The Savage Grace: A Dark Divine Novel

I nodded. “What about you? How’s your shoulder?”


The way he’d been carrying himself all day, I’d almost forgotten about the bullet wound. I realized that it might not be the best idea for us to head into battle with one of us injured.

Daniel rolled his shoulders. “It stings like crazy, but I’ll be okay. I think it’s even started to heal a bit.”

“That’s good.”

“Let’s go.” He reached for the door handle.

I put my hand on his arm. “Thank you.”

His dark eyes blinked behind the mask. “What for?”

“For not suggesting that I stay in the car while you go in and take care of things for me.”

“We’re partners in this.”

“Good,” I said.

We got out of the car. The lost boys, wearing various Halloween masks, fell in behind us and we made our way toward the farmhouse through the crowd of teens who were clamoring to get past the bouncers. Some of the partygoers were dressed in costumes, others just in assortments of black, camo, lace, and leather. I wondered if they were eager to get inside the trance party because they knew what was going on in there—or because they didn’t have a clue. Part of me wanted to shout at them to run away.

“Just act like you belong here, and no one will stop us,” Daniel said, bypassing all the wannabes standing in line. I called on my superpowered balance in order not to wobble in the high-heeled black boots that went with my ensemble as we strode right up to the large bouncers. Daniel gave one of them a slight nod. He let us pass.

Daniel pushed open the door, and techno music burst into my eardrums. Inside reminded me of the Depot, with strobe lights, dancers, and plenty of foggy smoke wafting in the air. The biggest difference here was the decrepit farmhouse furniture interspersed with garish haunted-house decor, looking all the more frightening in the flashing lights and smoke.

“Fan out,” Daniel said to the boys. “I want you to act as lookouts only. No engaging with any of the Shadow Kings.”


I knew he hadn’t wanted them coming along into a potential fight—didn’t want to feel responsible for them if anything went wrong. But I’d convinced him that they should be here. They were his pack after all.

“This place reeks,” I said, gagging on the mixture of smells in the air: alcohol, perfume, cigarettes, decaying wood from the house itself, the must from yellowed drapes that hung from the blacked-out windows, and an underlying scent probably only someone like Daniel or me could pick out—like garbage that’s been baking out in the sun. The stench of sour milk and rotting meat.

“Akhs and Gelals.” I covered my nose. “This place is crawling with them.”

“Feeding grounds,” Daniel said. He looked at me. “You okay? I know this isn’t your scene.”

The first time I’d been to a party like this, at Daniel’s apartment last year, I’d run away scared. The second time was when April and I went to the Depot looking for Jude, and we’d had to be rescued and dragged out of there by Talbot. The third time, I’d had to leave before I lost control and hurt someone.

But this time, I wasn’t leaving the party until I’d kicked some major butt.

“Yeah,” I said, and led him toward a crowd of dancing teens in the family room of the house. “There he is,” I whispered, and nodded my head toward Pete Bradshaw. He lurked in the shadows behind a group of girls dressed in matching red-devil costumes. The girls danced in a circle, close to each other in a fashion that would have been provocative if their arms and legs weren’t moving in a such a weird, jerking sort of way. Almost like someone else was directing their motions. Like puppets on strings.

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