by Бри Деспейн
I can help.”
I looked up at him. He grinned down at me with a friendly smile that made his dimples extra pronounced. Something about him put me on edge—
made my heart beat faster when he looked at me. Maybe it was the way everyone else in the club had seemed a little bit afraid of him.
Talbot put his hand on my shoulder. “You can trust me.”
And there it was: the shape of his mouth or the tone of his voice—something I still couldn’t place—caused a wave of warm familiarity to ripple through my body. That same feeling had made me want to trust him in the club, so why not trust him now? He’d saved us from those guys, after all.
“I don’t know for sure what my brother looks like anymore,” I said. “I haven’t seen him in almost a year.” I remembered how much Daniel had changed physically in the three years while he was gone. Jude could look like anyone these days—especially if he was trying to hide. I pulled out my cell phone and scrolled to the very first photo I’d taken the day I got it—the day before Jude ran away. I’d snapped a picture of Jude as he looked at the moonstone ring Dad had given him.
I handed the phone to Talbot. “It’s kind of hard to tell in that picture because he’s looking down, but Jude’s, like, seven inches taller than me, and he has a lot squarer jaw. He had short, dark brown hair the same color as mine the last time I saw him. And we’ve always had the same nose and violet eyes.”
“Hmm.” Talbot held the phone up next to my head. He bit his lip while he studied the picture on the phone and then my face. I couldn’t help but stare back at him. It was then that I realized that despite the dimples, he had a more mature fullness to his face than most teenage guys I knew. If I had to guess, I’d say he was probably about twenty-one or twenty-two years old. Talbot reached out and brushed my hair off the side of my face as if to help him see my profile better. He took a small step closer and studied me for another moment. I held my breath for every second of it.
“Nope, sorry. Haven’t seen him,” he finally said. He handed back my phone, his warm fingers brushing against my skin. “I’m pretty sure I’d remember eyes like yours.”
Heat crept into my cheeks again. I dropped my gaze and stepped away.
“Well, we’re here.” I motioned toward the Corolla about twenty feet away. “Um, thanks for your help back there.”
“Yes, thank you, Tal!” April looked like she was about to spring a bear hug on the poor boy.
Talbot held up his hands. “No problem. It’s what I’m here for.”
“Good-bye!” April waved at him while I dragged her to the car.
“Hey, Grace Divine?” Talbot called after me.
I glanced back at him. “Yeah?”
“See you around.”
“Okay,” I said, but I don’t know why—it wasn’t like I was ever going to see him again.
IN THE CAR
“You should so totally go for him!” April blurted out as we pulled away from the curb.
“What are you talking about?” I checked my rearview mirror and saw Talbot standing like a sentinel on the sidewalk. He wasn’t kidding about keeping an eye on us until we were driving away. “I already have a boyfriend.”
“Okay, I will concede to the fact that Daniel is wicked hot, but Tal is like a delicious new treat, don’t you think?” April trembled in that excited way of hers. “Did you see how those other guys practically ran away from him?” She squealed and sank into her seat with a dramatic sigh.
“Um, you’re welcome to make a move on the boy, if you want. I can turn the car around so you can get his number.”
“No!” April sat straight up. Her eyes were wide, as if horror-struck by the very idea. She could be a flirt sometimes, but she usually cowered like my old cocker spaniel when it actually came to something real with a guy. “Don’t you dare! Besides, he only had eyes for you.” She jabbed me in the arm. “Grace Divine,” she said in a deep voice, imitating Talbot, “see you around.”
Heat swelled in my face, and I turned my head away before she could see me blush. It didn’t mean anything, and the last thing I wanted was for her to tease me about it.
Just when I thought April had already forgotten our purpose for going to the club in the first place, she sighed again and stared out the window.
“Anyway, Jude is the only guy I care about.”
We were stopped at a traffic light a good three blocks away now, and Talbot had faded from my rearview mirror. I looked straight ahead through the windshield and noticed a long line of motorcycles parked outside a bar called Knuckle Grinders. One of them—a black-and-red Honda Shadow
Spirit—reminded me of Daniel’s bike.
“Yeah, I know what you mean,” I said. “I’ve already got the best guy out there.”
April made an uncomfortable noise and shifted in her seat. After a second she asked, “Do you think Daniel’s really changed?”
The light turned green, and I drove through the intersection. I took one last glimpse at the Honda outside the bar. It sure did look a lot like Daniel’s bike. But there was no way he’d coincidentally be at a bar only three blocks from where I’d been at The Depot. There was no way he’d even be at a bar at all. Besides, he was home sick in bed. “What do you mean?” I asked April.
“All the stuff Jude told me about Daniel—the things that he did. Who … what … he used to be. Don’t you worry about him just going back to the way he was before?”
“I know he won’t,” I said. “It’s physically impossible—he’s been cured of the wolf curse that turned him into a monster in the first place.”
“But the other stuff. You know, the stuff he was into before he even turned into a werewolf. Jude said he got real messed up before then. Drugs and drinking and fighting and stuff.”
“That was all still the influence of the wolf. He was born with the curse. The wolf was always there, driving him to make bad choices.” At least that was the way I thought about it. I guess it was possible that Daniel had made some of those decisions on his own. But that didn’t matter anymore. “I know he wouldn’t go down that road again. We sacrificed too much to save him. He’d never turn his back on that … on me.”
“My mom says people never really change.” April kept staring far out the window. I wondered if her mom was referring to April’s dad, who’d walked out on them a few years ago.
“If you really believed that, then you wouldn’t have come with me to help find Jude.”
“I guess not.” She was quiet for a moment. “But I still don’t think you should trust Daniel as much as you do.”
“Hmm,” I said, and let silence fill the space between us in the car.
For a while this evening it had felt like we were friends again. I’d missed the way April and I joked around, and the way she drooled after guys and acted like an overexcited puppy most of time. With everyone at school treating me like last week’s gym socks, my mom checked into Hotel
Alternate Reality, Dad leaving all the time, and me trying to keep Charity in the dark about everything, when Daniel wasn’t around, it felt like I had no one to talk to. I could handle the weird stares from people and the whispers behind my back, but I hated the silence that filled so many hours of my day. Not that it was quiet—especially when my superhearing kicked in—it was just that very few people talked to me these days, rather than just about me.
And I missed my best friend.
We were about ten minutes out of the city when I decided to break the silence. I didn’t want quiet anymore. “Those two guys were nasty, right? I can’t believe what happened.”
April perked right up. “Dude, the way you kicked that guy was awesome! Claire and Miya will never believe it … not that I would tell them about it, though. I mean, everyone would freak if we told them about going to The Depot.”
She smiled at me like we had this great secret. It made my heart feel lighter.
“Where’d you learn how to do that?” she asked.
“I’ve been t
raining with Daniel.”
“Training? What for?”
My heart suddenly felt heavier all over again, because I realized that April might know about Daniel and Jude, but she didn’t know about me. She didn’t know that I was infected with a curse that could possibly turn me into a monster. And I didn’t know if I should tell her the truth. It was a pretty big deal to swallow.
What if the truth scared her away just when I was starting to get my best friend back?
But then I remembered how April had accused me of not giving her enough credit. She’d come with me tonight even when she knew how dangerous Jude could possibly be. Part of my heart still stung from the way she’d turned her back on me for the last year—but maybe that wouldn’t have happened at all if I’d just been honest with her from the moment Daniel came home.
I stopped at another red light and put the car in park. It was time to lay it all out on the line. “There’s something I have to show you.” I pushed my sleeve up to my shoulder and exposed the crescent-shaped scar on my upper arm.
“What is that?” April’s face went white. “Have you been … been …?”
“Bitten.”
“God. Daniel bit you? How can you still—?”
“Daniel didn’t bite me. Jude did. He attacked me right after he turned into a werewolf.”
April looked away. She played with one of the sequins on her shirt. “What does this mean? You’re not a werewolf yet, right?”
“No. I’ve been infected with the curse, but I’m not a wolf yet. And I never will be if Daniel and I can help it. He’s training me so I can use my powers to help people. But yes, there is the potential of me becoming a monster.”
A car honked from behind us, and I shifted back into drive. I looked at April for her reaction, almost afraid she’d bolt from the car now that she knew the truth. She was quiet until we’d driven through the intersection, and then she leaned in real close to me. “Are you serious?” she asked. “Are you telling me you’ve got superpowers? ’Cause that’d be pretty much made out of awesome.” She grinned at me and shook in her excited, trembly way.
“Um. Yeah. Kind of. I mean, I’m just learning how to use them, and they’re kind of fickle—but they came in handy tonight, didn’t they?”
“Heck, yeah, they did!” April squealed. “Did you see the look on that guy’s face when he hit the ground? Seriously, that was the coolest thing ever.
He was all like, ‘Come here, defenseless little girl,’ and then you were like, ‘Bam! Take that, suck-face! I’ve got superpowers!’ ”
I laughed. “Um, you’re kind of forgetting about the part where he knocked me down and was about to take my face off.”
“Yes, but that’s why the universe created boys like Talbot. Those other guys practically peed their pants when they saw him.”
“Yeah, didn’t you think that was kind of weird? I mean, what was a guy like Nathan Talbot doing there, anyway? He didn’t exactly mesh with the crowd.”
“Tal,” she said, emphasizing the nickname he’d told her his friends used, “is probably a DD.”
“A what?”
“Part of the designated-driver program at the university. He’s probably like the resident adviser for one of the dorms. I bet he could get those guys kicked out of school for being tools. That’s probably why they backed off, but it’s still cool the way he swooped in to save us like that.”
I cringed. I absolutely hated that someone had had to “swoop in” to save me. I had abilities, and if only I could figure out how to use them the right way, I wouldn’t need some random guy to come to my rescue.
April giggled. “And it doesn’t hurt, either, if your knight in green-and-blue plaid just happens to be hot.”
I laughed. “You know, just because a guy looks nice and seems nice … doesn’t mean he is.” I’d learned that all too well with Pete Bradshaw last year.
“Oh. My. Gosh.” April shouted so loud I slammed on the breaks, thinking we were about to hit a dog or something. But April bounced in her seat with the craziest smile on her face, like she’d just thought of the best idea since nail polish. “Okay, sorry to segue away from the hotness that is
Talbot, but I have to ask: if you’re gonna be a superhero, can I be your sidekick?”
“What?” I gaped at April, hoping she was kidding—but of course, she wasn’t.
“Dynamic Duo,” she crooned, waving her finger between me and her.
“Um, I’m pretty sure sidekicks have to have superpowers, too,” I said gently, sorry to break the news to her.
April’s crazy smile faded. “Oh, yeah.” But then she popped up in her seat again. “Okay, but that doesn’t mean I can’t be your Alfred.”
“My Alfred?”
“You know, I can, like, help you design gadgets and stuff. Oh!” Her eyes went wide. “I can design you outfits for crime fighting!”
“I’m just in training, April. I don’t think I need—”
“Oh, come on, Grace. It would be perfect for my Trenton portfolio. I want to get into their fashion design program, and Katie already has more experience than I do. Please?” April made puppy-dog eyes at me and clasped her hands together.
I couldn’t help laughing. “Okay. Sure. But no spandex.”
April yelped with joy and threw her arms around my shoulders as I drove. I really had no need for superhero costumes or gadgets of any kind, but I guessed this meant we really were best friends again. “At least something good came out of tonight,” I said out loud.
April let go of me and sat back down in her seat. We were just pulling into her neighborhood. “So are you going to tell Daniel about what happened tonight?”
“Good question.” Except I wished she hadn’t brought it up. Any joy I’d felt in the last few minutes faded away as I thought about having to tell
Daniel that I’d broken my word to him and gone looking for Jude on my own. And even if I hadn’t technically been alone … I wasn’t sure I was up for the reaction I’d get when I told him I’d almost gotten maimed in the process. Not to mention that because April and I had caused such a scene at the club, we’d probably ruined any minute chance of finding Jude through that lead.
And I didn’t know why, but for some reason I felt uncomfortable telling Daniel about Talbot’s coming to my rescue. Like maybe he’d worry there was something between this new guy and me when there totally wasn’t.
“I will,” I said to April before she got out of the car. “Eventually.”
CHAPTER TEN
Barriers
SUNDAY MORNING
Church was cancelled for the second week in a row because Dad was still gone. He’d been gone for two and a half weeks straight now—his longest trip yet.
When Mom first started sending him out to look for Jude, he’d always made it a point to be back for Sunday services. I mean, it was bad enough when he missed teaching his Wednesday Bible study class. This was our livelihood, after all.
However, lately, his trips had gotten longer and longer, and today made the fifth Sunday he’d missed in the last twelve weeks, and the third time he’d forgotten—or hadn’t bothered—to make arrangements for someone else to cover for him and give the sermon.
Mom woke up in one of her overbearing manic states, and she made Charity and me call every single one of the parishioners to tell them church was cancelled, and to apologize on my dad’s behalf—even though she was the reason he’d left in the first place. But the thing was, the list of families to call kept getting shorter each time Dad missed a Sunday.
People used to come from all over Rose Crest and Oak Park, and even parts of Apple Valley, to hear the gospel from Pastor Divine. But more and more of Dad’s once loyal parishioners were defecting to Pastor Clark over at New Hope—and every time Dad missed a sermon there were rumblings about the parish needing a new pastor.
The more sympathetic folks I called suggested that Dad bring in a junior pastor who would always be on call to substitute when he was gone—
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and perhaps pick up teaching the religion classes at the school, since Mr. Shumway had quit. But a couple of the more frustrated and rude parishioners grumbled about needing to replace Dad altogether, even if the parish had been in the hands of the Divines for the last three decades. I wondered if they would still feel the same way if I came right out and told them Dad was gone because he was looking for Jude.
I hung up from the last call, expecting to feel drained, but all I felt was anxiety. That was because there was one number I’d dialed seven times without getting an answer—Daniel’s.
Why wouldn’t he pick up the phone?
He’s probably just sleeping, I tried to tell myself. If he’s still sick, then he needs rest and I shouldn’t bother him.
However, tension tingled in my muscles every time my mind drifted to the image of that motorcycle that looked like his parked only a few blocks from The Depot. But it couldn’t have been his bike, could it? What would he have been doing in the city?
No, it wasn’t Daniel’s bike. He was sick in bed—that’s what he said, anyway.
I mean, why would he lie?
I tried to read a book for English class for a while and then tackled the mountain of chores Mom forced on Charity and me even though it was
Sunday. But no matter how much I tried, I couldn’t shake the restlessness in my body. I wanted out of my house. I wanted to go to Daniel.
I wanted to run.
That was one of the things I still hadn’t gotten used to in all of this being-infected stuff—the need to run. I’d never been a runner before. In fact, our tenth-grade gym teacher dubbed April and me the “turtle twins” because we always came in last during the daily mile: April because she didn’t care for sweating, and me because I didn’t care for running. But now I often craved a good run, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to relax all day if I didn’t pound out the aching in my muscles on the pavement—and check on Daniel in the process.
Mom was dressing James in his jacket for an evening trip out to the senior center to visit Mrs. Ludwig and a couple of the other widows from the parish (one of Dad’s Sunday tasks) when I came downstairs in my running clothes and shoes.