The Lost Saint(28)

I concentrated on the pain engulfing my body. Tried to embrace it. Tried to will my legs to run faster and harder than ever before.

But nothing happened.

I couldn’t break through whatever barrier stood between me and my being able to use my powers fully.





LATER




My legs were about as stable as putty erasers when I jogged into Daniel’s neighborhood, toward Maryanne Duke’s old house. I’d been hoping to be able to share good news with Daniel—tell him how I’d finally gotten a handle on my speed and agility—but instead my shoulders sagged with frustration. I didn’t understand it. Why had I been able to use my powers last night, but not right now? What was the difference?

But my frustration shifted into curiosity as I approached Maryanne’s house and saw Daniel out front, strapping down a duffel bag on the back of his Honda Shadow.

“Hey,” I called as I jogged up the driveway.

Daniel crouched and adjusted one of the straps holding down his bag. “What’re you doing here?”

“Checking up on … Um, just stopping by to say hi.” I gave him a slight wave. “So, um, hi.”

“Hi.” Daniel scratched at the bandage on his forearm, then tested the hold of a second strap that secured his bag. He hadn’t even looked at me yet.

“What’s going on?” I fingered the zipper on his duffel. “Are you going somewhere?”

Daniel grunted, but before he could answer we both turned at the sound of a car pulling up in the driveway behind us. Not just any car—the sheriff’s patrol truck. Daniel stiffened and straightened up. His dark eyes finally flicked in my direction for half a second and then returned to his duffel bag on the back of his bike. He stepped in front of it as Sheriff Ford and Deputy Marsh got out of the truck.

“Hello, there, sir,” he said to the sheriff. “Is there a problem, or something I can help you with?” He sounded like someone who’d been pulled over for speeding many times—which I didn’t doubt. Daniel had always had a thing for moving fast. But the pale look on Sheriff Ford’s face made me pretty sure he had something much more serious than traffic tickets on his mind.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Either of you know a Tyler Whitney?” Ford asked.

“No,” Daniel said. “Pretty sure I don’t.”

“Well, I have a witness who says you do.” He pointed at the bandage on Daniel’s arm. “Someone says you got into an altercation with Tyler and a couple of his friends the other night.”

“Wait. Tyler?” I looked up at Daniel. His expression was like stone. “I think he means Pete Bradshaw’s friend Ty.” The one I saw at the club last night. “This is totally bogus,” I said to the sheriff. “Because if they’re pressing charges, then you should know that Daniel and I were minding our own business when they approached us. Daniel only acted in self-defense.”

“Grace,” Daniel said, a warning tone in his voice.

“What? They should know the truth.”

“Looks like you got pretty hurt,” Deputy Marsh said. “You weren’t looking for a little payback, were you? Didn’t track Tyler down and try to teach him a lesson for messing with you? Maybe went a little too far?”

“What?” Daniel stared Deputy Marsh right in the eyes. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Did something happen to this Tyler kid?”

Sheriff Ford cleared his throat. “He’s dead.”

My stomach lurched. “What happened?”

“His roommate, a Pete Bradshaw”—Sheriff Ford consulted his notepad—“found him outside their apartment this morning. Looks like he was jumped in the parking lot and beaten to death sometime during the night.”

“Pete told us you had an altercation with him two nights ago,” Deputy Marsh said. “He said you’d be looking for revenge.”

“That’s insane,” I said. “Daniel would never attack anyone.” Well, at least not the new, werewolf-free Daniel. “Pete’s a total liar. He’d say anything to get Daniel in trouble.”

“I assure you, sir, I had nothing to do with this,” Daniel said to the sheriff, sounding much calmer than I did.

“You two have quite the history with Mr. Bradshaw, as I recall.” Deputy Marsh glared at Daniel. “Perhaps you were looking to settle an old score with Pete, but went after his roommate when you couldn’t find him. You must have been angry when the charges were dropped in your girlfriend’s case, considering the only other witness died. Most guys wouldn’t take it lightly if their girl was attacked by a classmate who got off without even a slap on the wrists. Perhaps the fight from the other night was the final straw.”


“Marsh,” the sheriff snapped. Ford liked Daniel a lot more than his deputy did, and he had a lot of respect for my father. Either that, or they were doing a great job at playing good cop/bad cop. “I’m not at liberty to discuss the details, but we have reason to believe that Tyler’s death may have been connected with the burglary at Day’s Market, but since you had an altercation with Tyler and you work at Day’s, we need to ask you a few questions. We can do it here or at the station.”

“Wait, now you’re blaming him for Day’s Market, too?”