Бри Деспейн: The Lost Saint

The old yellow door was slightly ajar. My palms suddenly went sweaty. Daniel was normally a bit compulsive about keeping his door locked. The hinges groaned as I pushed the door open a little farther.

“Jude?” I called into the studio apartment. The phone had stopped ringing, and the apartment was dark, but I could see a pair of Daniel’s

Converse lying on the ground next to a crumpled pile of laundry. The sofa bed was pulled out but the blanket was missing, and the sheets were halfway off the thin mattress.

“Gracie, wait.” Daniel appeared at the top of the stairs. “That may not have been your brother on the phone.”

“It was him. I’d know his voice anywhere.” I was absolutely, upon threat of death from my father, not allowed to enter Daniel’s apartment with him alone—but I took a step into the doorway anyway. “Jude, are you here?”

“That’s not what I mean.” Daniel limped down the steps. “I mean, Jude may not have been your brother when he was calling. He may have been under the influences of the wolf.”

Once again, Daniel had a point, and I shivered at the reminder of the things my brother had done before while under the control of the wolf. The crescent-shaped scar in my arm twinged, as if to punctuate the memories. But still, if Jude was here, I needed to know. My heart sped up as I took a step inside the apartment.

“Jude?” I flicked the light switch a couple of times. Nothing happened.

My footsteps kept time with my heartbeat as I walked deeper into the dark room. Apprehension tightened in my muscles. Tingling pain spread through my tendons. My body was preparing for something—flight or fight.

I passed the sofa bed, inspecting the crumpled sheets for the phone Daniel said he’d left there. Daniel opened the bathroom door and cautiously eased inside the tiny room. I heard the opening and closing of cabinets, and then the rustling of the shower curtain.

The tingling pain spread to my fingertips, and I tightened my hand around my cell phone. I hit the Redial button once more. I could hear the ringing through my end before the metal tone of Daniel’s phone began. The noise was soft at first, but then it rapidly got louder and closer.

My body whirled on instinct toward the sound. I landed in a crouching position, ready to pounce. A small growl escaped from my lips.

“Whoa, Gracie!” Daniel said. He stood in front of me, his hands up in a defensive position, and his cell phone clutched in one of his fists. “It’s just me. I found my phone in the shower.”

I lunged at him and threw my arms around his neck. “Holy crap, I thought you were … were …” I held my breath and pressed my moonstone necklace to my chest, letting anxiety slowly drain out of my body. I don’t know exactly what I’d thought was behind me. A werewolf with a phone in its jaws? I felt positively ridiculous now.

“It’s okay.” Daniel brushed his fingers through my hair. “Nobody’s here.”

“But someone was here,” I said. “Unless you have a habit of talking on the phone in the shower.”

“Try using your powers to tell if it was Jude,” Daniel said. “Use your senses like I taught you.”

I didn’t have much hope that it would actually work, but I took a deep breath, held the air in the back of my mouth, and tried to let it fill my senses like Daniel had explained to me at least two dozen times in the last few months. I was supposed to be testing the air for hints of my brother, trying to sift out a faint familiar taste or smell beyond Daniel’s almondy scent and the tang of oil paint that always filled his apartment. I let my breath out in a long, frustrated hiss.

Daniel gave me a hopeful look.

I shook my head. I’d failed again.

“It’s okay,” Daniel said. “It’ll come. It just takes time.” That’s what he always said.

“Yeah, I know.” I hoped he wasn’t going to launch into his usual speech about how it takes balance, and how I’m doing great so far, and how most

Urbat take years to develop their powers. “Besides, I don’t even know if I remember what my brother smells like, and I certainly haven’t ever tasted him before.”

Daniel smiled. Lecture averted.

I took his cell phone from him and used my human eyes to inspect it for clues. The face was cracked, like it had been dropped, and I was surprised it still worked. I checked the time and the number of the last call made from the phone. “He definitely called me from this.” I shuddered.

“He was right in here while we were just outside.”

“What did he say?” Daniel asked.

“He said I was in danger. That we were all in danger. He said, ‘They’re coming for you,’ and that I couldn’t stop them. And he said that I couldn’t trust someone else …” I bit my lip and hesitated. “I don’t know, but I think he meant you.”

Daniel crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Sounds like his feelings toward me haven’t changed.” A look of concern settled in his dark brown eyes.

I wondered if he was thinking the same thing as me—that maybe Jude had other intentions for breaking into the apartment. Maybe Jude had thought Daniel would be here alone and vulnerable? But that didn’t make any sense. If he had wanted to attack Daniel, my presence certainly wouldn’t have stopped him. It hadn’t stopped him before.

“Did he say anything else?” Daniel asked.

“No. The call cut off. I think he dropped the phone. He seemed nervous. Maybe his hand was shaking.” Or maybe he’d been about to go through the change.

“Do you think he was messing with you?” Daniel asked. “Maybe this is just some kind of twisted game to him. He never wanted us to be together in the first place.”

“I don’t know.” I looked down at the phone in my hands. “I guess it’s possible. But it doesn’t make sense that he’d come back here just for a practical joke. I think he’s got some other motivation.”

Maybe it was my new wolf instincts taking over again, or maybe it was just some kind of sibling connection, but something deep down told me that Jude was right … we were all in danger. I just didn’t know if he was the one we were all in danger from.

HOME, TWENTY MINUTES LATER

Daniel insisted on following me home on his new—to him, anyway—motorcycle. I drove slowly as I navigated the few miles between my house and

Oak Park, scanning the streets as I went. I slowed every time I came upon a pedestrian, which wasn’t often, since it was after ten o’clock.

I dialed Dad’s cell phone over and over, but it kept going straight to voice mail. What was the point of his finally getting us all cell phones so we can stay connected if he always forgot to charge his? “Call me,” was the message I left each time. Considering how much energy he’d put into looking for Jude over the past few months, I didn’t want to just tell Dad on his voice mail about his being back. That was the kind of thing you sprang on someone in person, preferably when they were standing—okay, sitting—right in front of you.

Chaos was the only word that could describe the scene that met us when I opened the front door to my house. The ten o’clock news blared from the family room, like someone had turned it up to full volume to hear the anchorman speaking over the sounds of James’s wailing as he thrashed in

Charity’s arms on the stairs. It looked like she was trying to haul him up to his bedroom, but the toddler flailed so hard they were both in danger of falling down the steps.

The vibration of the sound suddenly burst tenfold inside my head. I winced and clasped my hands over my ears. Great time for my superhearing to decide to pay me a visit. “What’s going on?” I called over the din. “I put James to bed two hours ago.” I’d made sure James was tucked in for the night and Charity was started on homework before I’d left for the evening. It was the least I could do with Dad being gone.