s lap on that bike, but he pulled away after a moment.

  “I should go,” he said. “I’ve got homework and stuff.” He really was taking this college thing seriously. “At least look over that application tonight, okay?”

  I nodded. I watched from the porch as he drove away, and then I went into the house.

  LATER THAT NIGHT

  I sat at the kitchen table with a plate of untouched leftovers pushed aside and my Trenton application spread out in front of me. I’d dug it out of my backpack, where it had been since I’d gotten it from Barlow last week, and broken the seal on the envelope. Mom’s evening-news ritual played out in the background as I looked over the requirements: portfolio of twenty-one works in at least three different mediums, two letters of recommendation, an application that would span the length of Dad’s car if you lined the papers up end to end, and two essays.

  “Ah, Trenton,” Dad said as he came up to the table. “Application time already, huh?”

  “Yeah.”

  Dad picked up a page of the application and scanned through it. He made a low whistling noise. “Tuition has really gone up, hasn’t it?”

  I nodded. “There’s something about financial-aid forms on their website. Daniel for sure qualifies, but I don’t think I do.”

  “Hmm.” Dad put down the application. “We’ll figure something out. Your mom used to save part of her paycheck each month for you kids. We’ve had to dip into it a bit lately, but with Jude gone …”

  Mom clicked up the TV’s volume. Apparently, we were being too loud for her.

  Dad leaned in close to my ear. “Was she like this the whole time I was gone?”

  “On and off,” I said. “Worse sometimes. At least she ate some of her dinner tonight.”

  “Might be time to consult Dr. Connors again.”

  The TV volume went up another couple of decibels. I rubbed behind one of my ears.

  “Make sure you don’t leave those essays until the last minute. They’re the hardest part, you know.”

  “Yeah,” I said, and picked up the form with the essay questions.

  Dad stroked his hand over my hair and then squeezed my shoulder. “Don’t know how we’ll manage without you here.” He picked up his planner from the kitchen counter and headed to his study.

  I glanced over the essay questions. The first was the less difficult of the two: “Which artist has influenced your work the most, and why?” I could easily write up an essay on Renoir or Cassatt—if I could pick between the two. But the second question made me pause. Stumped me, actually. “How will you use your talents to make the world a better place?”

  I was still mulling over the question when my ears pricked up at the mention of something on TV. I stood up from the table to see the screen better. A reporter interviewed a woman in a torn red shirt who looked vaguely familiar.

  “I would have died,” the woman said. “The man with the gun said he was going to kill me. But then there was this rush of movement, and this other guy came out of nowhere and pulled the masked man off me. He told me to run, so I did. There may have been a girl there with him. I didn’t get a good look at either of them, but they saved my life.”

  The camera cut back to a reporter standing in front of a news van parked outside that alley on Tidwell Street. “After being saved by an unknown person or persons, Ms. Taylor ran all the way to the police station. When authorities arrived on the scene, they found one of the alleged attackers tied up and unconscious beside a Dumpster. Authorities have not yet been able to identify or question the man, but they hope to interrogate him about a series of similar attacks in the city over the last few weeks. Police think he may have been involved with the murder of Leanne Greenwood, the waitress who was found dead near this same area last month. Although only one of Ms. Taylor’s alleged
assailants was apprehended, city police are relieved that at least one dangerous criminal is off the streets tonight.”

  The camera cut to an anchorman—the same one with the poufy hair from the other night. “Thank you, Carlos. And it sounds like we may have a Good Samaritan or two to thank for this arrest?”

  “Yes,” the reporter in front of the van said. “Captain Morris said that this isn’t the first report of an unknown citizen helping to stop a crime in the past few weeks. Perhaps there is hope that the crime wave that has the city gripped by fear has an end in sight.”

  “That is good news, Carlos,” the anchor said, and then the station cut to a commercial.

  A warm feeling rushed through me. My fingers trembled as I gathered up my application papers from the table. I looked over the second essay question one more time before I slipped the forms back into the envelope.

  How am I going to use my talents to make the world a better place?

  I carried the packet up to my room and placed it on my desk next to my more-than-ancient computer. I pulled the khakis I’d been wearing earlier in the day off my chair and stuck my hand in the front pocket. My hands still shook as I dug out the crumpled slip of paper and dialed the number written there into my cell phone.

  It rang four times and then someone picked up.

  “Hello?” a guy’s voice said. My sensitive ears picked up music and what sounded like shouting in the background. He must have been back at The Depot.

  “Talbot? This is Grace.”

  “Hey, kid. What’s up?”

  I sucked a deep breath in and blew it out and then said, before I could change my mind: “I want you to train me. I want to find my brother—and hopefully take down that gang that’s been terrorizing the city in the process.”

  Talbot laughed. I could hear the smile in his voice when he said, “I thought you’d never ask.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Test

  TUESDAY AFTERNOON