The Savage Grace

  I’d all but forgotten that Pete and I had not only been chem lab partners, but also friends, before things changed between us. Before I realized what kind of violent person lurked under his letterman’s jacket and that “triple-threat smile.” Before he agreed to help Jude try to turn me against Daniel. Before the night my car broke down in the city and he tried to trick me into thinking I was being stalked by the Markham Street Monster—just so he could pretend to be my hero. Before he attacked me in the alley between the school and parish the night of the Christmas dance.

  But it wasn’t my fault he’d lost control. I wasn’t the one who made him an entitled jerk who thought he could have whatever—or whoever—he wanted. I wasn’t the one who made him get drunk and attack me the night of the Christmas dance.… And he obviously hadn’t learned his lesson very well. He and his friends had jumped Daniel a couple of weeks ago. And who knows what he would have tried to do to me that night I ran into him at the Depot.

  The night he was later brutally beaten into a coma.

  But he deserved it.

  “No,” I told the wolf’s voice. There had been a moment when the wolf had succeeded in convincing me that what had happened to Pete was perfectly deserved. But it was the same afternoon that I had almost lost complete control myself—when the wolf in my head propelled me to Daniel’s doorstep and I practically attacked him in my frenzy.

  You’re no better than Pete. Daniel should hate you for what you almost did to him. No wonder he wants to leave you.

  The wolf was overwhelming sometimes in how quickly it could change its tactics, glomming onto any doubt that flitted through my mind. Clawing me apart from the inside.

  Pete and I are different, I tried to tell myself. I’d almost lost control because there was a beast inside my head driving me to hurt the ones I love. Pete didn’t have that excuse. He was perfectly human.

  Yet he was still a monster.

  The image of Pete lying on that hospital bed, being jolted with electricity by the doctor, flashed in my head. His face had looked so different today. Like a distorted mask of who he used to be. So lifeless and pale. Pete did the things he did of his own accord, but he still didn’t deserve to die. For the last year, I’d told myself that I had forgiven him for all the things he’d done to me, but had I really?

  And now it was too late.…

  What would happen if I waited too long to forgive everyone else?

  NIGHTMARE

  I must have fallen asleep eventually in the stack of books and papers on my bed, because one moment I was reading, and the next I found myself standing in the alley where Pete had attacked me the night of the Christmas dance. I wore my white dress with the violet sash, and I could feel the cold night air on my skin, even though I knew I was just dreaming.

  It wasn’t one of my pleasant dreams of Daniel. It was a nightmare, I realized, when I saw that I wasn’t alone in the alley. Pete was there, just as angry and dangerous as he’d been that terrible night. The fear and desperation to get away from him felt just as real, too. The dream progressed, and I relived more of that horrific night. Don Mooney stabbing Pete, then almost suffocating me in an effort to quiet my screams. Daniel coming to my rescue, and then the two of us trying to hunt down Jude and lead him away from the school dance before he was overtaken by the werewolf curse. In my nightmare, I was forced to reexperience the moment when Jude found us on the roof of the parish, and I watched again as he pitched Daniel’s moonstone off the roof. I remembered the way Daniel had arched his head back and howled a scream.…

  EARLY TUESDAY MORNING

  I shot bolt upright in my bed, my legs and arms tangled in my sheets. The sky outside my window was a purply early-morning gray. I thought it was the noise of Daniel’s scream that had awoken me from my terrible dream, but then the noise sounded again, and I realized it was the ring of my cell phone next to my bed.

  I had no idea who would call so early in the morning, but I was grateful for the reprieve from my nightmare. Part of me wondered if being forced to relive that horrific night was God’s way of punishing me for neglecting Him for so long. I grabbed my phone and flipped it open without checking the caller ID.

  “Hello,” I said groggily.

  “Grace,” came April’s voice. It sounded even shakier than usual. “Have you seen the news yet this morning?”

  “No, it’s”—I checked the clock—“barely six a.m.”

  “I got up early to make some breakfast for Jude. He was really upset last night, and I thought if I brought him something homemade, it might help him feel better. But I turned on my mom’s radio in the kitchen … and I heard a report about something that happened at City Hospital…” She sounded too upset to finish her sentence.

  “What?” Something about my dad? Please don’t let it be something about my dad!

  “A woman was found dead in the parking lot of the hospital. Near that grove of trees on the west side. An ICU nurse.”

  “What?” I felt a rush of relief that it wasn’t news about my dad, and sudden panic at what this might mean. “Do they know what happened?”

  “They’re saying it was a wild-animal attack.”

  This was bad. Very. Very. Bad. I’d heard what Deputy Marsh had said about one more attack being all the justification he needed to get a hunting party together. Even if the attack had been all the way in the city, with two people dead now, I didn’t see that stopping those hunters from going after Daniel.

  Suddenly, I remembered seeing the white wolf watching me from that same grove of trees last night when I left the hospital. But no, it couldn’t be.… He wouldn’t. … Whatever Daniel was now, I didn’t sense any malevolence in him.

  “What time did they say it happened?”

  “Just after midnight.”

  “Thank goodness.” Daniel had been back in Rose Crest by then. We’d heard him howling just before ten p.m. Gabriel said he’d stay with him through the night. I could prove it wasn’t him if I had to.

  And then another thought hit me. What if someone was trying to make it look like Daniel had done it … like the way my brother had staged those attacks last year to frame Daniel…

  I shook my head. Dreaming of Jude’s misdeeds all night long must have made me paranoid this morning. Jude was locked up, after all. He would have been at the parish all last night, with Zach and Ryan guarding him and everything.

  “I need … I need to tell you something, Grace.” “What is it?”

  “I let Jude out last night.”

  “You did what?”

  “He was so upset about your dad. He begged me to let him go see him. I just couldn’t say no. I sent Zach and Ryan away, and then I let Jude out. He promised he’d come back. He said he wouldn’t be gone longer than two hours. He swore to me he’d just check in on your dad and come right back.”

  “Did you stay there to make sure he did?”

  “No. My mom called and got real mad because I was out past my ten thirty curfew. I left, and I have no idea if he…” She took in a gulp of air. “Gracie, do you think Jude could have done this?”

  A nurse at my father’s hospital had been killed, and my brother had been loose at the same time. He was probably still loose now—doing heaven only knows what. Every fear I’d had about Jude since the moment he claimed he wanted to come home came crashing in on me.

  “Yes.” I snapped my phone shut and sprinted from my house, headed toward the parish.

  I had to see the evidence for myself.

  Chapter Thirteen

  DEBTS UNPAID

  A FEW SHORT MINUTES LATER

  My ankle had healed considerably with almost a full night’s sleep, but I still couldn’t run at my top speed because too much of Rose Crest was already out and about this morning. It felt like torture slowing my pace down enough just to look like someone out for a morning jog—which I realize now probably would have been more convincing if I’d bothered to put on shoes before bolting from the house. And I was still wearing the pair of pa
le green scrubs I’d changed into at the hospital.

  I ran past Mr. Day, who was setting up a display outside his shop, and then rounded onto Crescent Street. When I was sure no one else was around, I kicked up my speed and flew across the parish’s parking lot and into the building. I pounded down the stairs into the darkened basement without stopping to turn on any lights.

  What am I going to do if Jude isn’t here?

  What am I going to do if he is?

  I ran right up to the storage cage and grabbed the iron bars of the gate with both hands. The gate was closed and bolted by a thick padlock, but the two “watchmen” chairs outside the cage sat empty.

  “Jude?” I called into the dark cell. “Jude!”

  I heard a moan. Something shifted deep inside the storage cage.

  “Grace?”

  I blinked several times and focused my powers into my eyes until I felt that familiar popping sensation behind my pupils. My night vision sharpened in the dark, and I was able to see Jude as he sat up on the narrow cot in the far corner of the cage. His long hair was disheveled, and he rubbed his eyes like he’d been in a deep sleep before I came crashing in on his slumber. “I thought you might finally come today.” He blinked and scrubbed his hand down the side of his face. “What time is it?”

  He was here! Asleep. Jude had come back. That had to mean something.

  He’s just covering his tracks, hissed the wolf. Tricking you into thinking he’s innocent.

  “Did you do it?” I asked. “Did you kill that nurse at the hospital?”

  Jude squinted at me. “What are you talking about? What nurse? I’ve been here in this place,” he indicated the cage bars, “since you decided I needed to be locked up.”

  “Don’t lie to me. April told me she let you out last night. I know you went to the hospital. And now there’s a dead nurse. She was killed by a wild animal just after midnight.”

  Jude shot up from the cot and stormed over to the gate. He clutched the bars, his hands just above mine.

  “And that’s your first thought? That I did it?”

  He slammed his hand against the iron bars. The gate rattled in my face. I realized then that the padlock was just a formality. He could tear this gate off its hinges if he wanted.

  I didn’t back away, but I couldn’t look him in the eyes. I was too afraid of what I might see. “Answer my question. Did. You. Do. It?”

  “Would I have come back here if I did?”

  “You tell me. What happened last night?”

  “I went straight to the city, looked in on Dad, and then came right back here. I didn’t talk to anyone—and certainly didn’t kill anyone—while I was gone. I was back here by eleven.” He jabbed his finger at the little TV Dad had set up in the cell for him. “I can reenact the late Show for you if you want. That actor April is always going on about did a tap dance on the host’s desk and accidentally kicked a coffee mug onto a supermodel. It was a real riot,” he said with a bitter bite in his voice.

  I let go of the bars. “I just needed to know.”

  “Nice, Grace. I’ve been back for over a week, and the first time you come to see me, you accuse me of murder. When Daniel was back for that same amount of time, you were trying to kiss him. I’m glad to know where I stand with you.”

  His words were so true they stung like a fresh slap. I stepped back from the gate. “Jude, I’m—”

  “Get out,” he snarled.

  “Jude, please.”

  “Get out of here!” he screamed, and slammed both of his hands against the gate. The hinges groaned. “Don’t come back here again. If you think I’m such a wild animal, then you’d better keep the hell away from me.”

  “Jude—”

  “Out!” he roared, looking like he was about to tear down the gate.

  I stumbled back toward the stairs and scrambled my way back up to the foyer.

  JUST AFTER SUNRISE

  I sat on the steps outside the parish, watching the sun silently change the sky above the hills of Rose Crest from a purple-gray into a crisp bright yellow that contrasted starkly with my black mood. I hated myself for jumping to such a terrible conclusion about Jude.

  So much for trying to make peace.

  Only I knew that I would be immensely stupid for not suspecting him right off—especially if he really did turn out to be the killer.…

  Gah! There I went again.

  It had to mean something that he’d come back after being let out last night.

  Perfect alibi, whispered the wolf.

  And what did it mean that all this time he could have ripped off the gate and escaped—yet he allowed himself to be locked up?

  He’s fooling you.

  Urgh. I clasped the moonstone pendant in my fingers and pushed the wolf’s voice from my mind.

  If it hadn’t been for that terrible dream last night—reliving the night Jude fell to the werewolf curse—making me so paranoid in the first place, I might have been able to be more rational before storming in on him with my accusations.

  What was the point of that dream anyway?

  Why would my subconscious—or Daniel, or whoever or whatever was trying to communicate with me through my REM cycle—want me to relive what happened that night on the roof of the parish?

  Maybe god really is punishing me.…

  Or perhaps Daniel was still desperately trying to tell me to look for the moonstone in the parish yard. He didn’t know that I already had it. That it hung from my neck now.

  But it was clear I wasn’t ready to use it.

  The anger I’d felt last night—the way I’d wanted to lash out at my own mother, and the damage I’d wanted to inflict on Talbot when I learned of his deceit—scared me. It was consuming me the way Gabriel said it would—and I’d unleashed it once again on my own brother just now.

  I was driving everyone away from me.

  I pressed the moonstone pendant tight in my palm. I might even still lose Daniel before I was able to change him back.

  Perhaps I really would end up all alone with the just the wolf inside my head.

  Chapter Fourteen

  WANDERER

  LATER

  I didn’t know what to do with myself now. It was a school day, but I couldn’t bear the thought of sitting through classes or talking with friends who felt more like strangers with each passing moment. Instead, I spent the next few hours wandering from place to place like a stray pup looking for shelter. I remember going home to shower and change. Then somehow I was in the driveway of Maryanne Duke’s old house. Then I was standing in the concrete stairwell that led to the basement apartment where Daniel had lived until he’d taken to the forest. I must have stood there long enough to look lost, because Zach poked his head out one of the main floor windows, almost scaring me half to death, and asked if I was okay.

  “Yeah,” I said. “Will a couple of you go sit with Jude? We had a run-in, and I don’t think he should be alone.”

  “Sure thing,” Zach said. He almost looked happy to have an order, reminding me that his former alpha had treated him like a soldier instead of a boy.

  I slowly walked down the steps and unlocked the old yellow door to Daniel’s apartment. I stood in the middle of his room for a few minutes, soaking in the fading scent of him there. I willed my hands and feet to move again, and I picked up a few of his notebooks from his desk, and found his half-filled-out Trenton application neatly stored in its envelope. I took that and his beat-up laptop, and stuffed them into the satchel bag I’d brought along. Next, I sorted through the stacks of Masonite boards and stretched canvas that leaned against his wall, choosing the best of his paintings and designs. I hoped they’d be the same ones he would have chosen for his Trenton portfolio. My chest felt so tight as I pulled the apartment door closed behind me when I left, thinking about how the things I took with me would be the only traces of Daniel’s human side left in this world if I failed to change him back.

  My next stop was the hospital, where I alterna
ted between sitting next to Dad’s bed, holding his too-still hand, for the twenty minutes of each hour I was allowed in his hospital room, and standing outside the elevator that would lead me up to my mother’s room in the psych ward.

  When I couldn’t stand the beep of Dad’s heart monitor or the ding of the elevator anymore, I went to the hospital cafeteria and found an empty table where I could set up Daniel’s laptop. Between flipping through his notebooks and poking around in his computer files, I found six different drafts of his Trenton essays.

  They were good but unfinished. I chose the best and filled in the gaps, channeling the things Daniel had always told me about wanting to use his talents to improve people’s lives. I only hoped my words could do his passion justice.

  Crowds of diners came and went, and I was about to log off the computer and head back to Dad’s room again when I noticed a Word file titled: for grace.

  I hovered the curser over the file, wondering what it could possibly contain. Wondering how Daniel would feel if he knew I opened it. Wondering if I could stand not to.

  It said it was for me, after all.

  I tapped the touch pad and opened the file, knowing I wouldn’t be able to do anything until I knew what Daniel had left for me. What I found was a poem.

  For grace—

  I was walking in the cool night air

  Watching simple leaves gusted off

  Blown by the same wind that blows through my window

  like thoughts filling boxes in crowded basements

  Self-inflicted thoughts

  Sorted cards and picture books

  Jumbled thoughts of you

  Walking slowly and thinking clearly

  I was watching the moon rise and fall

  Thinking about bare feet and candlelight walks

  About soup-filled dreams

  Smooth silk hands and violet eyes

  Smelling the night air and waiting for my mind to stop

  Waiting and watching as the stars rolled on

  You came then and stopped the stars

  Pulling the moon from the sky with those words—