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The hilt of the knife slipped in my sweaty hand. I'd told Daniel I would be there when he needed
me. I'd be there to save him before he died. I'd free his soul. But I'd thought that would be years
away. Not today.
Not now.
Pain seared from the gash in my arm--like fire spreading through my entire body--engulfing me.
This was no ordinary wound. It was the bite of a werewolf, the bite of my brother. I was infected.
I carried the wolf curse now.
The same curse that dictated that if I ever tried to kill someone--if I killed Daniel now--the wolf
would take me over, too.
I would lose myself.
The choice is yours to make, my father had told me.
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But he had no idea what an impossible choice it would be. I could save Daniel's soul or preserve
my own. I could be his angel and become a demon.
The black wolf's chest sank. It lay so limp. The gray wolf hacked up across the balcony, readying
itself to deal the ultimate killing blow.
I could not break this promise.
I am grace.
I flew at the black wolf, raised the knife, and plunged it into the diamond patch of fur on his
chest. I will be the monster for yon.
The gray wolf came barreling right behind me. It rammed its head at the black wolf's body, and
the two crashed through the balcony railing. A gruesome smacking noise echoed through the
empty sanctuary below.
"No!" I ran down the ancient stairs and tripped at the bottom. My knees slammed into the stone
tile of the chapel floor. I scrambled on hands and knees to the prostrate body of the black
wolf--to Daniel. I laid his furry head in my lap, and stroked behind his ears. They felt too cold.
The knife was still stuck in his chest. Blood spattered the floor all around us.
Where's Jude?
My gaze followed a smear of blood across the stone floor. Jude--human, naked--stood trembling
behind the altar in the shadows of the sanctuary.
"Don't just stand there," I shouted at him. "Go for help."
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But he didn't move. He stood like a pillar of salt in the dark.
I couldn't leave Daniel. I told him I'd he there when he died. I slid down on the floor and lay next
to his furry body.
Why didn't he turn human? Did I fail? Did I hesitate too long? Was I too late to save his soul
before ... ? Did I trade myself for nothing?
A cold wind blew over me. Snowflakes encircled us. One landed on the wolf's nose and melted.
When did it start to snow? I thought as I laid my head on Daniel's bloodstained chest. I listened
to a solitary heartbeat grow softer and softer until it was nothing, and waited for my wolf to
come--to take me over for what I'd done.
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Chapter Twenty-eight Redemption
IN THE SANCTUARY
I heard a yelp from somewhere beside me. I looked up and saw April quavering in her pink dress
in the open chapel doors. The snow blew in from behind her. "What hap--?"
"Don't ask questions." I sat up. "Please, just go call an ambulance."
I looked at the Daniel wolf. It lay too still, lifeless. The silver knife protruded from his chest.
Maybe I didn't ram it in hard enough? Maybe I didn't pierce his heart? Or maybe I needed to take
it out. The book had said silver was poison.
I tentatively wrapped my hand around the hilt. It didn't burn my skin.
"What on earth are you doing?" April asked, still in the doorway.
"Go. Please get help."
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I gripped the knife tighter, and pulled with all my might. The blade slid out with a sickening
sucking sound. Blood spurted from the wound, spreading across his chest, staining the white
patch of his fur. But then, instead of flowing out, the blood stopped. It curled, rolling back into
the wound. The puncture matted over in scabs, then healed into white flesh.
White skin that matched the rest of his body--his human body. Daniel was with me now, not
some furry beast. He lay on his side in a fetal huddle like he'd just been reborn. His naked body
was ripped and bloody in several places, including his neck. But he was human, mortal. I'd saved
his soul before he died. And that's all I thought mattered . . , until he coughed.
"Grace," he rasped.
I slid my hand down his arm and entwined my fingers with his. "I'm here," I said. "I'm here."
"Um..." April said with more than a hint of shock. "I think I'll go for help now."
Moonlight spilled in from the doorway when she moved, casting its ghostly paleness onto
Daniel. His hair looked almost white.
"Daniel, I'm so sorry." I cupped his face in my hands. "But you better the hell not die on me!"
His wry smile slid across his face. He opened his eyes. They were dark as mud pies and more
familiar than ever. "Bossy as ever," he said. He coughed and closed his eyes again.
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"I'll love you always," I whispered. I kissed him on his cold lips and held his hand until I heard
the sirens, and someone pulled me away from him.
LIFE AS I KNOW IT
It snowed for seven days straight. After the first day, the police released Jude and me into my
parents' custody. They couldn't find any witnesses who could ID us as the ones who ran from the
school. And since none of us seemed to "remember" what exactly had happened, all they could
determine within any sort of reason was that we had been attacked by a pack of wild dogs--the
same elusive pack they were blaming for what happened to Maryanne and Jessica--and had run
into the parish for safety.
Daniel's wounds were consistent with a wolf attack-- no one could explain the no-clothing part,
though--but Jude and I looked untouched by the next morning. My bruises were gone, and the
bite mark in my arm had healed over into a pink, crescent-shaped scar.
Jude was just as unharmed physically. But the doctor reported that he was suffering from some
sort of posttraumatic stress or something, and prescribed a heavy sedative after Jude had a
violent episode when Dad finally got to the station from the airport early in the morning. I
realized now that the only thing that probably kept Daniel from coming after my family when he
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first became a werewolf was all the drugs he was using.
My feigned amnesia faltered only with the details of what happened in the alley. Strategically, I
remembered how Pete had attacked me, and how Don had saved me. Pete was the one who went
to the police after he stumbled from the alley--leaving me behind--but the police decided to hold
him, and his thirteen stitches, for further questioning. I'd forgiven him for what he'd done to me,
but that didn't mean there shouldn't be consequences for his actions.
The second and third day I spent in the hospital, pacing up and down the corridor outside
Daniel's ICU room until the nurses told me I had to leave. "Go home," they said. "Get some rest,
child. We'll call if there's any change."
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