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Authors: Bree Despain

The Lost Saint (27 page)

BOOK: The Lost Saint
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I was almost through the door when Gabriel called after me. “Remember, Grace. If you let anger into your heart, it will push out your ability to love.”

C
HAPTER
E
IGHTEEN
Dances with Wolves
SUNDAY EVENING

Daniel didn’t call me back, but
several
hours later he sent a text:

Sorry. Can’t talk now. Will call you tonight
.

Whatever
, I texted back. The longer the hours had stretched without hearing from him, the more I
didn’t
want to talk to him. Or so I told myself.

I’m sorry! Okay? Can’t explain now. Call you later
.

I held my phone for a moment, wondering what to say back. Here I was trying to act normal for him when he was still keeping something from me. It made me feel angry—and like a hypocrite of the worst kind. But most of all, it just made me feel empty. I opened my drawer and was about to drop my phone in when it started ringing in my hand. I answered without looking at the display, expecting it to be Daniel
calling, even though he claimed he couldn’t.

“Hey, kid. You ready for some real action?” Talbot asked.

A rush of excitement swept my empty feeling away. “Depends on what you have in mind.”

“Staking out The Depot. I’ve got it on good authority that a couple of the Shadow Kings will be there tonight. I think we should follow them and see if they lead us anywhere interesting.”

My heart swelled with excitement at the idea, only to deflate two seconds later. “Tonight? I can’t. My mom’s on the warpath. I told her I had to write a report to get out of hot gluing any more handmade price tags for that festival I told you about. You should have seen the blisters I had to heal on my fingers. I think I’m stuck in my room all night—”

“You mean to tell me that I haven’t taught you enough stealth yet to be able to sneak out of your own house?” Talbot asked. “Maybe you aren’t ready for a real mission after all.”

“No … I can do it. I just don’t know that I should.”

“This is just another part of the superhero gig, Grace. Most crime happens after curfew. If you want to find Jude, then you have to start letting go of the inhibitions that are holding you back.”

I stroked my moonstone necklace with my fingers. “I do want to find Jude.”

“Good. Meet me outside the club at ten o’clock. That should give us enough time to get into position before anyone of importance shows up.”

“But—”

“I want you here with me, Grace.”

At least somebody does
. “Okay. I’ll meet you there.”

“Great.” I could hear the smile in his voice. “Oh, and Grace?”

“Yeah?”


Don’t
wear those vinyl pants again. We’re trying not to stand out.”

THAT NIGHT

At eight forty-five p.m., I went downstairs and got a glass of water, slipped my keys to the Corolla off the kitchen counter, and tucked them in my pocket, all the while making a big deal out of how tired I was, and how I should go to bed early because I had a big test in the morning. Dad snored in his recliner in the family room with a book leaned against his chest, but I said good night to my mom. She barely even acknowledged me over the stack of homemade price tags she’d crafted out of scrapbook paper for the Halloween fund-raiser. I trudged back up to my room, yawning the entire way just for good measure.

At nine p.m., I pulled my hair into a high ponytail and changed into black jeans and a black long-sleeved
T-shirt (what else are you supposed to wear on a stakeout?) and then propped a couple of pillows under my comforter to make it look like I was tucked in bed. (Lame, I know. But sneaking out wasn’t exactly my forte.) Then I popped open the screen on my second-story window and climbed out on the eave of the roof. I stood on the edge and scanned the street, making sure no one was around. When I was sure the coast was clear, I dove off the roof, did a double flip midair, and landed with hardly a sound near the walnut tree. I felt a thrill of triumphant pride at pulling off the stunt, and almost wished someone had been there to see me.

Luckily, the Corolla was parked in the driveway, and by nine fifteen, I was backing out onto the road. The car rattled and shook the whole way there, and I prayed that it wouldn’t stall at each stoplight, but I made it to The Depot just before ten p.m. I stayed put in the car until Talbot pulled up and parked beside me in a pickup truck—blue with rust spots, and looking like it had done plenty of farm hauling in the last couple of decades.

We both got out of our cars and stood on the sidewalk together. Talbot wore a white-and-gray flannel shirt, which actually looked like it had been ironed, tucked into boot-cut jeans. He was without his baseball cap for the first time since I’d met him, and he’d combed his wavy milk-chocolate-brown hair back behind his ears. He hooked his fingers in his belt loops next to his large bronze marshal-star belt buckle.

I rocked back on my heels. “So … did you bring treats?”

Talbot scrunched his eyebrows. “For what?”

“Aren’t we supposed to sit in a car and eat lots of junk food and guzzle coffee while on a stakeout?”

“You watch way too much TV.” He lightly touched my arm. “And besides, why would we sit out here in a car if we can have more fun inside?”

“Fun? Inside?” I gave him an incredulous stare.

“Come on.” He slipped his fingers down my arm, grabbed my hand, and pulled me across the street and down the alley between the train station and the old warehouse. He dug a keycard out of his pocket and used it to get us in through the door. We descended the stairs into the cloud of music and fog. I hesitated at the bottom step. I wasn’t sure I wanted to go into this place again. Talbot seemed to sense my reason for hanging back. He gave me a reassuring nod and let go of my hand and wrapped his arm around my waist as he steered me through the entrance.

“Just for show,” he said, his lips brushing my ear. “No one is going to hassle you this time if they know you’re with me.” He held me tight against his side and headed deeper into the club. And just like on the night I had come here with April, people seemed to practically jump out of Talbot’s way as he headed toward the dance floor. Guys nodded in his direction, and girls gave me envious scowls. I didn’t know what it was—his
wolf pheromones, perhaps—but he seemed to have a commanding presence in this place. So much so that my breath caught in my chest when he slid his fingers along my arms and entwined his hands with both of mine.

I looked up into his emerald green eyes. “What are you doing?” I whispered.

“Dance with me,” he said, and then pulled me into the dancing throng.

It was a quick, pulsating song, the kind of music that swallowed you whole, and I couldn’t help being sucked into the gyrating motion of the crowd. Talbot danced with that same sort of commanding energy—not like a farm boy at all, more like he was made for this sort of music. Like he owned this dance floor. His body moved with the pulsing rhythm close to mine, our hands touching, and then not. My heart raced. I couldn’t help but stare into his piercing eyes. Almost like he held me in an Akh-like trance.

We danced two songs this way, but then the music shifted into something slower and more sensual. With a smooth, swift movement Talbot wrapped my arms around his neck and then placed his arms around my waist. He pulled me close, his hands pressing against the small of my back. I recognized the hungry glint in his eyes. It was the way Daniel used to look at me.

I felt a sudden tightness in my throat. I turned my head away and surveyed the crowd, wondering who we were supposed to be looking for. When I glanced back
at Talbot, he still stared down at me with unblinking intensity.

“Aren’t we supposed to be watching out for the Shadow Kings?” I asked.

“We will. But I doubt they’ll be here for another hour or two.” His voice had a soft growl to it—almost like a contented purr.

“An hour or two? Why did we get here so early, then? And I thought we weren’t supposed to stand out.”

“What better way to blend in than to pretend we’re having fun?” Talbot’s large hands slid to my hips. He held me close against him. “You look great tonight, by the way. Kind of ‘spy chic’ or something. Perfect for kicking some demon butt later on.” He sighed and then nuzzled his nose against the top of my head. “Perfect night, don’t you think? We may even have time to grab a bite to eat from the bar before the SKs get here.”

I shivered, even though it was far from cold on the dance floor. I couldn’t help thinking that this
would
seem like the perfect night to someone like Talbot: a little dancing, a little dinner, and a little demon slaying for dessert. I thought about his pressed shirt, styled hair, and even the splash of musky cologne I could smell on his neck. I let my arms fall from his shoulders and took a step back. “Talbot, are we on a date?”

Talbot gave me a look like he thought I was totally insane. He dropped his hands from my hips. “Um, no. It’s called surveillance. We’re blending in.” He shoved
his thumbs into his belt loops. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I thought you’d be up for playing the part.” Then he gave me a sheepish, dimpled grin. “But if this
were
a date, would that be so bad? We can make it one if you want.”

I sighed. “I have a boyfriend. You know that.”

“Then why isn’t he the one here with you, helping you?”

“It’s more complicated than that.… And you’re my mentor. I can’t cross that line if you’re going to be training me.”

Talbot’s shoulders dropped. He stared over my head.

“I’m sorry. I don’t want to upset you. But this isn’t going to work if we’re not on the same page about—”

Talbot shook his head and laughed. He rocked back on his heels. “Oh, come on, I’m just teasing you, kid. You’re so self-absorbed. I’d say it was cute, but you’d probably think I was hitting on you.”

“Nice,” I said sarcastically, but I couldn’t help thinking he was just trying to cover.

Talbot laughed again. “We don’t have to dance if you have a problem with that. How about I go get us a couple of drinks and we can wait for the SKs over at one of the tables?”

“I don’t drink. Well, I mean, I drink … like water and stuff. But you know, I don’t
drink.” Could I seem any more lame this evening?

“Well, I don’t make it a habit to buy alcohol for
minors.
” Talbot put an emphasis on that last word, as if reminding me that I was at least three or four years younger than he was. “But I imagine a Coke wouldn’t bother your sensibilities.”

“Sounds good.”

Talbot shook his head and sauntered off toward the bar. I stood on the edge of the dance floor and watched as a couple at the bar moved aside so Talbot could order our drinks before them. He glanced back at me and winked. I blushed and turned away. I rubbed my arms, trying to warm the goose bumps that prickled up on my skin even though it was hot and sticky in the club.

I felt a hand on my shoulder and looked up, surprised that Talbot had returned with our drinks so fast, but the shiver that had caused my goose bumps transformed into a full-on shudder when I saw who stood right next to me.

“So you’ve finally decided to see what it’s like to party with a real man,” he said, and tried to wrench me back onto the dance floor.

“Let go, Pete.” I yanked my hand out of his grasp. It folded into a tight fist on instinct. Power coursed through my veins. About five different aikido moves that could make him cry like a baby flashed through my mind. He’d deserve it, too, for getting Daniel in trouble with the police. “Get lost before you’re sorry.”

“I haven’t forgotten that you like it rough.” Pete
gave me a smile that was even smarmier than his ugly goatee. I wanted to claw both of them right off his stupid face. My fingernails bit into the palm of my hand, I was trying so hard not to lash out at him. I could probably take his face off if I wanted to.

Then do it
, a voice snarled in my mind.
Teach him never to mess with you again
. I shook my head. Sometimes, lately, my thoughts didn’t even sound like me. I backed away from Pete.

BOOK: The Lost Saint
3.8Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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