The Lost Saint(23)

“Looks like our little bird brought a friend. How many dances do you think we can get out of them?”

“At least three,” said the one holding April.

“Gross!” April kicked him in the shin, but he just laughed.

These guys were ticking me off—more so even than Pete and his nasty friends—and I was happy that my powers were pooling in my muscles, searing under my skin. I was in no mood for playing the part of the damsel in distress.

“I like this one’s hair even better,” the yellow-teethed one said, and he reached his large, dirty hand toward one of my dark curls.

I felt a tiny pop of power as I swung my arm up and smacked his hand away before he could touch me. The guy looked stunned for a second. He shook his hand like I’d actually hurt him. Then he smiled even bigger. “This one’s got some real fight in her. I like that.”

He reached for me again, but before I knew what I was doing, my fists were up in the boxing stance Daniel had taught me. I knocked the guy’s hand away again and bounced back on my heels. When he came at me for a third time, my muscles flared with heat. I swung my leg and my high-heeled foot landed a perfect roundhouse kick in the guy’s stomach. I felt the sheer power in the movement, but I was still surprised when he went flying back. He collided with his friend. The leather-jacketed dude let go of April, and the two guys landed in a heap in front of the docking station.

I grabbed April’s arm. We were about to turn and run when I felt an iron-hard hand grip my ankle. The hand tugged on my leg. My pointy heel slipped out from under me. I let go of April and toppled backward, slamming back-first onto the concrete floor.

The noise and the motion of the lights suddenly came to a standstill, like time had stopped. All I could feel were a crushing pain around my ankle and April’s grasp as she tried to pull me up. My powers were gone. I’d felt them dissipate the second I hit the ground. I shook my head, and my vision and hearing improved a bit.

The pain eased on my ankle, but then it moved up to my knee. Maybe it was because my powers were suddenly gone, but the crushing force of his grip felt practically superhuman. The guy kept me pinned by the leg as he leaned over me—his yellow teeth and rotten breath only inches from my face. He raised his fist. “Why you little bi—”

“STOP!” someone shouted. But it wasn’t a scream. It sounded like a command.

The yellow-teethed guy let go of my leg almost instantly and backed away.

“Well, if it isn’t the Good Samaritan,” his friend said. “What do you want?”

“These girls are with me,” the commanding voice said, “so get the hell out of my sight, now!”


Yellowed-teethed guy scrambled a good ten feet away, and his friend mumbled something like, “Whatever. Have fun with ’em,” and disappeared into the crowd of gawkers that had formed around our little altercation.

I was still confused, shocked really, when I realized someone else leaned over me now, holding his hand out to pull me up. I could barely see him at first with all the flashing lights and fake fog, but when I finally focused on his face, I gasped.

I didn’t know who I’d expected to have come to my rescue—maybe Daniel had secretly followed me here, or perhaps even Jude had come out of hiding when he saw his sister and girlfriend in distress—but I certainly hadn’t expected the boy in the flannel shirt to be the one who’d saved me.





CHAPTER NINE


Talbot



OUTSIDE THE CLUB




The next thing I knew, I was being pulled through the throng in the club toward the exit, April following close behind. People practically jumped out of the flannel-shirt guy’s way in order to let us through. It wasn’t until we were up the stairs and outside in the slightly fresher air—and I realized that the guy was holding me by my hand—that I got my bearings enough to react.

“Where are you taking us?” I tugged my hand from his grasp, expecting him to keep it imprisoned in his, but he let go without hesitation.

“To your car,” he said. “I assume you drove a car here. You don’t seem like the girls who live nearby, and I’m guessing you’re not the public-transit sort.”

I hugged my arms around my bare stomach. I’m sure that only reinforced his assumption that we didn’t belong here.

“We’re the Corolla at the end of the street.” April pointed in the direction of my car, parked near the only working meter we could find. “We drove all the way from Rose Crest.” April sounded all breathless, and I couldn’t help noticing her smiling at the guy in an all-too-friendly way.

“April,” I snapped. I gave her a look that was supposed to say, We don’t know this guy from Adam, so don’t tell him where we live!

“What?” she whispered, not quietly. “The dude just saved our lives … and he’s cute.”

For some reason, heat flushed into my cheeks. I couldn’t deny the guy was attractive—in a down-home boy-from-the-farm sort of way, with his milk-chocolate-brown wavy hair, dimples, green eyes, and massive forearms that made it look like he’d spent hours baling hay. Even his flannel shirt and faded jeans screamed Clark Kent—without the superpowers, that is.

But it certainly didn’t mean anything that I’d noticed all of those things about him, right? And it especially didn’t mean I should trust him right away.