The Lost Saint

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.

Daniel gave me a hopeful look.

I shook my head. I’d failed again.

“It’s okay,” Daniel said. “It’ll come. It just takes time.” That’s what he always said.

“Yeah, I know.” I hoped he wasn’t going to launch into his usual speech about how it takes balance, and how I’m doing great so far, and how most Urbat take years to develop their powers. “Besides, I don’t even know if I remember what my brother smells like, and I certainly haven’t ever tasted him before.”

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