The Savage Grace: A Dark Divine Novel(33)

I nodded, realizing that I had already known what he’d just told me. I was the only one who could do it—just like I’d been the only one who could cure Daniel a year ago.

The first time I’d experienced the connection between Daniel and me—months ago when he brought me to the Garden of Angels—it had felt like we were tethered together and I was his lifeline. Like I was the one who could pull him to safety.

“Your anger is trying to sever that connection. It is even more imperative now that you deal with it as soon as possible. You must not try to change Daniel back until you have—or I am afraid you will lose him forever.”

I swallowed hard, unable to respond. Even though I had the moonstone now, Gabriel knew I wasn’t ready to use it.

I knew I wasn’t ready.

Daniel’s howls grew louder. Perhaps he knew it, too.

“I must bid you good-bye. I will protect Daniel tonight, but I will be gone in the morning.” He stood and bowed to me, bending from the waist with one hand over his heart, as if addressing royalty. “I have faith in you, Divine One. I know you and Daniel are destined to do great things for the Urbat.”

And then he was out the door before I could even muster up an argument to his beliefs. Instead, I let myself be grateful for his help.

I’d have it for only a few more hours.





Chapter Twelve


DO THE MATH


LATER THAT EVENING

Dad being worse off now because of my botched healing attempt

+

Finally having the moonstone and not being able to use it

+

Fearing my anger was driving Daniel away, and not knowing how to get rid of it + Knowing Gabriel, the one person I had left to rely on, had to leave or else my town might become a paranormal war zone

= PRETTY MUCH THE PERFECT RECIPE FOR INSOMNIA

I tried watching TV for a while in hopes of getting sleepy, but the only thing on was the local news. They kept showing live updates about the warehouse fire that had now spread to the abandoned train station and threatened other buildings on the block. They cut in with occasional reports on Dad’s medical status (still critical). And the only other story they seemed to have to run with was the death of Pete Bradshaw. The phone started ringing so I hit the Off button on the remote just as a reporter shoved a microphone into poor Ann Bradshaw’s face just outside her house.

I looked at the caller ID on the wireless handset.

Aunt Carol.

I’d found a long piece of string in the utility drawer in the kitchen and had used it to hang the moonstone around my neck as a pendant. I clutched at it now for strength as I answered the phone.

Aunt Carol immediately laid me flat with a lecture about how I should have called her right away and not let her find out about my father from the evening news—apparently, the story about the explosion was being reported as far away as Cincinnati. But then whatever latent motherly instinct was buried inside my aunt must have surfaced, because the next thing I knew I was insisting that she didn’t need to drive all the way out here with Charity and James to be with me.

“I’m fine. And the ICU won’t let James and Charity visit because they’re both under thirteen, so I think it’s better if they stay out there. I don’t think they’d be able to handle being this close without being allowed to see him.” I knew that reasoning probably wouldn’t keep my sister away, and I contemplated asking Aunt Carol to keep the news from Charity all together. But I knew how pissed I’d be if I were her when I eventually did find out. It’s just that the last thing I needed was the three of them coming here, with so many dangers looming and so many secrets that could be exposed. I’d promised James once that I’d keep him safe, and the best way to do that right now was to keep him away.

Aunt Carol definitely wasn’t keeping mum on the subject, because it was only five minutes after I’d hung up with her that I had to field a call from Grandma Kramer in Florida. If it weren’t for my grandfather’s recent health problems, I knew I would have ended up with them on the doorstep pretty soon, too.

Once phone calls were finished, I was even less sleepy and I couldn’t shake the need to feel somewhat productive—so I went upstairs and started in on some of my homework, and attempted to finish a stack of Daniel’s missed assignments, too. All the while, I cursed the fact that Daniel and I had only three classes together. I was at a total loss when it came to his calculus homework, and the one assignment we did have in common—tracking the upcoming eclipse for our astronomy class—couldn’t be done until the lunar eclipse on Saturday. I tucked that worksheet back into my backpack, where I found Mr. Barlow’s letters of recommendation for Trenton.

I slid open my desk drawer and pulled out the large white envelope that contained my Trenton application. I’d looked at it only once since I’d gotten it, and I remembered feeling overwhelmed—now I had two to tackle by Friday. It might seem like a trivial thing to be worried about at a time like this, but Trenton was what Daniel had always wanted, and Dad was right: I needed to make sure Daniel had a future to come back to.

The actual application part would be easy, yet time-consuming, to fill out for Daniel. However, it was the essays that scared me. I mean, I barely knew the answers to the questions for myself, let alone how to answer them on someone else’s behalf. I stared at the broken blue seal on the envelope for a long time and then stuck it back in my drawer.