The Savage Grace: A Dark Divine Novel(109)

I lifted the gun and aimed the beam of the laser scope so it sat still and steady right over Talbot’s heart. “I’ve made my decision.”

Talbot didn’t even blink. “You know that all you have to do is want to kill me, and you’ll lose yourself.”

“I know,” I said.

I squeezed back on the trigger. A silver bullet exploded from the chamber.

I have no regrets.… I thought as the bullet hit Talbot squarely in the shoulder. He screamed, let go of Daniel, and stumbled backward. He clutched at the searing bullet wound and looked at me with shock and rage twisting in his glowing eyes.

“The difference is,” I said to Talbot, “I didn’t want to kill you. Just stop you. These bullets hit whatever is left of the target.” I pulled the trigger a second time, taking out one of his kneecaps. He collapsed onto the hard dirt ground, shrieking and writhing in pain.

I dropped the gun and scrambled toward Daniel, on my hands and knees, unable to walk on my fractured leg. But then Jude was there, pulling me against his side, and he carried me to where Daniel lay in the straw.

Jude set me down, and together we lifted Daniel so he was sitting up. Blood seeped from the gash in his cheek. But what worried me more was the blood soaking through his shirt. I pushed it up over his chest, but to my surprise the blood that was there had streamed down from the reopened bullet hole in his shoulder. Not a single mark marred his chest.

“It’s okay,” Daniel said, gritting his teeth. “He couldn’t get to my heart.”

“Why?” Jude asked.

“Because this heart doesn’t have an old wound to rip open.”

I nodded, understanding.

“What do you mean?” Jude asked. “Did I miss something?”

“When I stabbed Daniel last year, he was an Urbat with two hearts layered one on top of the other. But I killed that creature, and Daniel was essentially reborn.

Perfected. This heart, this single heart, has never been broken. There was no hole to rip open.”

Shifting so I was sitting at Daniel’s side, I started to help him remove his robe so I could get a better look at his shoulder.

“Water,” Daniel said. “My throat is so dry.”

“I’m on it.” Jude stood, ready to go fetch something for Daniel to drink.

“Thank you, brother,” Daniel said, and clasped Jude’s hand before he could go.

“You’re welcome … brother.” Jude squeezed Daniel’s fingers and let go, turning to leave.

“His heart still deserves to be broken,” came Talbot’s voice. My vision snapped to where I’d left him writhing in the dust. He’d moved two paces to the right. His arm pulled back, and a silver-tipped spear flew at Daniel’s chest like a javelin.

My hands were tangled in Daniel’s robes. I couldn’t react fast enough. Jude shouted and threw himself in front of Daniel. His cry turned sharp as the spear pierced through his chest and out his back. He landed on his side, one arm extended out, the other lying limply on the shaft of the spear.

I struggled to free my arm and let go of Daniel, scrambling to Jude. I looked up as Talbot ran, hobbling and stumbling on his injured leg toward the burning field of cornstalks. The guardians let him pass—abiding the rules of the ceremony that was still technically going on—but before I looked away, I thought I saw someone in a green robe go after him.

“Jude!” I said, turning my full attention on him.

His pleading eyes looked up at me. He grabbed weakly at the spear shaft. The amount of blood that pumped out of his chest confirmed my worst fear—he’d been stabbed through at least one of his hearts.

With a silver-tipped spear.

One of the few blows that could kill an Urbat.

“Jude, no!”

He’d reacted before I could. He’d thrown himself in front of the spear. He’d saved Daniel’s life.

“Gracie,” he said. “Please.” He tried to place his hand on mine. His following words made no sound, but he mouthed them to me with that pleading look overtaking his eyes.

I shook my head and grabbed him up in my arms. His head lolled in my grasp. His eyes rolled back under their lids. I checked the pulse in his neck. He was unconscious, but not dead. Not yet. The pulse was almost too weak to detect. “No. Hold on, Jude. You’re going to be okay. You’re going to be okay.” I turned toward Daniel, who struggled to his knees. “I promised him that. I promised him everything was going to be okay. We have to do something. We have to heal him.”

I broke the shaft of the spear and yanked the spearhead out through his back. I pushed down and pressed my hands over the wound in his chest. Blood pooled under my fingers as I tried to concentrate whatever positive energy I could find into him.

“Help me,” I said to Daniel. “Help me. I can’t do this one alone.”

“Gracie, you can’t,” Daniel said, pulling at my arms. “You can’t heal silver.”


“But we can at least try,” I shouted at him, not letting him pull my blood-soaked hands from Jude’s chest. “Help me, damn it! We promised to help him.”

Daniel let go of my arms. He placed his hands over mine.

Tears flooded down my face, but I forced my mind to clear. I thought of every positive wonderful moment I’d ever shared with my brother. Building Ewok forts in the family room, climbing trees, sitting on a rock beside Grandpa Kramer’s pond with our fishing poles. Power poured from my fingertips, but it wasn’t enough. My mind centered on another memory. The one of Daniel and me holding Jude in his cell at the parish. How it felt when Jude said he wanted our help. How it felt to know my brother was finally coming home.