Бри Деспейн - The Lost Saint

I woke up with a splitting headache and the sensation of being carried by someone—cradled in his arms like a puppy. Which I imagined was preferable to the way the two burly guys beside me dragged Talbot by his arms along the concrete floor.

I could tell by the faint moaning noise that emanated from his mouth that he was somewhat conscious. But not conscious enough to help heal his wounds, since blood still oozed from the gash in his forehead, matted in his eyebrows, and dripped into his eyes. For some reason it really bothered me that no one wiped the blood from his face.

I was still woozy, and I tried to lift my arms to brush my hair out of my face—and that was when I realized my hands were bound behind my back with some kind of cording. I tried to move my legs, but they were bound, too. I started to struggle against the arms that held me, but they only squeezed me tighter—I wasn’t being cradled; I was being held captive.

Faint music vibrated from somewhere nearby—voices, too. I tried to shout, but my tongue felt thick and heavy. I tasted blood in my mouth. I must have bitten my tongue when that Gelal knocked me out. But I could still taste the sourness of Gelal, the distinct smell of dog, and the bile-inducing stench of Akh. The mixture was so foul I almost contemplated biting my tongue harder.

Instead, I mustered up what little human strength I had and screamed, as loud and as long as I could. When I was done, the only reaction I heard was one of the guys next to me laughing.

“They won’t hear you over the music,” Jude said. I realized now he was the one carrying me. “And even if they did, no one would care. The

Shadow Kings own this place.”

“Where are we?”

Jude didn’t answer. But we were underground—that much I could tell from the weight of the air and the utter lack of natural light. Just a few bare bulbs hung from the ceiling, casting sinister shadows along the corridor. We turned a corner, and the music died away. Then we went through a doorway and into what seemed to be a freight elevator.

Are we in a warehouse?

The elevator jostled to a start and traveled in an upward motion. The gatelike door opened, and Jude carried me out of the elevator. The air felt lighter here but smelled much worse. I blinked at the harsh fluorescent lights, taking in the sounds and sights around me. There was a staircase above us, and as Jude carried me around it, I looked up and saw that the stairs led to a balcony and an upper office with darkened windows.

In front of me was an expansive room that appeared to be part warehouse, part frat house. The center of the room was empty, but a plasma TV about the size of a truck stood in the corner. It was surrounded by sofas and beanbag chairs. Nearby was a pool table, and along the opposite wall was a tall row of warehouse shelving. Four shelves high, and five shelves wide. Each was covered in a thin mattress and blanket—like someone had made bunk beds out of them.

But what startled me most were the fourteen or so teenage guys who filled those sofas and beanbags, lounged on the bunk beds, and played pool. I recognized one of the guys at the pool table as the rough-looking gamer who had gotten into a fight with that Tyler kid over a video game at

The Depot. The one who had probably killed him.

Jude shouted something that sounded like a command, and suddenly all the guys in the room dropped what they were doing and jumped up.

They stood at attention like soldiers whose captain had just entered their barracks.

My wolfy senses were already tingling, but my whole body shuddered with foreboding as I surveyed the pack of guys. At least four of them were

Akhs—I could tell from their talonlike fingernails—and based on the smell, at least five of them were Gelals. I guessed that made the remaining six Urbats.

This was it. I’d found the gang—just not in the way I had intended.

I was a prisoner in the den of the Shadow Kings.

Most of the guys stood stiff like large, tattooed boards, with their heads bowed. Others looked somewhat alarmed at the sight of Talbot and the way the Gelal dragged him to the center of the room. The smallest of the boys, who had been playing a video game on a giant TV, looked like he was barely fourteen. He locked eyes with me for a moment, curiosity painting his expression, but then he turned away when Jude growled at him.

Jude carried me to the center of the warehouse floor and dumped me unceremoniously on the ground. I landed hard, unable to brace myself, next to Talbot, who knelt with his head bowed so low it almost touched the floor.

“We’ve returned, Father,” Jude shouted in the direction of the balcony that overlooked the warehouse floor. “And it was just as I thought. Talbot was trying to help her escape.”

I glanced sideways at Talbot, not wanting to take my full sight off the shadowed balcony above us. Had he really been trying to help me?

Talbot’s shoulders sagged, but then he lifted his chin and looked up to the balcony. The cut on his forehead had finally started to heal. “Jude was wrong,” he called to whomever was up there. “I was bringing the girl to you. It was Jude’s interference that almost helped her get away.” He pushed himself up as tall as he could on his knees. “I would never fail you, Father. I have served you faithfully for many months. I watched the girl for weeks, as you commanded. Set up this whole charade. Got rid of her original teacher when he started to ask too many questions. Disposed of the van driver she was supposed to work with and took his place. She trusted me, and I had her right where we wanted her.” He lifted his chin with pride. “I am your Keeper—your most devoted. How could some worthless girl change that? She is nothing to me.”

Talbot’s words burned. This situation was horrid enough, but hearing what he really thought about me—realizing all he’d done—felt like pouring acid on a fresh cut. Talbot was probably the one who had tried to kill Pete Bradshaw. But for what purpose, I didn’t know. And what had he done with my real driver and poor Mr. Shumway?

The only thing that confused me more than Talbot’s betrayal was Jude’s involvement in all of this. I’d thought Jude was being held captive by the gang—forced to do their bidding against his will. But according to the scene unfolding before me, Jude wasn’t a prisoner here. Talbot was the gang’s beta, but Jude definitely had some influence or control. Could I possibly hope that he was just biding his time until he could use that influence to help me escape?

I’d broken rule number one—I’d dropped my guard in so many ways the last couple of weeks. With the wolf. With Talbot. With Jude. And now I was paying the price.

“Talbot lies,” Jude said to the person I assumed was up on the balcony. “He cares for her. They were planning on running away.”

“What Jude heard me say was only my plan to get the girl to trust me. Which would have worked if he hadn’t shown up and made a mess of things. I do not need to be second-guessed in my methods.” He turned his glare on Jude. “How bad did you screw this all up? Did you even bother to leave an effective trail behind you?”

Jude glared at Talbot. “Of course I did.”

“Enough!” snarled a voice from up above us. It echoed off the warehouse walls. Something about that voice made me want to sink into the ground. Made me feel exposed, ripped open. “Talbot goes free. Jude, take the girl to the room. Then come to me so we can discuss your interference.”

Jude ducked his head like a scolded pup. “Yes, Father.”

Talbot smirked at Jude as two of the Gelals stepped forward and cut the cording from his wrists and ankles. He stood up and stretched, and the wound on his forehead healed over. He turned to face the teen boys who still watched us with rapt attention.