The Savage Grace: A Dark Divine Novel(47)

Charity lowered one of her hands and shoved it into her pocket. She pulled something out and held it in her hand, nearly dropping the heavy gun at the same time. “You mean with more of these?” The bullet in her hand was shiny and silver. Not like the brassy ones a rifle would normally take. “These are silver bullets, aren’t they?” She cradled the gun in both of her arms.

“Yes, and they’re dangerous. Now put the gun down. It isn’t a toy.”

“I know,” she said. “And I know how to use a gun just as well as you do, Grace. Grandpa Kramer taught me how to shoot, too, you know.”

She was right. I did know. Grandpa Kramer had always fancied himself a bit of a cowboy. He used to invite us on monthlong trips to his summer cabin, where he’d teach us things like shooting and fishing. I wasn’t a fan of guns, but I could shoot a tin can off a tree stump from thirty yards away. Charity had been a lot younger during those lessons, but it was obvious she’d remembered a few things—like how to load and unload bullets.

“Yeah, and Grandpa Kramer would flip out if he saw you holding that thing. You should know better. Somebody could get hurt.” My nostrils flared. “Give. It. To. Me. Now.”

“Or what? You’ll tell Aunt Carol? Go ahead, because then you’ll have to explain to her why you have them, and I want to know. I deserve it. You should be thanking me for finding them before the deputy did. You know how far back under the porch I had to hide to keep him from seeing me? I still feel like I have spiders crawling all over my back.” She shivered dramatically, making me flinch. I really wished she’d put that gun down.

“Thank you,” I said, dropping the bossy tone. “But you can give it back to me now.” I held out my hand, beckoning her to hand the rifle over. Why had she even gone looking for it in the first place?

Charity shook her head. Her arms tightened around the gun. If she wasn’t careful, she was going to end up blowing someone’s face off. “I knew you were lying,” she said, answering the question I’d wanted to ask out loud. “Your neck was as red as the devil. I just couldn’t figure out what you were lying about. I figured if you had been out in the forest, you would have gone over the fence, so I decided to take a look around in the backyard. I didn’t actually expect to find out you were hiding guns.” She tapped her finger against the gun barrel. “But now I want to know why. I want the truth. And I’m not giving this gun back until you answer.”

Whoa. My little sister was using a high-powered rifle as leverage? Well, if there was any doubt she and I were related…

“You really were the one who attacked those hunters in the woods and stole their guns, weren’t you?” she asked.

I started to shake my head, but Charity wouldn’t have it.

“How would these guns have gotten under the porch if you didn’t hide them there?”

“I don’t know. Maybe someone else—”

“You’re lying again.” She nodded at my red-splotched neck. “But I don’t get why. Why would you attack a couple of hunters? Why would you steal their guns and hide them? How, even? And why would you do all that to save some wolf? That’s so not normal. Except you’ve been acting really strange for, like, a year now. Ever since Daniel came back.”

She glanced at Daniel. He shoved his hands in his pajama pants pockets, trying to look casual—which didn’t exactly make him look innocent, but did make his pecs flex in a very nice way. Charity’s cheeks pinked a bit, and I assumed it was because she’d finally noticed that Daniel was shirtless. I mean, she was a girl, after all; even if she was wigging out, she was bound to notice the perfection of his body.

Suddenly, her eyes narrowed as she looked at Daniel. “Is that … a bullet hole?” She used the muzzle of the gun to point at the welt on Daniel’s shoulder, making my stomach feel like I was on a rocking boat. “Or is it a burn? Or both?”

Daniel glanced at me as if asking how I thought he should answer the question. But I didn’t get a chance to respond.

“Oh, my heck.” The pink flush in Charity’s cheeks turned a bright shade of red. I could almost see the gears turning in her head as a realization dawned on her. “Silver bullets? That wasn’t a normal wolf those hunters were after, was it? I mean, what the sheriff said about the whole town being able to hear the wolf howling. That shouldn’t be possible. A normal wolf can’t be heard beyond a mile and a half. I studied wolves last year for my science project, so I know.”

I didn’t like the emphasis she kept putting on the word normal in her sentences. And I especially didn’t like the way she was holding the gun now, pointing it at Daniel in her unsteady hands.

“Charity, I don’t know what you think is going on, but—”

Charity rocked the gun in my direction, making me throw my hands up defensively on instinct.

“Don’t you point that at anyone!” I cried.

“What I couldn’t figure out was why you’d risk your life to save some wolf.” She tilted the gun back toward Daniel. “But I know why now.…”

“What do you think know?” Daniel asked, sounding calm, like a therapist, and not like someone who had a gun pointed at his chest.

“I had to research myths about wolves as part of my project. I know what they say about wolves, or people, who can be burned by silver. And I saw you do a flip from the roof and land on two feet like it was no big deal. Normal people can’t do that.”