The Lost Saint

Daniel’s nostrils flared. “So if you didn’t want to find me then, why do you want me now? I assume this trap was set for me?”


“Quite right,” Caleb said. “I’m glad your friend told us where to find you. Saved me the trouble of doing it myself before the challenging ceremony. Thing is, I thought Jude looked familiar when Talbot brought him home to us. He’d been living on the streets like a stray. Most of my boys were. That’s the nice thing about desperate teenagers—they’re easy to dominate. You tell them they belong, and they’ll do pretty much anything you ask. But I didn’t realize who Jude was until one night he decided to entertain us with the story of how he became a werewolf. Seems his sister Grace and her boyfriend, Daniel, had something to do with it. You can imagine how much I enjoyed listening to his story from the balcony, and how badly I wanted to know more.

“He tried to run when he realized who I was and what I wanted. But then I helped him see we had something in common. We’d both been betrayed by our families. Sirhan would rather leave his pack in the hands of a coward like Gabriel than let me lead it the way it should be led. And Jude’s family chose the mutt next door over their own son. Once we saw eye to eye, it was only a matter of time before we set our trap.”

Caleb’s explanation still didn’t make sense. Why would he set such an elaborate trap just to see Daniel again? Why did he even care? He’d already replaced Daniel twenty times over with the boys in his pack. Why would he send Talbot to become friends with me, only to kidnap me later and leave a trail for Daniel? I didn’t know if these were the workings of a madman, or some genius plot I couldn’t comprehend.

“The thing about your friend’s story that baffled me,” Caleb said, standing right in front of Daniel, “is that he claims you’ve been cured. I didn’t think that was possible. I still don’t.”

In a lighting-quick movement, Caleb thrust the knife at Daniel. I screamed. The knife plunged into Daniel’s upper arm. Caleb pulled it out, and blood spurted from the wound. It slithered down Daniel’s arm.

Caleb dabbed at the cut with his fingers. Daniel winced. Caleb brought his bloodstained fingers to his nose and sniffed. I assumed he was testing it to see if it smelled like wolf’s blood or like a human’s—like Daniel had tested Jude’s blood when he found it on our porch, and that was how he knew Jude had been infected. Caleb’s eyes squinted with confusion. He tasted the blood with the tip of his tongue. I tried not to gag. His forehead creased, and he seemed even more confused. Then he beckoned Talbot to his side.

Talbot smelled the blood and shook his head. “I don’t understand, Father. I can’t tell what it smells like. What do you think this means?”

Caleb wiped the blood on Talbot’s flannel shirt. “It doesn’t matter,” he said. His voice sounded like he was trying to cover up his confusion. “Daniel was always going to die, either way. He won’t be around to mess up the ceremony. The girl will make the perfect weapon, if she’s as strong as you claim.”

Talbot’s eyes flicked in my direction. But then he nodded and stepped back to where he’d stood before.

Caleb came back over to me. He wrapped a hand around one of my wrists. Every instinct told me to hit him and run, but I was still held by two guys.

“The only problem with killing one’s wife is that it gets lonely without a mate,” Caleb said. “I think you’ll do nicely once we’ve turned you into a werewolf.”

“Don’t you touch her!” Daniel shouted. “I’m the one you hate. Kill me and let her go!”

“Oh, I’ll let her go all right. Once she turns into a wolf, she won’t be able to control herself. Then I’ll let her go in a room with you. And then when she’s done tearing you apart, I’ll let her go back home. Send a message to her precious pastor father for me.”

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