Бри Деспейн - The Dark Divine

"Grace?" he asked, his voice sounding hurt. "What's wrong:

"Nothing." Heat tingled up my neck. "Look at me then."

I gazed up into his eyes. They were deep and soft and familiar. My brother had to be lying.

"I don't think you should be here just as much as you think you should go," he said. "But I can't send you away like this. Tell me what happened."

"Jude."

Daniel's eyes shifted downward. He moved the broken plate with his bare foot.

"I don't know what's wrong with him. He's not himself. He's making all these crazy accusations against you." I bit my lip. "He called you a monster. He said that you were using me. And he said other awful things about you. Things you did."

Daniel moved his hands away from my waist and crossed his arms in front of his naked chest.

"I refused to believe him. I didn't think you could do those things." I paused. "But he said that you were lying about the Urbat. I know it doesn't mean "Hounds of

Heaven.'" I sucked in a breath. "You lied to me ... and now I don't know what to believe anymore."

Daniel looked up at the ceiling. "I'm sorry, Grace. I should have stayed away from you. He told me to keep away from you and Jude, but I couldn't. I saw your name in that art class, and I had to know. I told myself that if you could look me in the eyes ... then maybe you could still love me. Maybe there was hope for me after all." A tear ran down his face. He wiped at it with his knuckles. "But I was selfish. I didn't care what it would do to you or Jude. All I wanted was your love, and now I know that's the one thing I can never have."

"Yes, you can." I touched his bare, sinewy bicep. "Just be honest with me. I can help you if I know the truth."

"You can't help me." He turned away and gripped the edge of the counter. "1 could never ask."

"You don't have to ask. I know what I'm supposed to do."

The muscles in Daniel's shoulders went rigid. "You can't possibly ..."

"I figured it out. I'm supposed to help you use your abilities to help people. I'm the one who can turn you into a ... a superhero."

"Damn it, Grace!" he roared. The counter creaked and groaned under his white-knuckled grasp. "Who the hell do you think I am? A superhero? I'm not Peter Parker.

I'm not your own damn Clark Kent. Your brother told you right--I am a monster!"

"No, you're not. I can--"

"I'm using you, Grace," he snarled. "You think I can he saved, but I can't. You don't even know what I'm capable of!" He swept the second plate off the counter. It exploded at my feet.

I jumped back, my shoes crunching on broken glass. "I don't care," I yelled at him. "I don't care if you're using me. And I don't care what lies my brother tells about you.

That person he's describing isn't you."

He reeled on me, his eyes black and empty. "And who is that person?" he said. "What did Jude say about me? Because I'm pretty damn sure he knows exactly what I am."

I looked away at the cat-shaped clock above the stove.

"He said you were a bar and a thief and a murderer," I whispered. "He told me to ask you what it felt like when you left him for dead."

Daniel drew in a deep breath and let it out. "Like every remaining ounce of light and hope was sucked out of the shell I used to call my soul."

"Then it's true?" My voice cracked in my throat. "Tell me what you are. Tell me what you did. I think you at least owe me the truth."

I heard the shifting of broken glass as he moved away. I kept looking at the cat clock. Its eyes swung back and forth with every second that passed until Daniel finally spoke.

"I didn't Lie about the 'Hounds of Heaven,'" he said from the kitchen table. "That's what my ancestors were originally called. Everything I told you was true-- God's light against evil, His blessing on my people--I just didn't tell you the ending to that story."

I turned to look at him. He sat in a kitchen chair, leaning over, his elbows on his knees. He looked down at the floor so all I could see was the top of his shaggy head.

"My ancestors fought the forces of hell for many years. They seemed like an unwavering force against evil; only the devil figured out the flaw in their armor-- the flaw that's in all of us. The Hounds had been blessed with an animal essence that made them strong and agile, but they were still human, with human emotions. What they didn't realize is that the animal, the wolf that lived inside of them, fed on those emotions. The negative ones particularly: pride, jealousy, lust, fear, hate.

"The devil nurtured those feelings. As the Hounds grew more prideful--believing they were superior to all other humans--the wolf inside grew. It influenced their thoughts, their actions, devoured pieces of their souls. Their blessing became their curse.

"They turned their backs on God and his mission. They despised mortals and were hated and feared by them. And then the wolf started to lust for the blood of the ones the Hounds had once sworn to protect. And when a Hound gives in to that bloodlust--as most of them do--and he commits a true predatory act--tries to kill someone--the wolf takes control. It now has the power to take over the Hound's form at will, becoming an embodied wolf. It holds the Hound's mortal soul ransom as it hunts and ravages and kills."

"Is that where the name Urbat comes from?" I asked. "The Dogs of Death?"

He nodded. "There are many names. Hundreds, actually. The Skin-Walkers, Loup-Garou, Oik, Varkolak, Varulv. The name you are probably most familiar with is

Werewolf."

"Werewolf? Your family are werewolves?" I stepped back. "Are you ... Are you a ... ?"

"A wolf in boy's clothing?" He wasn't joking. "I'm a hybrid actually. My mother was full human. My father was the Kalbi. He was the beast." Daniel looked up at me. "What

I told you about the Urbat living in packs was true. They live together for protection and kinship." He lingered his necklace. "Many of them try to control the wolf; others like the taste of blood. My father was one of the latter. He challenged the alpha of his pack and lost. The alpha banished him instead of ripping out his throat--that was a big mistake.

"My father wandered for a while. But a wolf's greatest instinct is for a pack, a family. He ended up in Rose Crest, where he chose a woman he could dominate. He tried living as a mortal with her. But then I came into the picture. I think he sensed he wouldn't be able to control me as easily ... and that made him crazy. I drove him to hunting again."

"Your father"--I could barely bring myself to ask-- "he was the Markham Street Monster, wasn't he?" I thought about how his father seemed to sleep all day. How he worked a night shift at a warehouse near the shelter on Markham. How all those strange things stopped happening around the time he skipped town. "He killed all those people."

Daniel lowered his head even more. He didn't need to answer.

"And you were born with the wolf's essence, too?"

Daniel reached down and scooped up a few shards of broken plate. He held them in his open palm. "My wolf wasn't as strong when I was younger--probably because I wasn't a purebred. Gabriel says there are some descendants of the Hounds who are so mixed in breed they probably don't feel it much at all." He closed his hand over the bits of glass and squeezed. He winced and opened his bloody palm. "I didn't know the truth then about my family. All I knew was that there was something very wrong with my father--which is how I discovered that I could heal faster than normal people. That I could heal myself."

He closed his eyes and pursed his lips. It was like the cuts on his hands sucked the blood back in, then healed over into thin, jagged scars. All that remained in his hand were a few pink bits of glass.

"But as I got older, I felt the monster stirring. I fought it as hard as I could. But I've failed. The wolf took me over, too--turned me into a beast like my father."