The Savage Grace
Page 39

“Show-off,” I said sarcastically, but I couldn’t help smiling with appreciation. I could seriously watch him do that kind of thing all day.
“Oh, come on. You loved it.” His mischievous smile made me want to kiss it right off his face. How had I even breathed without him for an entire week?
“Yes, I did.” I put a hand on my hip. “The sheriff might be gone, but there’re still people in the house.”
“Good point.” He crouched low, avoiding the kitchen windows. “Are you okay?” He pointed at the bloody paper-towel bandage I’d forgotten was still wrapped around my finger.
“It’s just a small cut,” I said as I pulled off the paper towel and showed him how I’d healed it over. There wasn’t even a pink scar as evidence that the cut had even happened.
“You’re getting better at healing yourself,” he said.
Healing had always been the hardest of my powers to get the hang of. “Yeah, I guess I am.”
My ears pricked to the sound of voices coming from the house. I listened for a moment and realized that Aunt Carol was talking on the phone—complaining to her latest boyfriend about the visit from the police.
“Come on.” I waved at Daniel to follow me. I wanted to find a new home for those rifles while Aunt Carol was distracted. I rounded the edge of the porch to the opening where I’d stashed the guns the night before. I stretched my hand in deep to reach for them, then peered into the opening.
“You didn’t see Deputy Marsh carry anything out from the backyard, did you?”
Daniel shook his head. “I’m pretty sure he was empty-handed. Why?”
“Because they’re gone.…” Confusion muddled my brain. I could have sworn this is where I’d hidden the rifles, but maybe I’d just imagined that part of last night. The entire experience had been completely unreal. Maybe I’d left them in the forest after all? I shook my head. I know I wouldn’t have just left them there. “I think I might be losing my mind. I swear they were right there. I don’t know how this is possible.”
“What?” Daniel’s eyebrows arched over his deep brown eyes. He’d been so delirious, he wouldn’t have remembered my hiding them.
“You’re looking for this, aren’t you?” asked a voice from behind us.
Daniel and I reeled around to find someone standing there, with a high-powered rifle in her hand.
ABOUT TEN SECONDS LATER
“Charity!” I jumped up. “What the heck are you doing?”
The sight of my almost thirteen-year-old sister holding a gun nearly gave me a heart attack. She had it half raised in her hands, like she wasn’t quite strong enough for its weight.
“Whoa, there, Char. Be careful.” Daniel reached out toward the gun. “Give it to me.”
“No,” she said, taking a step back. “Not until you answer my questions.”
“Don’t be a brat, Charity,” I said in my bossiest older-sister voice possible. “Put that thing down. It’s loaded.”
Charity lowered one of her hands and shoved it into her pocket. She pulled something out and held it in her hand, nearly dropping the heavy gun at the same time. “You mean with more of these?” The bullet in her hand was shiny and silver. Not like the brassy ones a rifle would normally take. “These are silver bullets, aren’t they?” She cradled the gun in both of her arms.
“Yes, and they’re dangerous. Now put the gun down. It isn’t a toy.”
“I know,” she said. “And I know how to use a gun just as well as you do, Grace. Grandpa Kramer taught me how to shoot, too, you know.”
She was right. I did know. Grandpa Kramer had always fancied himself a bit of a cowboy. He used to invite us on monthlong trips to his summer cabin, where he’d teach us things like shooting and fishing. I wasn’t a fan of guns, but I could shoot a tin can off a tree stump from thirty yards away. Charity had been a lot younger during those lessons, but it was obvious she’d remembered a few things—like how to load and unload bullets.
“Yeah, and Grandpa Kramer would flip out if he saw you holding that thing. You should know better. Somebody could get hurt.” My nostrils flared. “Give. It. To. Me. Now.”
“Or what? You’ll tell Aunt Carol? Go ahead, because then you’ll have to explain to her why you have them, and I want to know. I deserve it. You should be thanking me for finding them before the deputy did. You know how far back under the porch I had to hide to keep him from seeing me? I still feel like I have spiders crawling all over my back.” She shivered dramatically, making me flinch. I really wished she’d put that gun down.
“Thank you,” I said, dropping the bossy tone. “But you can give it back to me now.” I held out my hand, beckoning her to hand the rifle over. Why had she even gone looking for it in the first place?
Charity shook her head. Her arms tightened around the gun. If she wasn’t careful, she was going to end up blowing someone’s face off. “I knew you were lying,” she said, answering the question I’d wanted to ask out loud. “Your neck was as red as the devil. I just couldn’t figure out what you were lying about. I figured if you had been out in the forest, you would have gone over the fence, so I decided to take a look around in the backyard. I didn’t actually expect to find out you were hiding guns.” She tapped her finger against the gun barrel. “But now I want to know why. I want the truth. And I’m not giving this gun back until you answer.”
Whoa. My little sister was using a high-powered rifle as leverage? Well, if there was any doubt she and I were related…
“You really were the one who attacked those hunters in the woods and stole their guns, weren’t you?” she asked.
I started to shake my head, but Charity wouldn’t have it.
“How would these guns have gotten under the porch if you didn’t hide them there?”
“I don’t know. Maybe someone else—”
“You’re lying again.” She nodded at my red-splotched neck. “But I don’t get why. Why would you attack a couple of hunters? Why would you steal their guns and hide them? How, even? And why would you do all that to save some wolf? That’s so not normal. Except you’ve been acting really strange for, like, a year now. Ever since Daniel came back.”