by Bree Despain
I reached for the half-empty goblet in front of him.
Don stopped picking at the Band-Aids on his arm and gave me a huge turkey-in-his-teeth grin. “You look real pretty tonight, Miss Grace.”
I fingered my wet curls and wondered if I’d gained a new admirer for sticking up for him with my father the other day. “Thanks, Don,” I mumbled, and picked up the goblet.
“You were real brave, too,” he said, “going into the woods to find your brother. I wish I’d been there. I’d have protected you from the monster. My granddaddy told me how. He was a real hero.” Don rubbed his injured arm against his chest.
I smiled. But then I thought of the jumbled contents of my father’s office. Mom had taken a load of dishes into the kitchen, but I lowered my voice just in case. “Don, while everyone was searching for James, did you go into the study?”
His eyes shifted sideways. “I … I … was just lookin’ for something. I didn’t mean to make such a mess. Everyone came back inside before I could clean up.” He rocked in his chair like he was about to bolt.
Relief washed over me. “It’s okay, Don.” I smiled at him. “I won’t tell anybody. But you really should put the knife back.”
Don lowered his droopy eyelids. “Yes, Miss Grace.”
Mom came back and noticed me fumbling her china plates with my bandaged hand and sent me off to bed. I went without protest, even though I didn’t have much hope for sleeping—or much hope for anything else. Mom was upset with me for inviting Daniel over; Dad’s roller coaster of despair had hit maximum velocity; my older brother was on the verge of a breakdown of his own; and Daniel was most likely gone. But at least I knew where that knife was. And it hadn’t been stolen by some sinister intruder.
Strange—that was the first time I’d ever thought of Don as harmless.
I lay on top of my bed, my mind racing with all of the strange things that had happened during the day, until the house grew dark and silent. It felt like hours had passed since I heard Don make his loud good-byes. I was still in my clothes, so I decided to get up and change. I pulled off my overalls and shirt and found my most comfortable pair of pajamas. White flannel dotted with little yellow rubber duckies. I was standing in my flannel pants and pink bra when I heard a tapping noise behind me.
I turned and saw a dark silhouette outside my second-story window. I jumped and almost screamed. Images of the study’s bloodstained windowsill ripped through my mind.
“Grace,” came a muffled voice through the glass. The shadow moved closer to the window. It was Daniel.
Embarrassment replaced fear. I crossed my tingling arms in front of my chest—not that I had much to hide, but still. I turned my back to him and grabbed my terry-cloth robe. It was still damp from my shower, but I pulled it on anyway. I went to the window and pushed it open. “What are you doing here?”
Daniel balanced on the sloping roof outside my room. “I promised we’d talk.” He stared at me through the thin mesh screen. “Can I come in?”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Hounds of Heaven
ROOFTOPS
Heat flushed up my arms and chest. I’m sure I went as pink as my bra. I pulled my robe tighter around me.
“I … I can’t let you in.”
Mom hadn’t made me promise, but I felt like I should respect her wishes not to invite Daniel in the house again. It was the least I could do for her now.
“Then you’ll have to come out.” With a flick of his hand, he pushed the screen out of my window. It landed at my feet, looking perfectly untouched. Not mangled and broken like the time Jude had shimmied the screen out of the study’s window just below us. “Come on.” He reached for me through the window frame.
Before I could even think, I put my hand in his. He pulled me up and out and into his arms. He held me to him, his fingers twisting with the sash of my robe against my back.
“I thought you were gone,” I whispered.
“A promise is a promise.” His breath warmed my damp hair. He grasped both of my hands and lowered me to sit next to him on the narrow eave of the roof. He wore jeans now and the red-and-black coat I’d given him. He hadn’t had it with him when he showed up earlier for dinner.
My robe wasn’t as warm as a coat, and my feet were bare, but I didn’t mind. “I’m glad you came back.”
Daniel grinned. It was an almost-grimacing smile—pained. That’s when I noticed, in the dim light from my bedroom, the purplish-green bruise across his cheekbone.
“You’re hurt.” I touched his face.
He leaned his cheek into my hand.
“I’m sorry. You’re hurt because of me. I’m the one who made up the story about the creek. I’m the one who made Jude—”
“Don’t be sorry. None of this was ever your fault.” Daniel clasped his hand over mine. “I’ll be fine soon anyway.”
He closed his eyes and pressed my bandaged hand against his cheekbone. His skin grew warmer under my touch. My palm started to sweat. His skin flared hot. Just as it felt like it was going to burn me, the heat tingled away. Daniel dropped his hand, and I pulled mine back.
His skin was bare. No bruises or marks of any kind.
“You really are a superhero,” I whispered.
Daniel leaned against the house. His feet dangled over the side of the roof. “I’m nothing of the sort.”
“How can you say that? I’ve seen the things you can do. You could totally help people. And you saved James.” I scratched at my bandage. My hand and feet throbbed, and I ached all over. The power to heal myself would come quite in handy right about now. “I wish I could do some of those things.”
He clasped his fingers around his smooth stone necklace. “You wouldn’t like the side effects.”
“Are you kidding? I’d do anything to be like you.”
“No, you wouldn’t.” Daniel glanced at me. His eyes flashed with that hungry glint. “That’s what makes you so special.”
A frightened shiver rushed through my body. Part of me wanted to climb back into my room and lock the window. But most of me wanted him to take me in his arms and run away from everything and everyone.
“You are special, you know,” Daniel said, and brushed my arm.
“Daniel, I …”
Daniel winced and pulled away. He clutched the black necklace tighter and mumbled something I couldn’t understand between sharp breaths.
“Are you okay?” I stretched out my hand to him.
“Please, don’t.” He shrugged off my touch and backed up against the side of the house. He pulled his legs to his chest, as if creating a barrier between us. His body quaked. He closed his eyes, panting. His trembling stopped, but he still clenched his pendant in a rigid fist.
“Is that what gives you your … abilities? The necklace?”
Daniel kept his eyes closed. “No.”
“Then how? What?”
He let air out between his teeth. “I should leave you.”
“But I want to know everything.”
“I’m sorry, Gracie. I really should go.”
I folded my arms. “You’re not getting off that easy. A promise is a promise, remember,” I said in my bossy Grace voice.
Daniel stopped and his mouth edged into a grin. “You have no idea what you do to me.”
I blushed, but I wasn’t going to let him distract me. “Is this why you left town? Or did this happen to you while you were gone? How did you become what you are? Tell me, please.”
“Nothing happened to me. Not exactly. I guess you could say I was born this way.”
“I don’t remember you being like … this.” But then I remembered all those times as a child that he seemed to have bruises in the morning that were gone by the afternoon, or limps that mysteriously disappeared. I remembered how baffled Daniel’s doctor had been when his skull fracture healed in a matter of weeks rather than months.
“It develops with age … and experiences.”
“Superpowers are a little more intense tha
n armpit hair and zits,” I said.
Daniel laughed. “It’s kind of a family thing.” He lowered his voice. “You know what your father says in his sermons about how the devil works—among other things—through flattery, jealousy, and complacency?”
I nodded. That was one of Dad’s favorite subjects.
“Well, the devil wasn’t always so subtle. In the beginning, he used demons, vampires, and other evil spirits to do his bidding. Real things-that-go-bump-in-the-night monsters.” Daniel looked at me for my reaction.
I didn’t know what to say—or even think. Was he being serious? Did he really want me to believe that monsters existed? But then again, up until today, I thought people with superstrength and the ability to heal themselves were just characters from comic books.
When I didn’t respond, Daniel went on. “With demons running loose on the earth, God decided he needed to ‘fight fire with fire,’ so to speak. My family—the Kalbi family—dates back before written language. Back before real civilization even existed. My family was part of a tribe of warriors. They were strong defenders of their land, but they were also stalwart in their belief in God and followed his teachings. He decided to reward them—bless them with special abilities. He infused them with the essence of the most powerful animal in their highland forests, giving them enhanced speed, agility, strength, cunning, and tracking.” He rubbed his hand across his cheekbone. “I’m not sure where the healing ability came from—must have been part of the benefits package.”
“So God made the ultimate soldier in His fight against evil?” My question sounded so logical, even though I still couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
“Exactly. He even marked them with white-blond hair like the angels.” He fingered his shaggy, sandy-brown hair. “Hounds of Heaven. That’s what He called them. Or something like that—the actual word has been lost. The closest I know of is the Sumerian word Urbat. It was their job to track down demons. Keep mortals safe from the wrath of the devil.”
“These … Urbat … what became of them? Why haven’t I ever heard of them before?”
Daniel shrugged. “They overstayed their welcome in the mortal world. There are only a relative handful of them today. They prefer to live in groups—packs, actually. Many of them are artists like me. It must be that animal connection to nature. There’s a group out west. They live in a sort of artists’ colony. I went there for a while. That’s where I met Gabriel.”
“The angel from the garden? You said he gave you that necklace. What is it?”
Daniel touched the black stone. “A piece of the moon.”
“What?” I don’t know why that seemed more impossible to believe than his story.
Daniel smiled at my inquisitive look. He wrapped his arm around my back and let me hold the flat black stone as it hung from his neck. It was surprisingly warm and wasn’t as smooth as it looked. It was slightly porous, like lava rock. I pressed my fingertip into the small crescent carved in the middle.
“It helps me control the things I do.” He stroked his fingers over mine.
I leaned my head against his chest and was surprised I could hear his heart thumping through his coat. His breaths were deep and steady, but his heartbeat seemed erratic. Too fast, but too slow at the same time—almost as if two hearts pounded inside of him. Both telling me to believe his words.
Daniel pulled me closer in his embrace. He traced his hand along the collar of my robe, his fingers grazing my skin. One of his heartbeats quickened, fluttering as it pulsed.
I dropped the stone pendant. It bounced slightly against his chest. “Daniel? If people like you—these Urbat—still exist, does that mean monsters do, too?”
Daniel turned his head away. “I should go now.” He pulled me up with him as he stood.
My feet felt uneven on the slope of the roof. Daniel steadied me. I didn’t want him to leave. I would have kept him with me all night if I could. But I knew he wouldn’t stay. He wouldn’t answer any more questions tonight.
He helped me through the window and popped the screen back in place. “Good night, Grace.”
“Will I see you again?” I placed my hand on the screen that separated us. “You’re not going to disappear now that your secret identity is blown?”
He put his hand against mine, the thin metal mesh between our skin. “Tomorrow. I’ll be here tomorrow. I told your dad I’d fix the fence.” He made no guarantee beyond that.
“I’ll see you then.”
Daniel pulled his hand away.
“Wait,” I said.
He stopped.
“Thank you. For what you did for my dad … out in the backyard.”
Daniel bit his lip. “You saw that?”
I nodded.
His face colored slightly. “Don’t worry about it, Gracie. Your dad was just feeling the aftereffects of what happened today—thinking he’d lost a son forever.” Daniel stepped backward to the edge of the shingled eve. He sprang up onto his toes. “Lock your window,” he said, and did a backflip dive off the roof.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Such Great Heights
IN BED
I curled up with my comforter and tried to make my brain stop whirling. But I couldn’t stop thinking about Daniel: how it felt to be held in his arms, the exhilaration and freedom of running with him in the woods, what he told me about his ancestors … about himself. But most of all, I couldn’t stop wondering why Daniel hadn’t answered my question about the existence of monsters.
I have to admit I didn’t know much about that sort of thing—monsters, demons, vampires. A lot of people in the parish thought it was a sin to read books or watch movies about such things. My parents limited the shows we were allowed to watch, and I had friends who were banned from reading the Harry Potter books because they supposedly celebrated witchcraft. I always thought that was silly—those things were just make-believe anyway.
At least that’s what I’d believed.
But restrictions didn’t stop people in Rose Crest from talking. I’d always tried to believe that the Markham Street Monster was just some kind of morality tale to scare us kids into behaving. The stories started out as just sightings of some kind of hairy beast on Markham Street. Then people in that part of the city went missing. Mostly shelter guests, prostitutes, and kids who were wasted, so no one seemed all that concerned. That is until their mangled bodies started turning up on Markham about once a month. At least those were the rumors I’d heard when I was a kid. Things closer to Rose Crest weren’t as bad. Mostly dead animals—like my little dog, Daisy, ripped to pieces. Dad had said it was probably just a raccoon from the woods, but I’d always feared something worse. And what if I was right? What if it had been the Markham Street Monster? What if it had been as close as my front yard?
Those strange things had stopped years ago—before Daniel ever left town—but now they were happening again. Maryanne had died from the cold, but her body had been abused like the ones found on Markham Street. Then James went missing … and the blood on the porch. And I couldn’t forget what had happened while I was stranded on Markham Street itself. What might have happened if Daniel hadn’t come along?
Could it really be a coincidence that any of these things started happening again only after Daniel had come home? Could the monster have followed him here? Or maybe he was the one who was tracking it.
Daniel said he’d returned because of art school, but I’d felt there was something more to it. Was this it? Was the Markham Street Monster back? Was Daniel here to protect us from it?
MORNING
I must have fallen asleep eventually, because I was startled awake by a loud thunk outside my bedroom window. I rolled over and looked at the clock: 6:00 a.m. I heard the thunk again, so I stumbled out of bed and went to investigate. It was mostly dark out, but I could still see that the side yard was empty. The thunking continued. It seemed to be coming from the backyard. My legs were so stiff I practically had to slide down the stairs on my butt.
> I was in the kitchen when I saw Daniel out in the backyard. He was driving a wood fence post into the frozen dirt—with his bare hands. I couldn’t tell for sure because his back was to me, but it looked like he was holding the post in one hand and then swinging his arm, presumably whacking the top of the post with the butt of his hand. No mallet, or hammer, or any tool was even nearby from what I could tell. He’d probably gotten such an early start so he could do it his way.
I was about to go out and join him when I ran my hand through my hair, and my fingers lodged in a nest of snarls. I watched Daniel take another swing, sinking the post a good three inches into the ground, and I suddenly felt compelled to be cleaned and dressed in something more flattering than my flannel yellow-ducky pj’s.
By the time I’d done my makeup, flat-ironed my hair, and changed my sweater three times—why was everything I owned so boxy?—Charity was in the kitchen perusing one of her science books and eating sugared cereal from her private stash. Which meant that Mom wasn’t up yet. The thunking noise had stopped, so hopefully Mom and James would sleep in for a while longer.
I peered out the window. “Did you see where Daniel went?”
“Nope,” Charity grumbled. “I was about ready to go strangle him for making all that racket, but he was gone by the time I got down here.”
“Sorry,” I said, like anything Daniel did was my fault.
“Meh.” She shrugged. “I was gonna get up early today anyway. I’ve got to write a whole first draft for my research paper this weekend.”
“Oh.” I stared farther out the window. “I wonder where he went.”
“The Corolla’s gone. Maybe Dad took him to the hardware store or something.”
Or maybe whoever took the car last night never came home. I didn’t hear the garage door last night, and I hadn’t fallen asleep until at least three a.m. Dad’s study was closed and locked, and the light was out. If Daniel wasn’t with Dad, then where had he gone?
