“Then I imagine it won’t work if God doesn’t want it to.” Whenever Dad led a prayer circle for someone ill at the parish, he’d always qualify his pleadings to God for that person’s restoration of health with “if it be Thy will.” Dad gave me a reassuring smile as the elevator doors dinged open. “Why would God have granted you this power if he didn’t want you to use it?”
Daniel took my hand, giving it a light squeeze. “It’s worth a try, Grace.”
I looked between Daniel and my father, taking in the hope that brightened their eyes. If we could do this, it suddenly opened up so many possibilities. The things we could do … The people we could help…
“Okay,” I said. I stepped inside the elevator with them, knowing that from this moment on, my life might never be the same again.
THURSDAY EVENING, ABOUT TEN HOURS LATER
I awoke to a mixture of sounds and smells so familiar and pleasant, yet strange and out of place from my current life, that it made my head swim. Little stars danced in front of my eyes as I sat up. I recognized the coral color of my sheets as my eyes focused, and I sighed with relief, knowing I was in my own bed. At home. But I had no idea how I’d gotten here. Couldn’t remember anything except a vague recollection of getting into an elevator with my father and Daniel.
But where were they now?
A chorus of laughter sounded from the main floor of the house, answering my question.
I drew in a deep breath and sifted out the smells that permeated the air of my bedroom. Bacon. Eggs. Pancakes. And the sweet smell of maple syrup being heated over the stove.
Someone was cooking.
No one had cooked in this house since Mom had gone away.
More laughter drifted up the stairs and down the hall into my bedroom. There were too many voices mixed in the chorus for it to just be Daniel and my father. I breathed in again, and caught another now-familiar, underlying scent in the air—that of a dog who’s been lying out in the sun, mixed with the distinct scent of boy. There were werewolves in this house. And not just Daniel. Based on the smell, there were several just down the stairs.
Despite the effort it took just to keep my weak, aching body sitting upright, curiosity got the better of me. Not to mention the gnawing sensation in my stomach triggered by the smell of so much food. When was the last time I’d actually eaten? I dragged myself out of bed, slowly changed into fresh clothes, and tiptoed my way down the stairs—only to find the dining room bursting with people and food.
Daniel, my father, Charity, Baby James, Brent, Ryan, Zach, Slade, and even Talbot were gathered around, dishing up heaping portions from platters piled high with all varieties of breakfast foods that filled every square inch of the table.
“She’s up!” Dad said when he saw me in the entryway.
The crowd at the table cheered.
“Come eat.” Dad waved me into the room.
Both Daniel and Talbot stood when I entered, but it was Daniel who rushed over and threw his arms around my shoulders. He pecked a kiss on my cheek. “How are you feeling? You passed out at the hospital.”
“Tired but starving.” My stomach hadn’t stopped growling since I’d laid eyes on all that food.
“Sit. Eat.” Daniel indicated the empty seat between his spot and Charity. I watched as my sister passed a pitcher of orange juice to tattoo-covered Slade. Little Baby James squealed with delight as he pelted Talbot in the face with a handful of scrambled eggs. Talbot laughed, swatting egg off his baseball cap.
I pinched my arm. Hard. Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do if you think you’re dreaming? My two worlds—the Urbat, and my human family—had finally collided. But instead of the resulting explosion I had expected if that were ever to happen, they were breaking bread together? “What on earth is going on?”
From behind me came the last voice I had expected to hear. “Breakfast for dinner.”
I whirled around to find my mother standing there, holding a tray of steaming French toast. My mouth popped open. How was she here?
“Your favorite,” she said. “I was hoping the smell would rouse you.” I noticed now that her fingers were still quite thin, but other than that, she looked so different from the vacant shell I’d seen when I’d visited her on Monday.
“Mom? But … but…” Fleeting memories trickled into my brain. Daniel and me standing over my mother as she lay in her hospital bed in the psych ward. The feeling of power rushing through my hands. Then I recalled passing out with fatigue onto the hard linoleum floor. “How long have I been asleep?”
“About ten hours,” Daniel said. “I’ve never seen anyone so drained. I don’t think you’re supposed heal two people in one day like that. So don’t go getting ideas that you can go around healing whole wards of people at the hospital at once.”
My cheeks flushed with heat. I had been thinking something like that.
“How are you so okay?” I asked Daniel. He’d been part of both healing sessions, too.
“I slept for a good four hours myself once we got back here. But Grace, you should realize that most of the power came from you. I was just helping. You’re the one who healed your parents.”
“We hear you’re quite the little miracle worker,” Talbot said, his mouth full of egg.
I turned back to my mom and threw my arms around her neck, almost sending the tray of French toast flying. I kissed her cheek.
“I heard what you said,” she whispered into my ear. “When you came to see me a few days ago. You said you needed a mother. That you all did. I know I can’t try to be perfect anymore, but I’m trying my best to be what you need.” I noticed now that even though her hair was washed and cleaned, it hung straight and unstyled around her shoulders, and she wore wrinkled slacks and a blouse under Dad’s kiss the cook apron. Several slices of the French toast on the tray were browner than my mother would have usually deemed “acceptable” in the past, and that made my heart feel lighter.
She wasn’t perfect, but she was Mom.
“Now go eat,” Mom said, shooing us to our seats with an awesomely motherly tone. “Build up your strength.”
“So where’s Aunt Carol?” I asked as I headed for my seat. I realized I’d been gone all day and all night without calling her. I was expecting to get quite the earful about it.
“She left already,” Dad said. “Carol was a little … overwhelmed by our return. Miracles are harder for some people to process.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised if she started claiming you faked the accident just to get a couple days off,” Mom said. I’d never heard her talk so jovially about her sister.
“That’ll go over well with Grandma.” I sat at the table, and the others passed platter after platter of food in my direction. I shoveled chocolate-chip pancakes, eggs, bacon, and slice after slice of French toast into my mouth—filling up the empty pit that had been in my stomach for days.
In fact, the only one—at a table populated with almost all teenage boys—who ate more than me was Slade; he inhaled his food with the fervor of a death-row inmate granted his last supper.
Charity giggled next to me, and I was afraid it was directed at my lack of eating manners, but then I realized she’d locked eyes with Ryan, who sat directly across from her. A wide, goofy grin spread across his face. I picked up a banana-nut muffin and chucked it at him. It bounced off his forehead and landed in an almost-empty plate of bacon. But it had been just the trick to wipe that puppy-dog look off his face. He blinked at me.
“Don’t. Even. Think. About. It.” I picked up a second muffin and held it like a baseball about to be thrown.
“I wasn’t … I mean, I was … But, um … your sister is cute …,” Ryan sputtered, and wiped at the little particles of muffin that clung to his forehead like a bull’s-eye.
Charity turned as red as the raspberry jam on her pancakes.
The others broke into laughter. I acted like I was about to send the second muffin flying, making Ryan flinch. Instead, I took a huge bite and l
eaned my head against Daniel’s shoulder. He wrapped his arm around my back. We laughed with the others for a moment, but my sight lingered on the half-eaten chocolate-chip pancake on his plate. French toast might be my favorite, but Mom’s special pancakes were pretty much one of my older brother’s most favorite things in the world.
Daniel grew quiet next to me. He bent his head closer to mine. “He should be here, shouldn’t he?” Daniel asked quietly, as if he were tuned in to exactly what I was feeling. Which he probably was.
I nodded against his arm.
“Then I think that means you’re ready,” he whispered. “It’s time to make things right with Jude.”
Chapter Twenty-six
MOMENT OF TRUTH
STILL THURSDAY EVENING, AROUND SEVEN THIRTY P.M.
Daniel and I drove slowly to the parish. A very yellow, and almost full, moon rose between the hills of Rose Crest, sending its ghostly light reflecting off the clouds in the night’s sky. It was an oil painting waiting to happen, and I wondered just how long it would be until I’d ever have the time to pick up a paintbrush again.
Daniel parked the Corolla in the empty front parking lot. I realized now that, if everyone was at the house, Jude had probably been left alone all day.
I sighed, hesitant to reach for the car handle.
“You ready for this?” Daniel asked.
“Yes,” I said. “No. Maybe. I don’t know.”
“All of the above?”
“Things didn’t go so great the last time I came to see Jude. I kind of accused him of murdering that nurse at the hospital. You know, the one Pete actually killed?”
Daniel nodded. “Yeah, I can see how that wouldn’t go over all that well.”
“I don’t know what to even say to him anymore. I haven’t even been able to look him in the eyes.”
“Then that’s what I’d lead off with. How do you expect him to ever get better if his own sister won’t even look into his eyes?”
A pang of guilt tugged at my heart. “I know. I think I’ve just been afraid of what I’ll see there.”
“Whatever it is, he can change. Everyone can. I believe that now.”
“Everyone?” I looked into his dark eyes. “Even Caleb?”
Daniel hesitated, then cleared his throat. “Yes … I would have never said that a while ago. There was a time when I thought even I wasn’t capable of changing, but you showed me the way.” He smiled a little. “You were my saving grace. More than once.”
“But someone like Caleb, he’s pure evil. How can you change that?”
“Gelals and Akhs are pure evil. They’re nothing but demons. They have no soul. But Caleb, he’s Urbat. He still has a human heart—which I think also means he still has a human soul. No matter how black it is. I have to believe there is still some light inside of him somewhere. Some spark of humanity. If he decided that he wanted to change—somehow try to make amends for all the horrible wrong he’s done—maybe that means he could still be redeemed.”
“As if he’d want to change,” I said.
“I didn’t say it was likely, but it’s still possible.” Daniel looked out at the parish. “I don’t know, maybe it sounds stupid, but I guess I believe that everyone is capable of changing. It doesn’t mean they will. Nobody can be saved if they don’t want to be.”
“So what about Jude? Do you think he wants to change?”
“There’s only one way to find out.”
I took a deep breath, knowing I couldn’t put it off any longer. “I just hope he’ll even let me speak to him, let alone listen.”
“He’ll listen, Grace. That’s what’s so special about you. Not only can you make people better—like the way you healed your parents—but you make people want to be better. Just remember that what he’s going through is a lot different for him than it is for you.”
“What do you mean?”
“The wolf—the voice you hear, trying to manipulate you—is a hundred times stronger after you’ve already given in to it. It’s always there. Fighting it is a constant decision. Coming home, trying to beat the wolf, trying to make things right with the people I hurt the most were the hardest things I’ve ever done. The wolf was screaming in my head that I could never be forgiven. I don’t doubt Jude is getting a similar treatment.”
Daniel’s words sank into my heart. I don’t think I had realized just how much of a battle he had gone through when trying to overcome the wolf’s hold on him. The battle that Jude was going through now.
“You just need to remind him that he is loved. That he can be forgiven. You’re pretty good at that.”
I felt a lift in my confidence, remembering what I’d done for Daniel once. And what I’d done for Mom and Dad. The kind of power I’d wielded in my own two hands today. It made me feel like a different person now than the one who’d tried to talk to Jude the first time only two days ago.
“Let’s go inside.” Daniel got out of the car and came around to my side. He opened my door for me. “Clear your mind, and I bet the right thing to say will just come to you. Jude isn’t completely lost.”
INSIDE THE PARISH
Our footfalls echoed through the empty stairwell as we made our way down to the parish’s basement. Jude no doubt heard our approach. He stood at the gate of the storage cage when we entered the room.
“What are you doing here?” he snarled at me. “I told you not to come back here.…” His eyes narrowed in on Daniel. He took a sudden step back from the gate. “What is he doing here? Why would you bring him?”
“Hello, Jude,” Daniel said.
Jude bared his teeth. “So the prodigal son returns—again. Did they have a feast for you? Did someone kill a freaking fatted calf in your honor? Because all I got was this damn cage.” Jude grabbed the bars of his cell and rattled the gate.
I glanced at his eyes. They were hard and fierce, like a wolf about to attack. I dropped my gaze.
You shouldn’t have come, the demon in my head snarled. You only make things worse.
“You and I both know you could leave that cage anytime you want,” Daniel said. “I think you stay here because you want to. Because it’s easier to be in there than with the ones who love you.”
Jude let go of the bars. “You know nothing about me.”
“I know more than you’re willing to admit. I’ve been where you are now. Felt what you feel now.”
“Shut up! You don’t know anything. You can go to hell!” Jude spat in Daniel’s direction.
“Jude, please,” I said, trying to calm him down.
“I have nothing to say to you, Grace. I told you I never wanted to see you again.”
“Jude, I’m sorry I accused you of killing that nurse. I can’t believe I did that. It was a horrible thing to do. But I realized that that was my first instinct because I was still so angry with you. I didn’t know what to believe.” I approached the gate, gripping the bars with my hands. I looked my brother right in his silver, glinting eyes. “But I’m telling you now, I forgive you.”
Jude blinked. When his eyes flitted open, I saw what I needed to see. Just the slightest flash of violet as his eyes softened briefly … before they went hard, glinting, silver, and twisted again. Something human still lived and breathed inside my brother. Jude was still there, and he needed to hear what I’d said—even if the demon inside of him would try to refuse it now.
But I was prepared for the fight.
“You forgive me?!” Jude roared. “You. Forgive. Me?” The hinges of the cage squealed in protest as he pulled on the bars. The whole gate would come crashing down if he wanted it to. I was tempted to step back, but I held my ground.
“So do I,” Daniel said, stepping forward next to me.
“How dare you?” Jude asked. “You’re the ones who should be begging me for forgiveness. You’re the ones who did this to me!”
“I’ve said it before,” Daniel said, “and I’ll repeat it a million times if needed: I’m truly sorry for infecting you. I lost contr
ol, just like you’re about to now. I don’t know if I’ll be able to ever fully forgive myself. Not until you forgive me first.”
“That will never happen,” Jude said, but his grip on the bars loosened.
“You’re right, Jude,” I said softly. He looked at me, almost surprised I’d agree with anything he had to say.
“I should beg you for forgiveness. But before I can expect to be forgiven, I need to forgive. So I’m telling you now, again, so you’ll know without a doubt.” I stepped as close to the gate as I could get and leaned my forehead against the bars. “I forgive you.”
“Don’t say that! You have no right to say that! I’m not the one in the wrong. Everything I’ve done is your fault. You two are the ones who did this to me.” He roared and lunged at me as I stood in front of the gate. He grabbed my throat with one of his sinewy hands. “You shouldn’t have come back here.”
“Jude, let go,” Daniel said, caution in his tone. “Don’t hurt her. Don’t go further down this path.”
“The path you started me on?” Jude’s fingernails dug into my skin as he started to squeeze my throat, cutting off my air.
“I’ve forgiven you,” I rasped out, with what little breath I had left. “Now … will you forgive me? Will you forgive yourself?”
I could feel the power pulsating in Jude’s hand. He could have killed me in one second flat—so why was he hesitating now? I looked up at his face, and it was almost possible to see the battle raging inside his head. His eyes flashing silver and then softening into violet over and over again. Strain marred his face, and the veins in his neck protruded.
“Jude!” Daniel shouted. He moved like he was about to intervene physically. I held my hand up to stop him. This was the moment of truth.
Jude’s grip on my neck loosened just enough for me to cough and sputter for air. Just enough to rasp, “Please, Jude. I know you’re still in there. I know you’re my brother.”
“We love you, Jude,” Daniel said. “We want to help you. We want you to come home. To be home. All you have to do is ask and we’re here to help.”