The Lost Saint Page 3

“Crap.” I couldn’t take another two weeks of not seeing Daniel outside of school. I flipped open my phone to check the missed call info, mentally crossing my fingers that it hadn’t been my mother, but what I saw made me cock my head in confusion. “Where’s your phone?” I asked Daniel.

“I left it inside. On my bed.” Daniel yawned. “Why?”

I stood up, still staring at the display on my phone. A dark feeling crept under my skin. My hair stood up on the back of my neck, and my muscles tensed in that way they did when my body sensed danger. The phone started ringing again in my hand. I almost dropped it.

“Who’s calling you?”

“You are.”

I fumbled with the phone and almost dropped it again. I pushed the Answer button. “Hello?” I asked tentatively as I put it to my ear.

Silence.

I looked at the screen on my phone to make sure I hadn’t missed the call or accidentally hit the Disconnect button. I returned it to my ear. “Um, hello?”

Still nothing.

I looked at Daniel and shrugged. “It must be some weird kind of flyaway.” I was about to hang up when I heard something on the line. It sounded almost like a hand covering the receiver.

“Hello?” My skin tingled. Goose bumps pricked up my arms. “Who’s there?”

“They’re coming for you,” a muffled voice said over the phone. “You’re in danger. You’re all in danger. You can’t stop them.”

“Who is this?” I asked, panic rising with the tension in my muscles. “How did you get Daniel’s phone?”

“Don’t trust him,” the trembling voice said. “He makes you think you can trust him, but you can’t.”

Daniel reached for the phone, but I shook him off.

“What are you talking about?” I asked.

“You can’t trust him.” The voice on the line seemed suddenly clearer—like the hand muffling the receiver had moved out of the way—and the familiarity of it made my heart nearly stop. “Please, Gracie, listen to me this time. You’re all in danger. You have to know that—” The voice cut off with a clatter, like the phone had been dropped, and the line went dead.

“Jude!” I shouted into my phone.

ABOUT TEN SECONDS LATER

“Wait!” Daniel called after me as he tried to push himself up from the ground.

But I’d hit the button to call back Daniel’s cell, and was off the grass and across the back patio before it even started ringing. I could hear his ringtone faintly playing a metal guitar version of “Moonlight Sonata” from his apartment in Maryanne’s basement. I felt a burst of supernatural speed and, in a matter of seconds, flew around the house and down the cement stairs that led to the apartment.

The old yellow door was slightly ajar. My palms suddenly went sweaty. Daniel was normally a bit compulsive about keeping his door locked. The hinges groaned as I pushed the door open a little farther.

“Jude?” I called into the studio apartment. The phone had stopped ringing, and the apartment was dark, but I could see a pair of Daniel’s Converse lying on the ground next to a crumpled pile of laundry. The sofa bed was pulled out but the blanket was missing, and the sheets were halfway off the thin mattress.

“Gracie, wait.” Daniel appeared at the top of the stairs. “That may not have been your brother on the phone.”

“It was him. I’d know his voice anywhere.” I was absolutely, upon threat of death from my father, not allowed to enter Daniel’s apartment with him alone—but I took a step into the doorway anyway. “Jude, are you here?”

“That’s not what I mean.” Daniel limped down the steps. “I mean, Jude may not have been your brother when he was calling. He may have been under the influences of the wolf.”

Once again, Daniel had a point, and I shivered at the reminder of the things my brother had done before while under the control of the wolf. The crescent-shaped scar in my arm twinged, as if to punctuate the memories. But still, if Jude was here, I needed to know. My heart sped up as I took a step inside the apartment.

“Jude?” I flicked the light switch a couple of times. Nothing happened.

My footsteps kept time with my heartbeat as I walked deeper into the dark room. Apprehension tightened in my muscles. Tingling pain spread through my tendons. My body was preparing for something—flight or fight.

I passed the sofa bed, inspecting the crumpled sheets for the phone Daniel said he’d left there. Daniel opened the bathroom door and cautiously eased inside the tiny room. I heard the opening and closing of cabinets, and then the rustling of the shower curtain.

The tingling pain spread to my fingertips, and I tightened my hand around my cell phone. I hit the Redial button once more. I could hear the ringing through my end before the metal tone of Daniel’s phone began. The noise was soft at first, but then it rapidly got louder and closer.

My body whirled on instinct toward the sound. I landed in a crouching position, ready to pounce. A small growl escaped from my lips.

“Whoa, Gracie!” Daniel said. He stood in front of me, his hands up in a defensive position, and his cell phone clutched in one of his fists. “It’s just me. I found my phone in the shower.”

I lunged at him and threw my arms around his neck. “Holy crap, I thought you were … were …” I held my breath and pressed my moonstone necklace to my chest, letting anxiety slowly drain out of my body. I don’t know exactly what I’d thought was behind me. A werewolf with a phone in its jaws? I felt positively ridiculous now.

“It’s okay.” Daniel brushed his fingers through my hair. “Nobody’s here.”

“But someone was here,” I said. “Unless you have a habit of talking on the phone in the shower.”

“Try using your powers to tell if it was Jude,” Daniel said. “Use your senses like I taught you.”

I didn’t have much hope that it would actually work, but I took a deep breath, held the air in the back of my mouth, and tried to let it fill my senses like Daniel had explained to me at least two dozen times in the last few months. I was supposed to be testing the air for hints of my brother, trying to sift out a faint familiar taste or smell beyond Daniel’s almondy scent and the tang of oil paint that always filled his apartment. I let my breath out in a long, frustrated hiss.

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