Authors: Bree Despain
I turned around and saw Pete Bradshaw strutting toward us from the group of rowdy guys. A thin line of smoke wafted from the cigarette between his fingers. Apparently, he’d taken up smoking since he’d been kicked out of HTA—that, and grown a nasty little goatee. Daniel swore under his breath as Pete walked right up to us.
“First that Mooney retard, and now
you.
” Pete waved his cigarette too close to Daniel’s face.
“Back off, Pete,” I said.
“You gotta expect it. You hang with trash, and sooner or later somebody is going to trash you.”
Pete always tried to pick a fight whenever we ran into him. He had a pretty big chip on his shoulder, since being kicked out of HTA meant he lost his hockey scholarship and his dad refused to pay for anything other than community college.
“Yo, Pete?” one of his friends called from the group near the exit. “This place blows, man. Didn’t you say you know a dude who can get us into The Depot?”
The Depot?
I stuck my hand in my jacket pocket and fingered the plastic card I’d found this morning at Day’s.
Pete glanced back at his friend. “Yeah, Ty. You want
to announce that a little louder to rest of the world?”
“Whatever, let’s go.”
“Good thing for you I’ve got better places to be.” Pete flicked his cigarette at Daniel’s feet. He turned back toward his friends and started to walk away.
Daniel let out a small sigh.
Pete liked to talk the talk, but he usually found an excuse to walk away when Daniel didn’t react to his goading. And I knew I should just let him keep on going, but I couldn’t stop myself from doing what I did next.
“Wait, Pete,” I called after him.
“What?” Pete looked back at me.
“What are you doing, Grace?” Daniel whispered. “Let him go.”
I shook my head. “The Depot? Where is it?” I asked Pete.
He laughed. “You want to go to The Depot?”
“Can you just tell me where it is? It’s important.”
Pete laughed even harder. His friends all watched us now. He took a step toward me. “And what do I get in return for this bit of information? Or are you looking to ditch this piece of trash here and come party with a real man?”
“It was just a question, Pete. Do you have an answer or not?”
“And I asked you what the answer was worth.”
“Shut it, Bradshaw.” Daniel stepped up next to me. “Just forget she asked and leave.”
“Or what? Mooney ain’t around to mess people up for her. And what can you do?”
Daniel clenched his fists at his sides, but he didn’t move.
“That’s what I thought,” Pete said. He turned slightly, like he was about to leave again, but then he suddenly lunged at Daniel and shoved him hard. Daniel stumbled back and fell over the box of trash I’d left by the Dumpster.
“No!” I yelled, and ran to Daniel.
I tried to help him stand, but he waved me off. His face twisted into a terrible wince as he pushed himself up from the asphalt. A red slash painted his forearm, and I gasped when I saw a shard of bloodstained glass sticking out of the box where Daniel had fallen.
“Oh my … Are you okay?”
At the same time I heard someone from the group of guys call to Pete. “You need some help?” The guy named Ty and another one of Pete’s friends approached from the group.
I expected my body to tense, acknowledging the danger surrounding us, and my powers to seep into my muscles with that aching, familiar pain—but nothing happened.
Crap
, I thought. This was no time for my powers to hit the Snooze button. I needed them now.
“You going to fight?” Pete stepped up in front of Daniel. His two friends flanked us on both sides. “Or you gonna let me use you as a punching bag?”
“Better me than Grace,” Daniel said, gripping his bleeding arm.
“How do you know she’s not next?” Pete asked as he pulled back his fist.
“Stop!” I lunged at Pete, but Ty caught me around the waist. I tried to summon my supernatural strength as I kicked at his legs, but he just laughed. I felt like a rag doll when he pushed me aside.
I hit the brick wall of the pub and was momentarily stunned. Then I heard a smacking noise, like fist on face, and then something large stumbled over my feet. I looked down, expecting to find Daniel, but it was Pete who’d hit the ground right in front of me. I heard a louder thud and grunt, and Pete’s unnamed friend fell to his knees beside me, doubled over. Ty threw his hands up and backed away as fast as he could.
Pete moaned and wiped his bleeding nose. “You are a freak,” he said to Daniel as he slowly stood up. “Come on,” he said to his injured friend. “We don’t have time for this trash. Let’s go.” He spat a bloody loogie on the asphalt by my feet.
“You better watch your backs,” Pete called to us before he and the other two rejoined the group of guys. Their loud laughter echoed off the buildings around us as they took off down the street.
Daniel stood next to the Dumpster, his back to me. His shoulders heaved as he breathed in and out, and he clenched his hand over the wound in his arm.
“That was … awesome,” I said. “Who needs superpowers when you can fight like that?”
“Is that all you ever think about?” Daniel asked. “Damn superpowers?”
“What?” His words stung, but I guess I deserved his reproach for making light of the situation. I came up beside him and put my hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything like that. You’re hurt. Let me see your arm. Are you okay?”
“No,” Daniel said, and shook off my touch. He pressed his injured arm against his chest so I couldn’t see his wound. “I need to go home.”
“You probably need to go to the hospital. I’ll drive you.”
“No, I don’t want you to.” He stumbled toward his motorcycle in the Day’s Market lot. “I just need to go home.”
I followed after him. “Are you in shock? You can’t drive a motorcycle like this. You probably need stitches.”
“I’ll be fine.” He climbed onto his bike, his arm still pressed into his chest.
“Damn it, Daniel. Let me help you.”
“You’ve
helped
enough already,” Daniel said, and kicked his bike to life. He twisted the throttle with his good hand, then flew out of the parking lot before I could respond.
He didn’t even look back to see me standing there,
my arms at my sides, not knowing what on earth had just happened.
What did he mean by saying that I’d
helped
enough already?
I hadn’t been able to
do
anything.
I sat in my car in the parking lot for a good ten minutes, debating whether or not I should follow Daniel home to make sure he got there all right. And then force him to go to the ER to get his cut checked out. But he’d been so adamant about not wanting me to help him that I worried he’d only get angrier if I showed up uninvited. Perhaps it was best to let him cool off. Maybe call him in a couple of hours to make sure he was okay.
But a creeping thought kept bothering me as I started my car. Was Daniel just pissed at me for causing that fight with Pete, or was it possible that he didn’t want my help because he thought I didn’t have enough control over my powers to handle the sight of his blood?
I turned on the car radio, trying to drown out my guilty thoughts, and listened to the news report on the local Rose Crest station. They were discussing the attempted break-in at the school and how it might relate to Day’s Market. The reporter speculated that the burglar must have been scared off somehow, because nothing was missing from the school. But, of
course, the school’s security cameras were blank.
I flipped off the radio and discovered my phone ringing deep within my backpack, which I’d left in the car all afternoon. What kind of calls could I have missed? What if Jude had tried to contact me again?
I looked at the display and sighed with relief.
“Hey, Dad,” I said into the phone. “You got my messages?”
“Yes.” Dad sounded so tired, and I could barely hear him over the din on his end of the phone. “Tell me what happened?”
I told him all about the phone call from Jude, trying to recount it word for word. Then I told him about how Jude had been in Daniel’s apartment in Maryanne’s basement.
Dad was silent for a moment. “All this searching for him, and he was practically in our own backyard,” he finally said. He sounded angry, shocked, and relieved all at the same time. “Anything else? Have you heard from him again?”
“No.” I hesitated for a moment. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to share Daniel’s theory with Dad, but I knew I shouldn’t hold anything back that might help find Jude. “Nothing definitive, anyway, but I think he may have actually been in our backyard.” I told Dad about James’s seeing something at his window, then the ransacking of Day’s Market, and the attempted break-in at the school.
“Daniel thinks it’s Jude.” I was just pulling into our
driveway, and I decided to sit in the idling car until I was done talking to Dad—I didn’t want anyone to overhear our conversation.
“That’s a logical conclusion,” Dad said. “It makes sense.”
“Does it? Why would he do those things? Why is he back?”
“I don’t know, Gracie.” He sighed, and I heard some announcer’s voice in the background. He must have been at an airport or a train station. “I really don’t know.”
“Are you on your way home?”
“No,” he said. “I don’t know when I’ll be back.”
“What? But Jude was here. Why aren’t you coming—?”
“I need to go. It’s the last call for my train. I’ll explain later, but I don’t know when I’ll be home.”
Anger surged inside of me. Dad was gone all the time, and I’d thought it was because he was desperately looking for Jude—looking for a way to make our family whole again. But maybe it was us he was trying to stay away from? Why else wouldn’t he come home now? Right now when we needed him most.
“Fine. Just don’t forget where you live in the meantime,” I said.
“I’m sorry. I’ll come home as soon as I can.” Then he called to someone else on his end, “Yes, that’s my bag. I’m coming.” He cleared his throat and spoke back into the phone again. “One last thing, Gracie. You are not,
under any circumstances, allowed to go looking for Jude on your own.”
I made a scoffing noise. It would have been a laugh if I hadn’t been so upset. I just found it funny and annoying at the same time that Dad would say the same thing as Daniel. Like they thought I wasn’t capable of
not
going out and looking for Jude.
“Just don’t, Gracie. You aren’t prepared for what you might find.…” He sighed heavily into the phone. “And we’ve already lost one child. Your mother would never survive if you left us, too.”
Mom was asleep on the couch when I finally went inside, the evening news playing in the background. I didn’t bother to wake her and went straight up the stairs. I was more than exhausted, drained of everything, and I could barely keep my eyes open. I was halfway to my bed when Baby James started crying in his room. It was a whimpering, frightened whine, growing louder and louder. I pushed his door open and looked in on him. He sat in his toddler-sized bed, rubbing his eyes. With the light from the hallway, I could see big, fat tears running down his red-splotched face.
“It’s okay.” I dropped my backpack in his doorway and scooped him up in my arms. “It’s okay, Baby James.”
“Not baby,” James said through his sobs. He was only two and half and was already starting to resist his family pet name.
“You’re right. You’re a big boy, huh?”
James nodded and cuddled close into my shoulder.
“Did you have another bad dream?”
“Yuh.” He trembled in my arms.
“It’s okay.” I curled up with him in his tiny bed and brushed my fingers through his brown curls. “It’s okay. I’m here. I’ll protect you … I promise.”
James smiled through his tears and patted my face. Within a few minutes his breathing became heavy and deep. His eyes closed, and he fell fast asleep with his fingers wrapped around a fistful of my hair.
I watched his chest rise and fall, thinking about everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours, knowing that something terrible was trying to tear apart my little world. The crimes of the city were spreading to my hometown. Jude had been here, staring in at our little brother with his silver, glowing eyes. I didn’t know Jude’s intentions, and I didn’t know how he was connected to what had happened at Day’s or at the school, but all of this made it feel like the sky was about to come crashing down on us at any given moment.