I sank into a kitchen chair. Perhaps Daniel’s reason for fixing the fence so early was because he’d changed his mind about wanting to see me again.
“May I?” I reached for Charity’s box of Lucky Charms.
She nodded. “Did you hear about Mr. Day’s granddaughter?”
“Jessica or Kristy?”
“Jess. She’s missing.”
Little frosted three-leafed clovers tumbled into my bowl. I hadn’t seen Jessica in years. She was in Daniel and Jude’s grade growing up, but her family had moved to the city when she was a sophomore. “Doesn’t she run away on a bimonthly basis?”
“Yeah, but never seriously. She’s never missed a holiday before. When she didn’t show up for Thanksgiving, her parents called the police. Her friends said they were with her at a party downtown the other night. They said she was there one minute and gone the next. It was in the paper.” Charity scraped the bottom of her bowl. “The Markham Street Monster strikes again.”
I dropped the cereal box. “Is that what they’re saying?”
“Yep. There was even a little blurb at the end of the article about James wandering away. I don’t know how they even heard about that. They say the monster might have tried to take him.” There was a sudden edge to her voice. She looked at me over the cereal box. “You don’t think—”
“They’re just trying to freak people out to up their sales.” I wished I could believe what I was saying, but I knew now the article might be right. “Where’s the newspaper anyway?”
“Jude surfaced a few minutes ago. He took it back downstairs,” Charity said. “The paper said the police are waiting for test results on that blood before they release a statement.”
My heart did a little flip-flop in my chest. What would they find with those test results? I pushed away the bowl of too-sweet cereal.
Charity turned the page of her book. A large silver-gray wolf stared back at me from the page. I couldn’t help shuddering as I thought of those animal tracks deep in the ravine.
AFTERNOON
I told myself I was not waiting for Daniel. I was simply working on my make-up assignment for Mr. Barlow, out on the porch, in November, where I might just happen to see Daniel if he decided to come back. I settled sideways into the porch swing, where I could see the walnut tree in the side yard, and the street—but like I said, I was not sitting around waiting for a guy.
It may have been the lack of focus, but no matter how hard I tried, my attempts to draw the walnut tree still didn’t feel right at all. I was fighting the urge to chuck my charcoal pencil across the porch when I heard someone come up beside me.
“I’m glad to see you haven’t given up on me,” Daniel said.
“Took you long enough,” I said, trying not to betray that I’d worried he wouldn’t show. “Where’d you take off to anyway?”
“Maryanne Duke’s.”
I glanced up at him.
“Apparently, she left her house to the parish. Your dad is letting me stay in the basement apartment until I figure some things out. I moved my stuff over there this morning.”
“I’m sure Maryanne’s daughters are just crazy about that.”
Daniel smirked and sat down next to me on the swing.
“Did you see the newspaper this morning?” I asked, trying to sound nonchalant. Daniel’s grin fell into a frown.
“Do you think they’re right? That the Markham Street Monster is responsible for what happened to Mr. Day’s granddaughter? That it tried to take James?” He shook his head.
“But you’re the one who said James couldn’t have gone that far on his own. And how did his slipper get down in that ravine?”
Daniel just stared at the palms of his hands, like he was hoping the answer would somehow be written there.
“Monsters are real,” I said. “They still exist right here in Minnesota, and in Iowa, and in Utah. Don’t they?”
Daniel scratched behind his ear. “Yes, Gracie. My people wouldn’t still exist if monsters didn’t.”
I suddenly shivered, even though we were sitting in the sun. I’m not sure I wanted to be right. “That’s just too weird to wrap my head around. To think that for nearly seventeen years I’ve been walking around completely oblivious to what the world is really like. I mean, I could have walked right past a monster without even knowing it.”
“You’ve met one,” Daniel said. “The other night.”
“I did?” Then my mind drifted back to the party at Daniel’s apartment. “Mishka,” I said, thinking of her black, black eyes and how I’d felt so fuzzy in the head around her. “And you’re friends with her?”
“It’s complicated,” Daniel said. “But she’s only dangerous when she doesn’t get what she wants. That’s why I went with her. I didn’t just abandon you for a haircut. I knew if I chose you over her, she might decide to … target you.”
My heart felt like it was twisting into a knot. “You don’t think that’s what happened, do you? Maybe she followed you here and decided to go after my little brother—”
“No. That’s not what happened.”
“Then what did?”
“I don’t know,” he mumbled. He was quiet for a moment, and then he looked at the drawing I held on my lap. “I can help you with that.”
“You’re doing it again,” I grumbled.
“What?”
“Dodging my questions, like everybody else. I’m not stupid or fragile or weak, you know.”
“I know, Grace. You’re anything but.” He blew his floppy bangs off his forehead. “I’m not dodging your questions. I just don’t have any more answers to give you.” He tapped my sketch pad with one of his long fingers. “Now, do you want help with your assignment, or not?”
“No, thanks. I’m in enough trouble over the last time you ‘fixed’ one of my drawings.”
“That’s not really what I meant,” he said. “I’ll be staying after school every day to work in the art room. I could use your company. Help keep that Barlow guy off my back. But we could start today. I could show you some new techniques I’ve picked up over the years.”
“I bet you could.” I sighed, realizing that our discussion about monsters was over—for now. “But this drawing is totally hopeless.” I tore the page out of my sketch pad and was about to crumple it up.
“Don’t.” Daniel grabbed it from me. He studied it for a moment. “Why are you drawing this?” He pointed at my skeleton of a tree.
I shrugged. “Because Barlow wants us to draw something that reminds us of our childhood. This is all I could think of.”
“But why?” Daniel asked. “What exactly about this tree are you trying to capture? What does it make you feel? What does it make you want?”
I gazed at the real tree in the yard. Memories trickled into my mind. You, I thought. It makes me want you. I looked down at my drawing pad and hoped mind reading wasn’t one of Daniel’s many hidden, demon-hunter talents.
“Remember when we used to race up that tree—see who could go the highest the fastest?” I asked. “And then we’d perch up there, and we could see the whole neighborhood? It felt like if we could just climb a little bit farther into the thin branches, we could stretch up and brush the clouds with our fingers.” I rolled the charcoal pencil between my hands. “I guess that’s what I want to feel again.”
“Then why are we down here?” Daniel grabbed my pencil and tucked my pad under his arm. “Come on.” He pulled me up from the swing and down the porch to the base of the walnut tree. Before I could blink, he’d kicked off his shoes and was halfway up the tree. “You coming?” he goaded from his perch.
“You’re crazy,” I shouted up to him.
“You’re losing!” He jumped from his branch to a higher one above.
“You’re cheating!” I grabbed the lowest branch and tried to swing myself up. My stiff legs groaned. I grabbed a different branch and climbed up a few feet. This was a lot less scary than the ravine, but a lot harder than the stone pillar in t
he Garden of Angels. My injured hand didn’t make it any easier.
“Pick up the pace, slowpoke!” Daniel shouted down at me like we were kids all over again. He was higher in the branches than I’d ever climbed.
“Zip it, or you’re going to lose an appendage.”
My feet scraped against the ashy-white bark as I pushed and pulled myself up through the tree. I was a few feet below Daniel when the branches felt too thin and wavering to support me. I stretched to reach him—to reach the sky, like I tried when I was kid. I slipped a bit and hugged the closest branch. Daniel swung down to meet me. The tree shuddered when he landed. I hugged my branch tighter. Daniel didn’t even blink. He sat in a crook of the tree, his legs swinging in the open air.
“So what do you see now?” he asked.
I willed myself to look down. I gazed out across the neighborhood—a bird’s-eye view of the world. Through the branches, I could see the tops of houses, smoke coming out of the Headrickses’ chimney. Kids playing street hockey in the cul-de-sac where Jude, Daniel, and I used to run with our light sabers. Where Daniel, after much bossing on my part, taught me how to skateboard. I looked up. Tree branches swayed above me, dancing in the blue, cloud-spotted sky.
“I see everything,” I said. “I see—”
“Don’t tell me. Show me.” He pulled my sketch pad out of his shirt. “Draw what you see.” He tried to hand me my things.
“From up here?” I was still hugging my tree branch. How did he expect me to be able to draw without falling? “I can’t.”
“Stop worrying.” He leaned against the trunk. “Come here.”
I slowly edged over to him. He helped me sit in front of him and then handed me my things. I leaned my back against his chest, and he wrapped his arms around my waist.
“Draw,” he said. “I’ll hold you until you’re done.”
I put the charcoal pencil to the paper. I hesitated for a moment. What was it I wanted to draw? I looked out across the yard in the other direction. From here, most of my Craftsman-style house was obscured by branches, but it looked like it had when I sat up here as a kid. Not patched and old, but solid, inviting, and safe. My hand started moving, drawing what I saw. Glimpses of my childhood home from my perch in the walnut tree.
“Good,” Daniel said as he watched my progress. He stayed mostly silent except to point out something here and there. “See how the sun glints off the wind vane? Draw the dark, not the light itself.”
I drew, letting charcoal lines flow right out of me, until my hand felt cramped and tired. I stopped to stretch, and Daniel pulled the sketch pad off my lap. “It’s good. Real good.” He nuzzled his nose against the top of my head. “You should do this in oils.”
“Yeesh.” I leaned forward.
Daniel trailed his fingers down my spine. “Still not a fan?”
“I haven’t tried oils in years.” Not since the day his mother took him away.
“You’ll never get into a place like Trenton if you don’t get the hang of it.”
“I know. Barlow’s been after me all year about that.”
“It wouldn’t be same there without you.”
I scooted away from him and dangled my legs along the sides of the branch. Daniel thought about us together at college? It felt weird to think about the future—our future—when so many weird things were happening. What were we doing up here anyway? We’d held hands, brushed skin, talked into the late hours of the night. But what did any of this mean? What could it mean?
“You never did show me that technique with linseed oil and varnish,” I said. It was the “trick” he’d promised to teach me just before he’d left with his mom.
Daniel cleared his throat and pulled himself to his feet. “You remember that?”
“I tried to forget,” I admitted. “I tried to forget everything about you.”
“You hated me that much?”
“No.” I grabbed a branch and pulled myself up, my back still to him. “I missed you that much.”
Daniel slid his fingers through my hair, sending little chills down my back. “God only knows the things I did to try to numb you out of my brain.”
“Me?”
“Grace, I … You have …” Daniel rested his hand on my shoulder. He sighed, and I knew he was about to change the subject.
I stepped away from his grasp, annoyed that I wouldn’t know what he wanted to say.
Daniel laughed uneasily. “I can still see right into your bedroom from here.”
“What?!”
Sure enough, I could see right into my bedroom window. It was afternoon, so the window reflected the sunlight, but if it had been night and the light was on, I’d be able to see just about everything. “You perv!”
“I’m just teasing,” he said. “I mean, I used to sit up here and watch your family, but I didn’t—”
Just then, something—someone—moved behind my window. I leaned forward, balancing myself with a thin branch, to see who was in my room.
“Careful,” Daniel said.
My foot slipped. The branch I held snapped. I shrieked.
Daniel caught me along the waist. He whirled me around so I was now on the thicker portion of the branch, and he stood where I had been. He pulled me tight against his body.
Am I the one shaking so much, or is that him?
Daniel rested his chin on my head and we stood together, precariously perched at such great heights. The only thing holding me, keeping me from falling, was Daniel. But he didn’t try to balance himself in any way—he didn’t need to.
“You’ve got to stop doing that,” he said about my near fall. “I don’t remember you being such a klutz.”
Neither did I—at least not before he came back. “You’re the one who is always making me climb on things.” I smacked his chest. “Who knew hanging out with you could be so dangerous?”
“You have no idea,” he mumbled into my hair.
I looked down at my hand on his hard chest. “You’re worth it.”
“Gracie,” Daniel whispered. He lifted my chin so I was looking up at him. He cupped my face with both hands. His eyes glinted with the sun. He touched his nose to my brow. He tilted his head.
All my fears and worries about monsters, all my concerns about my older brother, all my questions about Daniel melted away as I stretched up on my toes to meet him.
“Grace, Daniel,” someone shouted. Daniel dropped his hands from my face and stepped away.
Disappointment washed over me with the flood of my returning doubts. I sighed and looked out at the house. For the briefest of seconds, I thought I saw Jude watching us from my window. But that wasn’t who called our names. It was my dad.
He stood at the base of the tree, wearing the same clothes from yesterday. It looked like he had a wooden box tucked under his arm. The Corolla was parked in the driveway.
Daniel moved as far away from me on the branch as he could.
“Oh hey, Dad.” I gave a slight wave.
Dad crouched and picked up my sketch pad from the grass. It must have fallen when Daniel caught me. He looked at the drawing and then up at us.
“We were just working on an assignment for class,” I said.
Dad shielded his eyes from the sun. “Come down now,” he said, sounding more tired than I’d ever heard him.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
He looked at Daniel. “We need to talk.”
Daniel nodded. He turned to me and said softly, “Meet me on the porch after dinner. We’ll go to the store and get some linseed oil and varnish.”
“Can we go for a run afterward?”
He brushed my cheek. “Anything you want.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The Lost Sheep
LATE AFTERNOON
“Grace!” Charity bellowed from the front room.
I came in from the kitchen. She was sprawled across the couch, watching TV.
“What?”
“Phone.” She waggled the cordless over her head. br />
I grabbed it from her. I was about to put it to my ear when I noticed two wolves on the TV screen. They were gnawing on bloody, fleshy bones.
I covered the receiver. “Gross. What are you watching?”
“It’s for school.” She lowered the volume a bit. “I’m doing my paper on wolves. Did you know there haven’t been any in our county for over fifty years?”
“Really?”
One of the wolves howled. It sounded just like what I’d heard in the ravine.
I watched as a third, smaller wolf approached the eating pair. It tried to snatch a bite from the bloody carcass. The two other wolves growled. One of them lunged at the third, snapping and snarling. The small wolf retreated a few feet and watched longingly as the two larger wolves devoured their food.
“Why won’t they let that one eat?” I asked. “There’s plenty to share.”
“That one’s the omega.” Charity pointed at the smaller wolf. “He’s the lowest member of the pack. They treat him like a whipping boy.”
“That’s so not fair.”
“At least the alpha of this pack isn’t totally brutal. He’ll let the omega eat eventually.”
The large wolf bared its teeth as the small one tried to approach again. It lunged at the omega’s throat.
I turned away. I’d hate to see an alpha more brutal than that.
“Don’t forget about your boyfriend.” Charity pointed at the phone.
“Oh.” I knew that she was teasing, but I wondered if I’d ever be able to call Daniel that. I walked into the kitchen. “Hello?” I said into the phone.
“Grace?” It wasn’t Daniel.
“Oh hey, Pete.”
“Hey, so my mom wants to know how James is doing.”
“He’s fine.”
“Good.” Pete paused. “I hope you don’t hate me for not saying good-bye yesterday. My mom wasn’t feeling too great after everything that happened.”
“No worries,” I said. To be honest, I hadn’t even thought of Pete since I went into the woods with Daniel.
“So what’s up?”
“I’m calling in my rain check.”
“Rain check?”