The Savage Grace: A Dark Divine Novel Page 5

  “Oh, okay,” she said, scrunching her nose. “Will you give it to him for me then?”

  She pulled a small package from her knapsack. It was wrapped in paper decorated with an exquisite, intricately hand-drawn design I didn’t doubt she’d done herself. A lot of work on her part for a present to my boyfriend.

  “Yeah, sure.” I know Daniel had sworn that nothing had ever happened between him and Katie—but I couldn’t help getting the feeling that she wanted something to.

  I glanced from the present to Daniel’s Trenton letter sitting on my table. An old sneaking thought trickled into my mind—in between everything else I had to worry about—what if Daniel and Katie were the ones who got acceptances to Trenton, and not me?

  The two of them headed off to college together.…

  Gah. None of this was good for my sanity. I took the present from Katie and shoved it into my backpack with all of Daniel’s and my assignments.

  What else could this day possibly throw at me?

  LATER

  The ring of the lunch bell couldn’t have come soon enough.

  “I’m gonna go to Day’s to get Jude some lunch,” April said, with the keys to her car in her hand. It’s a good thing she was around, or my brother would probably starve, considering everything else I had on my mind.

  “I’ll hitch a ride with you,” I said. I needed to get away from the school for a while.

  She gave me a hopeful smile. I’m sure she was thinking I’d changed my mind about visiting Jude. I hoped she wouldn’t be too disappointed that I was only planning on going with her to the grocery store.

  I know I shouldn’t have been surprised by the fact that Ryan, Slade, Brent, and Zach were waiting outside the school when April and I headed out to the parking lot. You’d think they’d be able to figure out what to do with themselves other than wait around for me all day.

  Then again, I was glad they weren’t left to their own devices.…

  I let them ride over to Day’s with us, but Brent was in one of his more sarcastic moods—driving both Ryan and Slade to the brink of punching him in the nose—so I insisted they wait outside while April and I went into the store.

  April headed over to the deli to order a couple of sandwiches. I wandered down one of the aisles until I found a stash of PowerBars. Just what I needed to get through this day. I picked up three that sounded the least disgusting and grabbed a bottled iced tea from the refrigerated section.

  Brunch of champions, I thought as I got in line at the cash registers with the realization that I’d forgotten to eat this morning. The emptiness in my stomach was so distracting I didn’t pay much attention to anything, until I heard Mr. Day ask the customer in front of me what he planned on doing about all that howling last night.

  My head snapped up, and I realized that I was standing behind none other than Deputy Marsh. Pretty much my least-favorite person in town—and the last person I wanted doing something about Daniel’s howling.

  “Few of the guys from the lodge are itching to get a hunting party together,” Marsh said as he handed a pastrami sandwich and a prepackaged protein shake over to Mr. Day to ring up. “That howling can’t mean anything good coming our way, not with this town’s history. And it looks like we already have a victim on our hands.”

  “Who?” Mr. Day asked, with no incredulity evident in his voice. I could tell by the look on his face that he was thinking about his granddaughter Jessica, who had supposedly been a victim of one of this town’s infamous wild-dog attacks almost a year ago.

  “Just got word that the doctors over at City Hospital are saying that Pete Bradshaw kid was attacked by an animal rather than a person, like we first thought. There are bite marks to prove it. The kid’s still unconscious, but he’s stable. I’m eager to find out what he knows.”

  Part of me had wanted to sigh audibly after hearing that Daniel would no longer be a suspect in the Pete Bradshaw case—Deputy Marsh had jumped to the assumption that Daniel was gunning to take down Pete for what he did to me last December—but I almost dropped my grocery basket because of what Mr. Day did next.

  “If you get a hunting party together, I’ll supply the ammunition,” Mr. Day said, and pulled a small box out from under the counter and set it in front of Marsh. I squinted at the writing on the box. Most of it looked like words written in a foreign language, but there was one line in English that said: handcrafted silver bullets. “Special ordered these from a guy in Romania.”

  Deputy Marsh chuckled uneasily as he picked up the package. “Silver bullets? What kind of wolf do you think we’d be hunting?”

  “You can never be too careful,” Mr. Day said, his tone dead serious. He’d been a believer in the Markham Street Monster ever since his granddaughter’s body had been discovered, mauled and mutilated, in the Dumpster behind his store. I should have known it wouldn’t take long for someone like him to put two and two together and realize that the monster had to be a werewolf.

  “You’re a crazy old coot, Day, but I won’t go passing up an offer for free amo.”

  I was about to protest when Michelle Evans, who was buying a five-pound bag of dog food from Stacey Canova at the next register, spoke up before me. “You can’t just go shooting wolves.” She gave Deputy Marsh the evil eye. “They may have been removed from the endangered species list, but you still need to apply for a permit.”

  “We did, ma’am.” Deputy Marsh tipped his hat to her. “One more attack and Fish and Wildlife Services will expedite a permit—and then I’m going hunting.”

  I watched with horror as Deputy Marsh tucked the box of silver bullets into his jacket pocket and sauntered away. It took Mr. Day asking three times before I realized I was next in line. “How’s Daniel feeling?” he asked as I stepped up to the counter.

  “Still the same,” I mumbled. If only Mr. Day knew his favorite employee was the one he was endangering with those silver bullets. But Deputy Marsh had always hated Daniel, so the truth would probably put Daniel even more at risk.

  “We sure do miss him around here.”

  “Me, too,” I said.

  April was still waiting at the deli counter, so I paid for my stuff and went out in front of the store before anyone could notice just how badly my hands shook.

  Silver bullets. Hunters after Daniel was bad enough, but ones equipped with weapons that could actually kill him…

  The boys were gathered near a tree at the far end of the parking lot. Ryan and Brent were engaged in some sort of wrestling match, with Zach egging them on. Slade held a cigarette to his lips and took a deep drag. I watched as Deputy Marsh veered from heading to his patrol truck and started to make a beeline toward them. No doubt thinking he was going to bust a gang of truant kids from the public school in Oak Park. “No loitering,” he shouted.

  “They’re my cousins,” I said as I passed him. “Visiting from … Michigan. They’re on fall break. I’ll tell them to go somewhere else.”

  Marsh looked at me with narrowed eyes. “Whatever. I’m on my lunch break,” he said, and headed back toward his car.

  “Put it out,” I said to Slade as I came up to the guys. Brent dropped his sleeper hold on Ryan when he saw me.

  Slade gave me a snide look.

  “I said put it out!”

  I grabbed the cigarette from his lips and flung it to the ground, then stomped it out with my foot. Slade growled as if he wanted to lunge at me, but the other three boys stepped in between us.

  “We’ve got more important things to do than for you guys to be hanging around getting hassled by the police. That very deputy is looking to get a wolf-hunting party together—with silver bullets! That means all of you are in danger, and Daniel, too. Which means I need all of you to head over to the warehouse to help my dad look for a moonstone. Now!” I should have told Dad to take all of them in the first place, not just Marcos. But if they went quickly, they’d get there in time to help out. Dad said he and Talbot wouldn’t be able to go out there until lunchtime.
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br />   Slade gave me an indignant sneer, but Zach and Ryan bowed their heads to acknowledge the order. Brent grabbed my arm.

  “The Shadow Kings’ warehouse? We can’t go back there!” he said, his voice sounding more urgent than I’d ever heard it. Not a hint of humor.

  “Why?”

  “Caleb’s backup plan. He always has a backup. There’s a fail-safe in case he had to abandon the building.”

  “What do you mean? Is the place being watched? Are the SKs back there?”

  “No. They wouldn’t go back there. Nobody should.

  That building is wired to explode!”

  “What?” I dropped my grocery bag. The bottle of iced tea shattered when it hit the concrete. “How do you know?”

  Brent’s face went absolutely white. “Because I built the explosives myself.”

  Chapter Six

  FIRESTORM

  TEN SECONDS LATER

  My cell phone was out, and I’d dialed Dad’s number faster than I thought possible. The call went straight to voice mail.

  “Ahhhh! Why do you never charge your phone?!” I shouted at the recording. But what if that wasn’t the reason his phone wasn’t working? What if…

  “What’s wrong?” April asked as she bounded up to me in the parking lot with her deli purchase.

  “April, I need your car! Give me your keys. This is matter of life and death.”

  “Yeah, right. My mom forbids me from letting anyone else drive it because of insurance.”

  “No, like, literally a matter of life and death! My dad is in danger.”

  “Now see, there’s someone who knows how to use ‘literally’ the correct way,” Brent said, smacking Ryan on the back.

  “Not the right time for that,” I snapped at him. I turned back to April. “The warehouse is rigged to explode. I can’t get my dad on his phone, so I’ve got to try to get there before they go inside.”

  “Oh!” April grabbed her keys from her purse and threw them to me.

  “Which one of you can drive the fastest?”

  “Slade,” Zach said. “He used to be a street racer.”

  Of course it would be Slade.

  “Zach and Ryan, can you two make the run to the city?”

  They nodded.

  “Go as fast as you can. You might beat us there. Brent, you come with Slade and me. Tell me everything you know about that bomb.”

  “What do you want me to do?” April asked.

  “Go back to school,” I practically ordered. I didn’t want April coming along.

  Who knows what we’d find when we got there.

  IN THE CAR

  The next thing I knew, we were flying down the freeway in April’s jelly bean of a hatchback. I’d dialed Dad five more times for good measure, and then thought to try the phone in his office at the parish—just in case he hadn’t left yet. Someone picked up on the seventh ring.

  “Thank goodness, Dad—” I started to say, but was cut off by a voice that wasn’t his.

  “Grace,” Gabriel said. “Listen. Whatever you do, do not come back to the parish or the school this afternoon.”

  “Why—?”

  “Your dad left his phone charging here,” Gabriel said. “If you see him, tell him not to come back here, either.” And then he hung up.

  I held my phone for a second, stunned. What on earth was that all about? Should I call him back? No, I didn’t have time to waste trying to figure out why Gabriel was being so cryptic. Dad was in trouble, and that’s all that mattered. At least I knew why his phone wasn’t working, and not because it had already been blown up.

  Tension mounted in my muscles, and the anxiety only increased with each moment that passed and we weren’t in the city yet—despite Slade’s insane driving.

  I shifted in the passenger seat so I could look at Brent in the backseat. “Tell me about that bomb.”

  Brent leaned forward. “The bomb was Caleb’s backup plan in case he had to abandon the warehouse. He wanted a way to destroy any evidence he might have had to leave behind—or take down anyone who might have overthrown him. He’s really into getting the last laugh.”

  “So why didn’t he just blow up the building after he escaped with rest of the Shadow Kings? We were in there for hours after he was gone. He could have gotten rid of all of us in one fell swoop.”

  “It doesn’t work that way—at least not yet. I wasn’t finished working on a remote trigger before we left. The way it works now is that there’s a keypad in Caleb’s bedroom. Every night, he has to punch a code into it. If he misses a night—like if he had to abandon the building—the trip sensor will be activated. The bomb is rigged to blow ninety seconds after someone unlocks one of the entrances into the warehouse. That way the victim will be well inside the building when the explosives go off”—he swallowed hard—“making escape almost impossible.”

  “You made that system?” Slade asked, swerving into the left lane at what felt like a hundred miles per hour. “Dude, I had no idea you were so hard-core. I shouldn’t have given you such a bad time. I knew you made those flash bombs we used when we robbed places—but man, you’ve got some real skills.”

  “Tell that to my long string of foster parents. Nobody is too keen on a foster kid who enjoys making explosives in their garage. That’s how I ended up on the streets when Talbot found me and brought me to Caleb. I think they wanted me for my ‘skills,’ as you say.”

  “Why didn’t you tell us about the trap?” I asked, trying to get us back to the topic at hand.

  “I didn’t think you’d be crazy enough to go back there.”

  “But wouldn’t Talbot know about the explosives?” Was he intentionally leading my dad into the trap? I knew he couldn’t be trusted.

  “No,” Brent said. “I’m the only one who knew. Caleb is super-freaking-paranoid. That was his backup plan to get revenge on anyone who might turn on him. I’m probably still alive only because I stalled on making the remote trigger. No way Talbot knows about it.”

  “Talbot!” I grabbed my phone and dialed Talbot’s number. It rang six times and then went to voice mail. I left a message of warning and then dialed the number over and over again. “Why aren’t you picking up?!”

  Slade swerved the car between two semis and then jutted in front of one of them, cutting it off. Perhaps Caleb had chosen him for his special skills, too. I clutched at my stomach as the car took a hard right turn onto the exit. But we were still a good five minutes from the warehouse. I opened my phone with the intention of sending a couple dozen texts to Talbot—anything to get his attention—when my phone suddenly rang in my hand.

  It was Talbot’s number. Relief gripped me so hard I almost missed answering it in time.

  “Talbot!” I said into my phone. “Thank heaven—”

  “Wow. Twenty missed calls? And you claim not to like me—”

  “Shut up,” I said. “I need to tell you, don’t go to the warehouse. You can’t go—”

  “We’re already here. I’m keeping watch while the others head inside.”

  “No! There’s a bomb. Whatever you do, don’t let them go inside.”

  “There’s a what? Sorry, you cut out. I’m in the underground corridor between … Depot and … warehouse. Just a sec.”

  I could tell from the distance in his voice that he’d lowered the phone from his ear before he’d finished talking. I shouted as loud as I could so he might still hear me, “No! Listen to me—”

  “Go ahead. It’s just Grace,” I heard Talbot’s voice call to someone on his end of the line.

  “There’s a—” But I didn’t get a chance to finish my sentence. I didn’t need to. Because I heard what had happened: a horrible explosive crescendo mixed with a sound so terrible it could only be a human scream before the line went completely silent.

  TWO HORRIFYING MINUTES LATER

  I saw the smoke almost immediately, billowing from a few blocks away. Slade hit the gas, and the car practically flew through the few remaining street
s. To me, it felt like we couldn’t possibly move any slower.

  I don’t know how I did what I did next. I don’t know how I had the presence of mind to call 911, but I did. I wasn’t sure if they understood anything that I’d said—that there had been an explosion at the warehouse next to the old train station on Murphy Street, and there were people inside—but I shouted it out before the phone fell from my shaking fingers.

  I was out of the car before Slade had swerved to a stop half a block from the flaming warehouse. Onlookers stood in the street, all staring at what I could barely stand to witness. The building that had once been the warehouse was now mostly a crumbled mass of burning rubble. Debris from the explosion littered the street, and tongues of flame lapped up at the sky from what remained of the building. Even from this far away, the black smoke and ash made me cough.

  How could anyone have survived this?

  “Dad!” I screamed, scanning every face in the small crowd of spectators. “Talbot!”

  Where were they?

  “Come on,” I cried to Brent and Slade. “Let’s go, we have to find them.” I started toward the warehouse, expecting the boys to follow, but when I turned back to say something, I realized that neither of them had moved from the car.

  I pulled open Slade’s door. “I said come on, and that’s an order.”

  “I can’t,” Slade said. He gripped the steering wheel like he was afraid I was going to try to physically pull him out of the car—and he was holding on for dear life. He stared at the flames, as if entranced by their deadly dance.

  “What do you mean you can’t? I need your help.”

  Slade just shook his head, not taking his eyes off the fire. I looked at Brent. His face was paler than morning frost. And then I realized what was going on. Something I’d read somewhere in all that research but I’d thought it was just another myth—werewolves were supposedly petrified by fire. Not a small flame like from Slade’s lighter, or the burn of a cigarette—but real, raging fire. Like the one that engulfed the warehouse.

  “I know you’re freaked out. I’m scared, too, but we need to find them.”