The Lost Saint Page 20

“Where are you taking us?” I tugged my hand from his grasp, expecting him to keep it imprisoned in his, but he let go without hesitation.

“To your car,” he said. “I assume you drove a car here. You don’t seem like the girls who live nearby, and I’m guessing you’re not the public-transit sort.”

I hugged my arms around my bare stomach. I’m sure that only reinforced his assumption that we didn’t belong here.

“We’re the Corolla at the end of the street.” April pointed in the direction of my car, parked near the only working meter we could find. “We drove all the way from Rose Crest.” April sounded all breathless, and I couldn’t help noticing her smiling at the guy in an all-too-friendly way.

“April,” I snapped. I gave her a look that was supposed to say, We don’t know this guy from Adam, so don’t tell him where we live!

“What?” she whispered, not quietly. “The dude just saved our lives … and he’s cute.”

For some reason, heat flushed into my cheeks. I couldn’t deny the guy was attractive—in a down-home boy-from-the-farm sort of way, with his milk-chocolate-brown wavy hair, dimples, green eyes, and massive forearms that made it look like he’d spent hours baling hay. Even his flannel shirt and faded jeans screamed Clark Kent—without the superpowers, that is.

But it certainly didn’t mean anything that I’d noticed all of those things about him, right? And it especially didn’t mean I should trust him right away.

“I think we’re good from here,” I said to him. “Um, thanks for your help.”

“No way. Those guys are going to be pissed,” he said. “I’m not letting you out of my sight until you’re driving far away from here.”

“Really, it’s like two blocks to the car. You can go now.”

“Grace, you’re being rude,” April said. She swooped in and grabbed Mr. Flannel by the arm and pulled him toward the car. “I’m April, by the way. Thank you for helping us. What’s your name?”

“Talbot,” he said, looking back at me as if checking to make sure I was following. Which I was—begrudgingly. “Nathan Talbot, actually. But I go by Talbot. My good friends call me Tal.”

“Well, Tal,” April said, “I’m glad you were there to help us out. We would have been toast without you.”

“Toast?” Talbot asked. The twang in his voice made it sound like he was thoroughly amused by April’s friendliness. “What are you girls doing here anyway? Doesn’t seem like your kind of scene.”

They were too far away for me to kick April in the shin before she could share any more information about us. “We’re looking for Grace’s brother. His name’s Jude Divine. He’s missing, and we think he may have been hanging out at that club.”

Talbot stopped and turned back toward me. I almost ran right into his chest again. “Really?” he asked. “What does your brother look like? Maybe I can help.”

I looked up at him. He grinned down at me with a friendly smile that made his dimples extra pronounced. Something about him put me on edge—made my heart beat faster when he looked at me. Maybe it was the way everyone else in the club had seemed a little bit afraid of him.

Talbot put his hand on my shoulder. “You can trust me.”

And there it was: the shape of his mouth or the tone of his voice—something I still couldn’t place—caused a wave of warm familiarity to ripple through my body. That same feeling had made me want to trust him in the club, so why not trust him now? He’d saved us from those guys, after all.

“I don’t know for sure what my brother looks like anymore,” I said. “I haven’t seen him in almost a year.” I remembered how much Daniel had changed physically in the three years while he was gone. Jude could look like anyone these days—especially if he was trying to hide. I pulled out my cell phone and scrolled to the very first photo I’d taken the day I got it—the day before Jude ran away. I’d snapped a picture of Jude as he looked at the moonstone ring Dad had given him.

I handed the phone to Talbot. “It’s kind of hard to tell in that picture because he’s looking down, but Jude’s, like, seven inches taller than me, and he has a lot squarer jaw. He had short, dark brown hair the same color as mine the last time I saw him. And we’ve always had the same nose and violet eyes.”

“Hmm.” Talbot held the phone up next to my head. He bit his lip while he studied the picture on the phone and then my face. I couldn’t help but stare back at him. It was then that I realized that despite the dimples, he had a more mature fullness to his face than most teenage guys I knew. If I had to guess, I’d say he was probably about twenty-one or twenty-two years old. Talbot reached out and brushed my hair off the side of my face as if to help him see my profile better. He took a small step closer and studied me for another moment. I held my breath for every second of it.

“Nope, sorry. Haven’t seen him,” he finally said. He handed back my phone, his warm fingers brushing against my skin. “I’m pretty sure I’d remember eyes like yours.”

Heat crept into my cheeks again. I dropped my gaze and stepped away.

“Well, we’re here.” I motioned toward the Corolla about twenty feet away. “Um, thanks for your help back there.”

“Yes, thank you, Tal!” April looked like she was about to spring a bear hug on the poor boy.

Talbot held up his hands. “No problem. It’s what I’m here for.”

“Good-bye!” April waved at him while I dragged her to the car.

“Hey, Grace Divine?” Talbot called after me.

I glanced back at him. “Yeah?”

“See you around.”

“Okay,” I said, but I don’t know why—it wasn’t like I was ever going to see him again.

IN THE CAR

“You should so totally go for him!” April blurted out as we pulled away from the curb.

“What are you talking about?” I checked my rearview mirror and saw Talbot standing like a sentinel on the sidewalk. He wasn’t kidding about keeping an eye on us until we were driving away. “I already have a boyfriend.”

“Okay, I will concede to the fact that Daniel is wicked hot, but Tal is like a delicious new treat, don’t you think?” April trembled in that excited way of hers. “Did you see how those other guys practically ran away from him?” She squealed and sank into her seat with a dramatic sigh.