The Lost Saint(52)

“Oh.”

My mind reeled. Dad had given me books about werewolves, but most of those books just contained myths, no real substantial information at all, and the idea of battling a real demon had always been so far off—and seemed completely unreal—that I hadn’t bothered trying to learn much about the enemy. Talbot was right—I really was green.

And it had almost got me killed.

“Thank you for saving me. I would have just laid there and let her kill me.” I hugged my knees to my chest on the couch, feeling utterly useless. “I couldn’t help doing what she wanted.”

“Mind control,” Talbot said. “Just remember never to look an Akh in the eyes. That’s how they’re different from traditional vamps. Akhs are what you call psychic vampires. They feed on your life force, steal your free will. But Gelals and all vamps die the same way. Stake to the heart, or a good old-fashioned beheading.”

I shuddered, remembering the sight of the first woman’s head being severed from her body. “I was so shocked by everything, I completely forgot that there was one more of them in the house.”

“That’s my fault. I should have reminded you so you’d have been prepared. But let that be a lesson to the both of us, okay?” He smiled at me. “Rule number one: Never drop your guard.”

I half smiled, but then it turned to a frown. Daniel had said that same thing to me time and again. And I hated that I wouldn’t be able to tell him about what had happened today.

I’d have to lie to him.

The feeling of utter defeat settled on my shoulders as I surveyed the empty room again. “I just wish you hadn’t had to kill them all. I mean, we didn’t get to question any of them about Jude. If this is the gang he’s been hiding out with, then where the heck is he?”

“Jude was never here,” Talbot said. “These creatures were just amateurs. Copycats. They’re not the real Shadow Kings. The real gang would have never tripped the silent alarm at that pawnshop.”

I stood up and faced Talbot. My hands shook with anger. “Wait, you knew all along they weren’t the real gang?”

Talbot nodded.

“Then why did we come here?”

“Because this was a test, Grace. I needed to know if you were ready, and clearly you’re not. What you saw here, what happened in that alley on Monday, that was just child’s play compared to what we’ll eventually face. This little band of amateurs was only four strong. The real gang is probably five times as big.”

That thought sent chills down my spine. “So you knew Jude wasn’t here before we came busting in?”

“Yes.”

“Then why did you say … Why did you make me think he was?”

“Because I needed to get you worked up enough to act. Your emotions—that’s where your power comes from.”

Talbot’s words confused me. “But that’s not what Daniel says. He always tells me to pull back when I get angry. He says the key to learning to use my powers is balance. He says I should never allow my emotions to get the better of me if I want to learn to use my powers without giving in to the wolf.”

“Then you should start asking yourself what reason Daniel has for holding you back.”

Heat flashed in my cheeks. Talbot’s right, a voice said inside my mind. Daniel did want to hold me back.

But that still didn’t mean Talbot was right and Daniel was wrong.

Talbot stood up so he was standing right in front of me, only a few inches separating us. He looked into my eyes with his piercing gaze. He reached out and touched my moonstone necklace. I wanted to flinch away from his touch, but I didn’t.

“You’ll never reach your full potential if you keep wearing this,” he said. “I ditched mine a long time ago.”

“You threw away your moonstone? Where’d you even get one? I thought they were rare.…”

“Old family heirloom. I’m better off without it.”

“But Gabriel says the moonstone is the only thing that keeps the wolf at bay. Gabriel—”

“Gabriel?” Talbot pulled his hand away from my necklace and stepped back. “You know Gabriel?”

“Yes.” Assuming he meant the same one. “Gabriel Saint Moon?”

Talbot let out a harsh laugh. “He calls himself Saint Moon now? That’s ironic.”

“You know about Gabriel and the Saint Moons?”

“Gabriel is a notorious coward.” Talbot spread his arms out at his sides. “And I am a Saint Moon.”

I almost gasped. “You are?”

“Or at least my mother was. She was a direct descendant of Katharine and Simon Saint Moon, the first werewolf hunter in my family. By the time my mom was born, the Saint Moons had supposedly retired from the demon-hunting gig, but both my parents were crypto-zoologists. They’d travel around researching local demon mythology—but I imagine they did a little slaying on the side when times called for it. That is, until they had me. They stopped traveling and settled down in a small town in Pennsylvania. The Saint Moons had a truce with Gabriel’s pack, which lived in the nearby mountains, but then, on my third birthday, my parents were slaughtered by a rogue band of werewolves from that pack—right in front of me.”


This time I did gasp. I covered my mouth with my hand.