The Lost Saint by Bree Despain

Author:Bree Despain [Despain, Bree]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 978-1-60684-200-3
Publisher: EgmontUSA
Published: 2010-12-27T16:00:00+00:00

A FEW MINUTES LATER

Talbot hitched his backpack over both of his shoulders and led me to the end of the block. He stopped at the corner with his nose in the air. The street was empty except for an old woman sitting at a bus stop. “You smell that?” Talbot took in a quick breath.

I did the same. “Yeah, it’s that same sour-milk, rotting-meat odor.”

Talbot nodded with approval. “We’re on their trail.” He took me by the elbow and we crossed the street, Talbot still testing the air. “Yes, this is the way they went. They were on foot.”

“With a six-hundred-pound safe?” My voice held more than just a hint of disbelief.

“Don’t underestimate demons, kid. Those Gelals went down easy the other day. Too easy, if you ask me.”

My stomach did a little flip-flop. That had been easy?

“You ready for the next section of your test?”

“Yeah. Sure. I guess.”

Talbot still had me by the elbow, and he pulled me in close to him, our bodies almost touching. He stooped his head so his face nestled close to my neck, and he took in a long, deep breath. When he let the air out, it tickled across my skin, sending tingling goose bumps down my back.

“Did you just smell my hair?” I asked, my voice sounding far too unstable.

“I’m getting your scent. You should get mine, too, in case we get separated.”

“Get your scent?” I almost laughed, because I couldn’t help thinking of myself as one of those tracking dogs that the police make smell a lost kid’s shirt or something before they set out looking for him.

Talbot pulled me closer, my lips practically skimming his neck. His hand squeezed my elbow tight. I took in a deep breath and held it in the back of my throat. Talbot smelled like mint gum, fresh sawdust, and something else that I probably wouldn’t have been able to pick up without my developing wolf sense. He smelled like my dog Daisy used to when she’d spent the morning lazing in the sun on the back porch. It was a smell that I’d always found slightly unpleasant in the past—especially when she’d try to nap on my bed smelling like that—but now it made my toes curl with the memory of warm, familiar things.

“You smell like lavender and vanilla,” Talbot said. He was so close I could feel his words, warm like sunlight, against my face. He tugged on one of my dark curls.

I took a step back. I’d let him get too close. “It’s just my shampoo.”

“Well, it’s nice and trackable, in case I need to double back to find you. You got my scent?”

I nodded.

“Now that’s just plan B in case you lose your way. I want you to focus your concentration on the Gelal and Akh scents. But their trail is old and fading, so don’t feel bad if you lose it. My trail will be nice and fresh if we do get separated, so fall back on that.” He smiled, all dimply.

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