"It develops with age ... and experiences."

"Superpowers are a little more intense than 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? Rut then again, up until today, I thought people with super strength 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 back flip 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?