The Savage Grace
Page 42

“Lost boys? You mean like that old Kiefer Sutherland movie?”
“What? No, I mean like Peter Pan and the lost boys.”
“Is she calling us fairies?” Slade asked.
“No,” Brent said. “She means the lost boys who never wanted to grow up, and got into mischief with Peter Pan.”
“Still sounds like fairies to me.” Slade crossed his tattooed arms in front of his chest.
“Still sounds like that Kiefer Sutherland movie to me.” Daniel smirked.
“We were in the play together, like, seven years ago. You were mad because my mom made you wear tights, but you wanted to be a pirate.”
Daniel held his hand up. “Partial amnesia here, remember? I must have blocked out any and all recollections associated with said tights.”
Brent, Zach, and Ryan laughed. Slade almost cracked a smile.
“Well, anyway,” I said, “I was trying to say that it’s about time you met your pack.”
“In person, that is.” Daniel stretched his hand out toward Zach. “I’m sorry, like I said, my memory is a little messed up. I don’t remember names.”
“This is Zach,” I said as Daniel shook hands with him. “The youngest is Ryan. The obnoxious one is Brent.”
“I respect that assessment,” Brent said, and awkwardly bumped knuckles with Daniel instead of a handshake.
“And this is Slade.” I gestured to him in the doorway.
Daniel stuck his fist out toward Slade, and I swear the tattooed-covered street racer flinched away from it at first. After what seemed like a second of contemplation, he smacked his fist down on top of Daniel’s. A typical guy greeting.
“But there were five of you, weren’t there?” Daniel turned back to Ryan and the others. “Where is he?”
“Marcos.” I shoved my hands in my pockets. “He died in the explosion at the warehouse.”
The boys dropped their heads, as if in a moment of silence for their friend.
Daniel nodded. “I remember feeling your loss.”
“We should probably get going. I’ve already sent a text asking for the meet-up.”
“Right,” Daniel said.
“What’re you up to?” Ryan asked.
“We’ve got a matter to take care of.” I picked up the Corolla keys from the sofa bed. “Might get a little dicey.”
“Bring us,” Ryan said. “For backup.”
“Yeah,” the others agreed.
Daniel shifted uncomfortably next to me. I knew it would irritate him to have four shadows, but I was glad to see that the devotion of these reformed SKs hadn’t waned one bit now that Daniel was no longer the white wolf.
“I don’t mind busting some heads for you.” Brent punched his fist into his palm, looking tough and yet still very sarcastic at the same time.
“I think this matter may call for a more delicate approach,” I said.
“Okay,” Daniel said, and propelled Brent out the door with the others. “Let’s go. We’ll fill you in on the way.”
TWENTY MINUTES LATER
As part of the delicate approach, we decided it would be best if I arrived at the meet-up alone—didn’t want to spook Talbot before I could get answers.
The only problem was, the moment I saw him leaning against a tree at the farthest end of the churchyard, where I’d texted him to meet me, any idea of handling him delicately vanished from my mind.
Talbot stood up and shoved his hands into his pockets when he saw me coming. Stubble painted his face as if it had been over a day since he’d shaved, and he wore the same clothes I’d last seen him in. I must not have been able to stop my emotions from showing on my face, because a strange looked passed over his eyes—kind of like guilt—before he plastered on his warmest “aw shucks” farm-boy, dimpled smile. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to stay away from me for long. You have no idea how happy I am you decided—”
“What the hell did you do?” I asked as I approached.
A confused look settled in Talbot’s eyes. “Nothing … I was just sitting here.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about.” My hand went flying, and I hit him in the sternum with the flat of my palm, slamming him against the tree trunk. The branches above us shuddered. A flutter of autumn leaves fell to the ground. A bright orange one landed in his brown hair. I had to stand up on my tiptoes to get in his face.
“Whoa, kid. If you wanted to get me in a compromising position, all you had to do was ask.”
“Stop it!” I grabbed him by the collar of his flannel shirt. “You need to tell me exactly what happened to Pete Bradshaw.”
Since the moment it was revealed that Talbot had been working for Caleb, that he was one of the Shadow Kings, I’d suspected that he’d had something to do with the attack on Pete Bradshaw that had put him in a coma. After all, Pete had been found in the dojo, where Talbot and I had trained, with an SK spray painted next to his body. Not to mention that Talbot had witnessed an altercation between Pete and me the night before at the Depot. And I’d seen how angry Talbot had gotten when he’d heard that Pete had been harassing me.
“You attacked him, didn’t you? After I begged you to leave him be. What did you do to him?”
Talbot just stared at me. He blinked a couple of times. “What are you talking about … ?” He gave me a look like he was afraid I knew something I shouldn’t.
“Don’t pretend you didn’t have anything to do with that attack on Pete. You know what happened to him. I watched him die two days ago, but my sister saw him hanging out near a gas station in the city this morning. Tell me how that’s possible.” I let go of his shirt. “Did you infect him? Is he an Urbat now or something?”
Talbot swore, loudly. “This is what I was afraid of,” he said under his breath. “He’s not an Urbat, Grace. Damn it. If what you say is true, then Pete’s an Akh.”
“An Akh?” Akhs were bloodthirsty and conniving, and they could psychically control their victims by staring into their eyes.
“He must have been infected by an Akh when he was attacked.” Talbot brushed the leaf out of his hair. “I didn’t attack Pete that night … because you asked me not to—”
“You didn’t?” My voice was more than tinged with incredulity.