Page 23 of The Savage Grace


  “What’s the deal with the robes?” Jude asked from behind me. “They look like a bunch of wizards.”

  “My hypothesis,” Brent said. “They’re either for ceremony or post-transformation convenience.”

  “Post what?” Slade said.

  “You know, the whole naked factor. Normal clothes never survive the transformation from human to wolf, which means you’re always naked when you go back to being human. The robes are quite clever. Easily discarded before transformation, and there for the convenience of covering up your … stuff, when you change back.”

  Slade laughed. “I like the way they think. Waking up somewhere with a bunch of naked guys has always been my least-favorite part of this werewolf gig.”

  “Brent’s right on both accounts,” Daniel said. “During my time with Sirhan’s pack, they always wore the robes when they thought a fight might break out. And they wore their brightly colored ceremonial robes to impress us.”

  “I’m always right,” Brent said, flexing his muscles; I’m not sure how that had anything to do with being smart. “Which is why,” he pointed at Ryan, “you should totally pick those blisters, like I said.”

  Ryan lifted his fingers toward the blistered spearhead-shaped wound on his face. “Are you sure?”

  I swatted Ryan’s hand away from his face. “Don’t touch it. You don’t want it to scar. Brent’s just being … well, Brent.”

  “Can’t you work your healing magic on it?” Ryan asked me, and then shot a glare at Brent. “It burns like a mother—”

  “Watch your language,” I snapped. “We’re in a church.” Bleh. I sounded way too much like my mom. I was glad she, April, and my siblings—the humans other than Dad, who had insisted on coming along—had been allowed to stay at the house. “It’s caused by silver, which means I can’t do much to heal it.”

  “I told you,” Zach said to Ryan. “That’s why nothing happened when you tried to heal it yourself.”

  “Pick at it,” Brent said, a little too much glee mixed in with his sarcasm. “You know what a cool scar that would be?”

  I rolled my eyes.

  “Hey, freak!” someone shouted in our direction. I looked up just in time to see the young, green-robed woman come bounding up to Daniel and me. She stopped just before colliding with Daniel’s chest—and punched him in the arm.

  Daniel winced. She’d smacked him just below his still-healing bullet wound. But the wince quickly turned into a smile. “Jordan!” he exclaimed.

  She laughed and jumped at him. Daniel caught her in a hug, gave her a quick squeeze, and then set her on her feet.

  Both of my eyebrows went up in arches. So Daniel did know her?

  Daniel looked at me and indicated the young woman. “Grace, this is Lisa Jordan. We met during my brief stay with the pack last year.”

  “The Divine One!” she practically squealed. She grabbed my hand and shook it with gusto. “I have to admit, I thought you’d be bigger or something.” She shrugged. “But whatever. Thanks for saving my ear! Sweet, I think my superhearing is even a little better.” As she pointed at her ear, I noticed that her dangling black teardrop earrings were actually made of moonstones.

  “No problem,” I said.

  Lisa squeezed my hands and let go, then wrapped her hands around Daniel’s wrists, bouncing his arms up and down with excitement. “I’ve missed you, freak. But I can see why you wanted to come back here. She’s almost as pretty as I am.”

  I couldn’t help staring at this Lisa Jordan. Not only was she still the only other female Urbat I’d ever met, but she was also gorgeous, with hair the color of candied walnuts and eyes a clear lake green. Her arms were toned, and her body was tall and slender like a runner’s. She looked like she was in her early twenties, and I couldn’t help wondering—if only for a fleeting moment—just how well she and Daniel had gotten to know each other before.

  Lisa gave me a playful smile, as if she could read my thoughts. “Don’t worry,” she said, leaning toward me and still hanging on to Daniel’s wrists. “Daniel is way too young for me.”

  I blinked.

  “I turned twenty-one in 1985,” she said, even though she still looked that age. “I don’t go for teenagers. That’d be creepy.”

  “Oh.” I laughed.

  All the newcomers in the room looked like they were in their twenties, but some of them had more age behind their eyes.

  Lisa leaned in closer to Daniel and took in a deep breath, as if drinking in his scent. “Yowza, but I do have to say, he’s even more appealing now that he’s got his true alpha on. Nothing quite like the smell of power to get my blood boiling.” She smiled at Daniel. “I knew you had it in you. And you wear it well.”

  Daniel blushed. A full-on, red-in-the-face blush.

  “Tell you what.” She lowered her voice so it was barely a whisper—kind of pointless in a room full of people with superhearing, but whatever. “That was so darn cool how you got two of Sirhan’s men to bow to you. Geez, I’m surprised Sirhan didn’t take off your head right there and then for it. Even despite all this ‘cure’ stuff.”

  “What’s up with Sirhan, anyway?” I asked. “Why does he look the way he does? All man-wolfy?”

  Lisa shrugged and swept her long bangs out of her eyes. “That’s what happens when the Urbat hit their nine-hundred-and-ninetieth year. Not only do they suddenly age rapidly—their body changes in other ways, too. It’s like the wolf manifests outwardly even when they’re in human form. One of the other Elders said he thinks that’s why some human myths portray werewolves as anamorphic wolf men. Someone must have once found the body of a newly deceased ancient one.” Lisa made a pouty face. “It’s too bad, too. Sirhan used to be such a hotty. Looked almost just like his grandson, here.” She squeezed Daniel’s arm.

  Daniel looked down at her with a little shake of his head, confusion marring his perfect face. “What did you just say?”

  “I think she just called you Sirhan’s grandson,” I said, her comment just now clicking in my brain.

  “Ah crap.” Lisa put her hand over her lips. “I forgot that you’re not supposed to know that,” she said through her fingers. She looked across the room at the group of green-robed men. Two of them glared at her. They’d apparently been listening, and I wondered just how much trouble she’d be in for spilling this secret. But then she turned back to us. “But since that cat’s out of the bag”—she winked at Daniel—“I might as well tell you that your last name isn’t really Kalbi. It’s Etlu. Like Sirhan Etlu of the Etlu Clan.”

  “It is?” Daniel’s voice was barely audible. He’d always despised his last name. Kalbi meant dog. Kalbi connected him to Caleb. Reminded him of everything he didn’t want to be.

  “Etlu means warrior,” Lisa said. “Caleb must have changed his last name when he was banished by Sirhan—by his own father.”

  Daniel looked more than shocked.

  “So you’re saying that Sirhan is Daniel’s grandfather?” I asked, unable to hide the incredulity in my voice. “You mean, Sirhan turned away his own grandson when Daniel came to him seeking a home last year? That just … Grrr…”

  “Think about it, Grace,” Daniel said slowly, like he was processing his thoughts as he spoke them. “If I’m Sirhan’s grandson, then that means Caleb is his son.

  Or was, before he was disowned. Before Caleb caused the death of Rachel … his own mother. Imagine the betrayal Sirhan felt? His disdain for me makes all the more sense now.”

  “But you’re nothing like Caleb.”

  “Sirhan doesn’t see me that way.”

  “Then we have to make—”

  The din of the conversations going on around us faded, and I realized I was the only one speaking. All the robed Urbat had turned their attention toward the doorway as three blue-robed men entered the room. One of them carried Sirhan in his arms, the second followed closely with an oxygen tank, while a third man dragged a chair from the parish’s foyer behind him.

  He placed th
e chair in the center of the room, and the two other men placed Sirhan in it. They stood behind him with one hand on each of his shoulders. All the other people in robes fell to one knee, bowing their heads toward Sirhan, with one fist shoved against the floor. At first glance, Sirhan, clad in a burgundy velvet robe, looked as regal as a king holding court. But looking closer, I realized that the two men who stood behind him with their hands on his shoulders weren’t doing it just as a sign of respect—they were holding Sirhan upright in his chair.

  At the same time, I didn’t see this as a sign of weakness. No, Sirhan may not be physically powerful, but the respect and devotion he garnered from the rest of his able-bodied pack still made him the most dangerous person in this building. A single nod of his head could turn them all against us.

  One more blue-robed man entered the room with Gabriel in his custody. The two fell to one knee like the others—Gabriel doing so without any prodding from his guard. Part of me was surprised Gabriel still respected his alpha, despite the way he’d been treated. Then again, Gabriel and Sirhan’s history ran much deeper than these last few days. They had been as close as brothers for hundreds of years. Gabriel had told me once that it was the rapid aging process—and the proximity of death—that had changed Sirhan’s behavior as of late.

  “Very well,” Sirhan said. He waved his withered hand, telling his bowing subjects to rise. “I do not have much energy left.”

  Sirhan’s spokesperson knocked the hilt of his spear against the hardwood floor three times. “The Elders of both packs will convene in the center of the room for negotiations. Step forward.”

  The men in green robes moved quickly to form a half circle behind Sirhan’s chair.

  “That’s me,” Lisa said as she stood. “I better go.”

  “You’re an Elder now?” Daniel asked.

  “Duh,” she said, swishing the fabric of her green robes. “Methuselah passed away from old age a few months ago. Sirhan wanted some young blood on the council—so I got the nod. Marrock”—she pointed at a large man in a blue robe with blond dreadlocks and a beard—“was super pissed off, as you can imagine.”

  Daniel nodded.

  Lisa hurried off to join the half circle of Elders. One of them, a man with skin as rich and dark as espresso handed her the spear he must have been holding for her.

  Daniel looked at me. “Um, does our pack have Elders?”

  I shrugged.

  Daniel motioned to my dad, Jude, and Talbot to follow us. I would have vetoed his last choice, but I figured he had his reasons. We made our own semicircle facing Sirhan.

  “Let us get to the heart of the matter.” Sirhan pointed one of his long, clawed fingers at me and beckoned me closer. “The Child Divine claims she can cure me. But what exactly does she want in return?”

  I took a few steps in his direction. “Sanctuary. For Gabriel, Daniel, my family, and the rest of my pack. For this town, too. No one in Rose Crest is to be hurt by you or your people. Is that clear?”

  “Lofty demands from one so young and small.”

  “I pack a pretty big punch.” I waved my hand around the room. “Tell me, do you know anyone else who’s ever cured an Urbat before? Do you know any other Divine Ones? I cured Daniel, and now I can provide the same for you. But only if you grant us sanctuary.”

  Sirhan narrowed his eyes. “Bring the Kalbi boy here,” Sirhan demanded. “If he’s been cured as you and Gabriel claim, then why does he still possess the true alpha nature?”

  Two spearmen took Daniel by the arms, even though he didn’t protest being brought only inches from Sirhan’s monstrous face. Sirhan pulled the oxygen tube from his nostrils and scrunched up his snoutlike nose. After several wheezing breaths, taking in Daniel’s scent, he curled his lips in a growl. “You are not Urbat,” he said to Daniel. “What are you?”

  “I wish I knew,” Daniel said.

  “But you do,” I said. “You’re a Hound of Heaven. A true one. With all the powers of the Urbat, but without the curse that’s been passed from one generation to the next. From one infection to another. He’s what God intended all of you to be.”

  It made so much sense when I said it, I couldn’t believe I hadn’t thought to explain it in those exact terms before now. Gabriel nodded at my words like he agreed with my conclusion—and for half a second, I thought I caught a look of recognition in Daniel’s eyes when he glanced back at me. Like he finally understood—and accepted—it, too.

  The Elders murmured among themselves. One of them leaned over and whispered something in Sirhan’s pointed ear. The alpha nodded.

  “All the power without the curse?” he asked. Something gleamed in his yellow eyes. He waved at the guards, and they took Daniel to the side of the room next to Gabriel.

  “So tell me Child Divine,” Sirhan said. “How does this wondrous cure work?”

  “It’s simple really.” I took another step closer to him. “You die.”

  ONE SECOND FLAT

  Every razor-sharp spear in the room pointed in my direction.

  “Whoa.” I raised my hands. “What I mean is, the cure is death. Gabriel himself can tell you. It was his theory that I put to the test when I cured Daniel.”

  “Yes,” Gabriel said. “The cure to the Urbat curse is to be killed by the one who loves you most—in an act of true love. Grace has proved that it works. Alas, there is no guarantee that you would survive the cure as Daniel did, but it would free your soul before you died. So you are not doomed to be a demon for all eternity.”

  That look in Sirhan’s eyes faded, as if the hope that he could become perfect like Daniel faded along with it, but it was the freeing of his soul that he’d come here for in the first place. “Then how can you cure me, child? You don’t even know me.”

  “I never said I could actually cure you.”

  Sirhan snarled. “You dared to lie to me, child!”

  Five blue-robed men closed in on me, their spears only centimeters from my face. “No!” I shouted. “I didn’t lie. I said I would provide the cure for you, but I can’t do it. You’re right, I don’t know you. I pity you. I have compassion for you. But only someone who loves you most can cure you.”

  Sirhan’s lips dropped back over his pointed teeth. He pursed them tight for a moment. “Then it is hopeless. My Rachel is gone.”

  “Here’s a whole room of people who love you—” I started to say.

  “They are loyal; that is not the same as love,” Sirhan said. “My true alpha essence keeps them devoted to me. But I have been far too cruel over the last year. No one in this room could possibly love me now. Love is against the nature of most Urbats, anyway. We are sad creatures, really. We hate to be alone. Our greatest drive is to be a part of a pack. Yet it is also part of who we are to never truly be close to anyone. We’re too selfish for love.”

  “But there are exceptions to that. You and your Rachel? Daniel and I before he was cured?”

  “True,” Sirhan said.

  “And I believe there is someone in this room who still loves you greatly. Despite the way you’ve treated him. He’s loved you as his brother for nearly eight hundred years. That has to mean something, doesn’t it?”

  “Does she mean you, Gabriel?”

  Gabriel nodded. “I am still your faithful brother, Sirhan. No matter what betrayal you think I have committed. I came to this town, and I stayed here, because I wanted to learn more about the cure—for you. For me. For all of us. I am your beta, and I will be until the end.”

  “But can you kill me?” Sirhan asked Gabriel. “You, who hasn’t raised his hand against another man for centuries?”

  “What life I have I owe to you, my brother. I would have gone mad hundreds of years ago if you had not convinced your pack to let me in.” Gabriel swallowed hard. “For you, I would do anything.” He wrung his hands. I noticed they were trembling.

  Sirhan sighed, looking even more weak and frail than before. Like he’d somehow aged another couple of decades in only a few seconds. H
e reached one of his beastly hands toward Gabriel. “Then do it now, brother. End my suffering.… Before it’s too late and I pass from this world on my own.”

  “Not here. Not now. Alas, Sirhan, I will need time to prepare. Meditate. I want to ensure I am in the right state of mind for it to work. What I do for you must be an act of pure love.” He paused for a moment. “There is also the issue of the Challenging Ceremony that should be considered.”

  “Yes. Tomorrow is the first day of the full moon, is it not?”

  “It is.”

  Sirhan coughed. It sounded like a mixture of a growl and an asthma attack. “I do not know if I can hold on that long.” He rolled forward awkwardly in his chair, as if trying to reach for Gabriel, but instead he slumped over his knees, his outstretched hand now pointing at the floor.

  Gabriel knelt at his alpha’s side and helped push him up. The guards held him steady. “You must. Two days is not enough to prepare for the ceremony. We need more time.”

  “What’s this about two days?” I asked. “And what does the full moon have to do with anything?”

  “Pack laws are stringent when it comes to the Challenging Ceremony,” Gabriel said. “Not only in location, but also in timing. The ceremony would have to take place within a hundred paces of the location where the death of the alpha occurred. Pack laws also dictate that the Challenging Ceremony must happen at midnight on the second night of the full moon directly after the death of the alpha. If Sirhan were to pass either today or tomorrow—the ceremony must be held this Saturday evening. When the moon is at its fullest.”

  “It would be glorious, though, wouldn’t it?” Sirhan mumbled, more to himself than anyone else. “A Challenging Ceremony on the night of the bloodred moon. So poetic. And all that p-p-p-power…”

  I wondered for a second if Sirhan was rambling incoherently with some sort of rapid-aging-induced dementia, but then I knew what he was referring to. “The night of the bloodred moon? Does he mean a lunar eclipse?” I looked at Daniel. “There’s a total lunar eclipse this Saturday. We’re supposed to observe it for our astronomy class. Dr. Richards said that the moon would turn bright red during it.” I looked back at Gabriel and Sirhan. “Does a lunar eclipse do something to the Urbat?”