The Savage Grace - Page 68/96

“I hope Sirhan can hold on,” I said to Daniel.

“Me, too,” he said. His voice sounded like the weight of the whole world suddenly rested on his shoulders.

Chapter Twenty-nine

ANTICIPATION

LATE THAT SAME EVENING

The next couple of hours were spent making sleeping arrangements for our thirty-five or so unexpected guests. Rose Crest doesn’t have any hotels, and most of the pack Elders weren’t too keen on staying too far away from Sirhan, so Mom and I rummaged through the storage closets at the house. We pulled out blankets, old decorative pillows, and bolts of cloth—anything that could make a few bedrolls.

It was strange, really, that only a couple hours before I had been worried these Urbats were going to kill us—and now one of my biggest concerns was for their comfort as they slept on the cold hardwood floor of the parish social hall.

But now that they’d accepted Daniel as Sirhan’s successor, and me as Daniel’s alpha mate, they treated us with the utmost respect.

“I could only find stuff for about twenty people,” I said when I showed up at the parish with a few boxes of old baby quilts, sheets, and sleeping bags.

“I guess it will have to do,” Jude said, and took one of the boxes out of my arms. I smiled at him, remembering the time we’d spent together as siblings, sorting through boxes for the annual Thanksgiving charity drive each year. Working with him now almost felt like old times.

April grabbed a couple of sleeping bags.

Lisa Jordan picked up a set of threadbare Star Wars–themed sheets out of one of the boxes—the same set Jude, Daniel, and I used to make tents out of in the family room for movie night when we were little. “I don’t think I’ve roughed it since 1991,” she said. “Not since Sirhan took me in.”

For some reason, I’d always imagined that a werewolf pack that lived in the mountains would be roughing it all the time. Living in campers or caves or something. However, based on the fleet of practically brand-new Cadillac Escalades—not to mention the Aston Martin Rapide—and the quality of the pack members’ velvet robes, I’d started picturing Sirhan’s compound looking more like a fine European manor with at least a dozen garages attached.

I guess if you’ve been around for almost a thousand years, you probably learn a thing or two about long-term investing. It was obvious Sirhan and his pack were swimming in money. No wonder someone like Caleb coveted control of this pack—I imagine it came not only with power, but also with Sirhan’s estate.

“I guess some of them can stay at my house,” April said. “My mom is on a business trip, and we’ve got two extra bedrooms.”

I looked at her. April was offering her home to a bunch of werewolves to spend the night? For some reason, I wasn’t shocked.

Lisa dropped the sheets and popped up on her toes. “Do you have HBO?” she asked. “Sirhan doesn’t allow TV in the compound. I haven’t seen a movie in years.”

“Yeah,” April said.

“And licorice. Do you have popcorn and licorice? We could have a girls’ night!” Lisa looked happier than a puppy with a brand-new chew toy.

April smiled. “And I just got a new pedicure set.”

Lisa squealed, clapping her hands on April’s arms. “I haven’t painted someone else’s nails since the 1980s. You know how hard it is living with a bunch of grumpy old werewolves? Not another girl in sight for miles.”

“You want to join us, Grace?” April asked with a hopeful smile. “Girls’ night!”

“No, thanks,” I said. “But have fun.” I had way too much on my mind to think about movies and makeovers. I didn’t foresee a “girls’ night” anytime in my near future.

April looked at Jude. “It doesn’t just have to be a girls’ night. You can stay at my house, too. I promise not to paint your nails.”

“No.” Jude shook his head adamantly.

“Ooh, is that your boyfriend?” I heard Lisa ask April when the two made their way to April’s car. A small group of Urbat men followed after them, rolling their eyes. If they wanted comfortable beds to sleep on tonight, they were going to have to put up with the giggly girl squad.

I glanced at Jude, whose eyes followed April with a longing sort of look. “If you want to go with her, I’ll cover with Mom. Just this once.”

Jude shook his head. “I want to stay here tonight. Back in the cage in the basement.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m not taking the easy way out,” he said. “I do want to be home. It’s just that the full moon starts tomorrow. I can already feel its pull.” He squeezed the moonstone pendant we’d given him in his fist. “I just don’t feel comfortable sleeping in the house with the family yet. I think it’s best if I spend the next few nights locked up. Just as an extra precaution.”

“Okay,” I said hesitantly. It had been such a big step to get him to want to leave his cage, I worried that locking him up again would be a step backward in his progress. But then again, his wanting to be locked up for the safety of the family seemed like a reasonable request. I just hoped he wouldn’t stop fighting the good fight.

I walked with him down to the basement. I pulled the gate closed behind him and turned the lock.

“Take the key,” he said.

I tucked it into my pocket for safekeeping.

“See you in the morning,” I said before heading up the stairs.

Jude didn’t answer.

ALMOST MIDNIGHT

Daniel and I decided that it wouldn’t be safe for the lost boys to go back to the Duke house, so when I got back home, I wasn’t surprised to find just about every soft surface in the house occupied by a teenage werewolf. Brent was already asleep on the living room couch; Ryan had made a bed for himself under the dining room table with stacks of pink accent pillows—that must have been donated by Charity because they came from the window seat in her room. Zach snored from Dad’s easy chair, and Slade was staked out on the family room sofa, flipping through channels on the TV. Talbot sat on the floor in front him, sharpening a stake with one of my mother’s kitchen knives.

I was glad they were here—not that the house was any safer, as far as Caleb’s knowledge of it was concerned, but I guess I just felt comfort knowing where they were if something bad happened.