The Savage Grace: A Dark Divine Novel(73)

“Because I’m the Divine One,” I said. “I’m the one you came here for.”

“Lies. The Divine One is not an infant.”

“I am older than I look,” I said, but I realized that, to someone as old as Sirhan, I probably did look like an infant. “Tell them who I am, Gabriel.”

Gabriel slowly pushed himself up to a standing position against the side of one of the SUVs. “She speaks the truth. I told you the Divine One was a teenage girl.”

The guard holding my wrist gasped and let go.

“Lies and tricks,” Sirhan said. “The Divine One is great and powerful. This tiny imposter should be killed.”

“I am not an imposter.” I didn’t exactly know what being the “Divine One” meant to Sirhan and his pack, but based on what Sirhan said, it seemed as though the very idea of me had grown to mythical proportions.

They expected me to be powerful, and I had to do something to prove to them that I wasn’t lying.

I turned toward the young woman in the green robe. She knelt in the grass, trying to hold her bloody, nearly severed ear in place. She looked like she was only a few years older than I was, but with the Urbat, you really never could tell for sure. I went and knelt next to her. “Are you okay?” I asked.

“Hurts like, you know, someone cut off my ear,” she said, wincing. “Don’t think I can heal this one. But hey, at least I’ll save money on earrings.” She smiled weakly, despite the pain that flashed in her eyes.

I almost laughed, not expecting her to be so … nice. “I can help you,” I said, and cupped my hand over hers and pressed it against her head. Her fingers were warm and slick with blood. I knew I was supposed to draw on my love for someone in order to call on my healing powers, but I’d never met this woman before. We were strangers. Yet at the same time she fascinated me. The only other female Urbat I’d ever met. That made us connected, and I drew on that as I closed my eyes and concentrated my powers into the hand that was clasped over hers. I could feel the heat pulsing and swelling, growing as hot as a flatiron.

She winced and then let out a small cry.

“What is she doing?” one of the spearmen asked—presumably about me. “Get her away!”

One of the guards moved toward us.

“Stop,” Daniel said. “She’s healing your pack mate.”

“Impossible,” Sirhan called from inside the limo. “She can’t possibly be strong enough. Only the most powerful of Urbats can heal others. And nobody can do it alone.”

In my haste, I’d forgotten that it supposedly took two people to channel the healing power into someone else. Yet at the same time, I knew I could do it.

I was doing it.

The heat finally dissipated, and I stood, pulling the young woman up with me. I let go of her hand, and she dropped her own away from her head.

Gasps rippled through the crowd around us.

“Doesn’t even hurt,” the young woman said, prodding her newly healed ear. “I can’t even feel a scar.”

“You see,” Gabriel called toward the limo. “No mere child could do that. Grace is the Divine One.”

A deep, aching fatigue filled my body—the side effect of using my powers to heal someone else. But I tried not to let it show as I walked toward the limo. The spearmen didn’t even try to stop me.

“You know who I am,” I called to Sirhan. “And I know what you want, old man. But I’m not going to give it to you unless you guarantee that Daniel goes free—and that the rest of my pack, my family, go unharmed.”

“Come closer,” Sirhan’s voice beckoned from inside the limo.

I walked slowly but deliberately toward the open window. The first thing I noticed was that the hand I’d seen earlier indeed didn’t look human. It was dark gray and leathery, mottled with short grayish-black hairs. No, it was fur. The fingers were unhumanly long, and looked even longer tipped with sharp, wolflike black claws. The hand was a freakish mix of beast and human.

“Look at me, child,” Sirhan said.

My vision snapped from the beastly hand to the face that glared at me through the open window. I stifled a gasp, but let my eyes grow wide—dilating enough in the dark to really see what was in front of me: a face that was also a grotesque mixture of animal and human. He had yellow eyes and a snout instead of a normal nose and jaw. His ears, on the sides of his head, came to mutant-looking points at the top.

“Are you afraid of me, child?” he asked. His blackened gums held pointed teeth—like I was staring into the mouth of a wolf.

“No,” I said.

“Then tell me, what is it that you think I want. What could you give me to ensure the safety of the ones you love?”

I looked him over—not only was he a mixture of man and beast, his body also looked decrepit and fragile. A thin plastic tube with two little nodules hung around his neck. I recognized what it was from the hospital—an oxygen feed. He must have pulled it from his animal-like nostrils just to speak to me.

“You’re dying,” I said. “And you want to be cured so your soul will be free from the wolf before you pass. Healing people isn’t the only thing I can do, as I’m sure you’ve heard or you wouldn’t be here. If you meet my demands, I will provide the cure for you.”