The Lost Saint

“I’m getting your scent. You should get mine, too, in case we get separated.”


“Get your scent?” I almost laughed, because I couldn’t help thinking of myself as one of those tracking dogs that the police make smell a lost kid’s shirt or something before they set out looking for him.

Talbot pulled me closer, my lips practically skimming his neck. His hand squeezed my elbow tight. I took in a deep breath and held it in the back of my throat. Talbot smelled like mint gum, fresh sawdust, and something else that I probably wouldn’t have been able to pick up without my developing wolf sense. He smelled like my dog Daisy used to when she’d spent the morning lazing in the sun on the back porch. It was a smell that I’d always found slightly unpleasant in the past—especially when she’d try to nap on my bed smelling like that—but now it made my toes curl with the memory of warm, familiar things.

“You smell like lavender and vanilla,” Talbot said. He was so close I could feel his words, warm like sunlight, against my face. He tugged on one of my dark curls.

I took a step back. I’d let him get too close. “It’s just my shampoo.”

“Well, it’s nice and trackable, in case I need to double back to find you. You got my scent?”

I nodded.

“Now that’s just plan B in case you lose your way. I want you to focus your concentration on the Gelal and Akh scents. But their trail is old and fading, so don’t feel bad if you lose it. My trail will be nice and fresh if we do get separated, so fall back on that.” He smiled, all dimply. “And do at least try to keep up with me. Won’t be any fun if I find them without you.”

“Whoa, wait, we’re tracking down the thieves … right now?”

“Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“Yeah, but I thought we’d ease into it. I thought we were going over the basics for a while.” That was how Daniel would have handled it. Take it slow. Stay balanced. “I mean, you haven’t even taught me anything yet.”

“These are the basics, Grace. We’re demon hunters. No time for taking it easy.” Talbot rolled up the sleeves of his red-and-blue flannel shirt.

“So, um, what do we do if we find these demons?”

“We’ll figure that out when we do.”

“When?”

Talbot laughed. “This is going to be fun,” he said, and took off sprinting down the street.

He was down the block and about to go around a corner before I even realized he was gone. I bolted after him, because I knew I was going to lose him right off if I didn’t get a move on. But when I rounded the corner, he was leaning against a tree with his hands in his pockets. When I was about three feet away, he laughed and bolted again. I followed him as he started and stopped like this—a game of cat and mouse—through the lonely neighborhood streets.

Talbot seemed to enjoy himself all too much, which only annoyed me. He ran in the parkour manner that Daniel had used back when he had powers—taking the easiest passage through, or over, things in his way, rather than going around them. I watched him bound up a flight of concrete stairs to an adjacent building, dive through the railing at the top, land in a head-over-heels roll on the ground, and then pop up again.

“Come on, kid!” he shouted.

I took in a deep breath and followed his lead, shocked and happy with myself when I pulled off the same move. Talbot cheered. A woman walking her dog dropped its leash and stared.

Talbot took off again, running even faster than before. I ran after him, calling on my powers to help me catch up, letting hot, lightning heat push me forward. I was only twenty yards behind him when he veered to the left and then leaped over a six-foot wall and disappeared.

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