The Dark Divine

"Yeah, well, bad things happen to bad people. Didn't you think about that? They get what they deserve."

A shiver ran through me. "What about Marya

Jude jerked his head up. "Something? Try someone. You're so blind you don't even see it, Grace. You're letting Daniel walk all over you--just like Dad."

"We're helping him. He needs us--all of us."

"He's using you. He's using you both. I saw him with you that night on Markham. Do you really think it was a coincidence that he just happened along? April told me what you've done for him." His eyes narrowed as he looked at the fallen blanket around my ankles. "And I can only imagine what you've done with him."

"Jude!" What a hypocrite. "You don't even know what you're talking about."

"Don't I? Daniel will do anything to get what he wants." Jude glared at me. "Tell me, whose idea was it to help him get back into your art class? Whose idea was it to invite him to Thanksgiving di

"Were they really? Think about it, Grace. Daniel didn't somehow plant those ideas in your head? Subtly suggest how you could help him?"

I paused. "None of that matters. He's not manipulating me, and he's not manipulating Dad."

"Ha!" Jude smirked. "How do you think Daniel even got into Holy Trinity? Who do you think brought him back here? He's got Dad under his spell ... and for all you know, Daniel's the one who stole James. He sure did find him easily, don't you think? It's just the kind of thing someone like him would do. Pretend to find a baby so people will think he's a hero."

"He wasn't pretending. I was with him. He found him so easily because of his abilities. ..."

Jude fell into the swing. His eyes wide. His mouth open.

Did I say too much?

"So you know," Jude rubbed his hand across his scars. "You know what he is?" "Yes."

"What did he tell you?"

I wasn't sure how to answer. Daniel hadn't asked me to keep it a secret. He'd know better than that with me. But still, how much could I say if I wasn't sure Jude was just baiting me for answers? But I had to be honest if I wanted Jude to be the same. "Daniel is an Urbat. His people were created to light demons. He's a Hound of

Heaven."

"Urbat? Hound of Heaven?" Jude laughed. It sounded like a harsh, high growl. "Look it up, Grace. Daniel's screwed you over good."

"No, he hasn't. He's lost and frightened and he needs us. I can help him be a hero." I hadn't thought it before I said it. But I realized that's what I had to do--that was my role in all of this. "1 can show him that he can use his abilities to help people. They're a blessing; that's what he told me."

Jude shot up from the swing. "Then that monster is a bar as well as a thief and a murderer."

"Murderer?" I backed away and almost fell off the porch. "I don't believe you. You're jealous of him. You're jealous of the way Dad believed him over you. You can't stand that Dad and I want him to be a part of this family again. You're even making crazy accusations against me. How can I believe anything you have to say?"

"Then you ask him," Jude said. "Go ask your precious Daniel about the night he tried to take that coat from me. Ask him what he did with all the money he stole. Ask him what really happened to those stained-glass windows in the parish. Ask him what he really is." Jude slammed the swing into the wall. "You ask him what it felt like when he left me for dead."

"What?" I stumbled backward and caught myself with the railing. It felt like the wind had been knocked right out of my chest. "No ..."

He lunged off the porch and ran down the driveway.

"Jude!" I shouted after him. But he didn't stop. He kept on ru

Chapter Sixteen undone

AROUND TWO IN THE MORNING

Once I had this blouse. It was emerald-green with smooth, expensive-looking buttons. Even though it was on sale, Mom said it cost too much. But I wanted it, so I made a deal with Mom and gave up two whole months of Saturday nights for babysitting so I could pay her back. I earned the shirt just in time to wear it to Pete Bradshaw's sixteenth birthday party. I was asked to dance by five different guys. But later that evening, I noticed a thin green thread hanging from the sleeve. I tried to tuck it into to the cuff, but it kept falling out again. It seemed to get longer each time, so I finally pulled at it and tried to break it off for good. But when I yanked, the entire sleeve split up the seam to the shoulder, and I was left with a gaping hole in my favorite new shirt.

I felt that way now about my life. I'd pulled, or pushed, or picked, or yanked too hard, and everything seemed to be coming apart at the seams. Actually, my brother was the one who was falling apart, and all I knew is that it was my fault--and I didn't know how to fix it. Jude used to be a saint compared to most teenage guys, so what could have possibly caused him to make up such hurtful lies about Daniel?

Jude had to be lying, I tried to tell myself over and over again.

He was flinging accusations in every direction, hoping one would stick. The things he said couldn't be anything but lies.

How could I feel the way I did about Daniel otherwise?

I heard Jude tell April that my father knew what Daniel had done. But Dad wouldn't let Daniel anywhere near us if Jude's lies were true. And I knew that he didn't hurt

Marya

But as I lay in bed, I felt like I was floating in Jude's and Daniel's words.

I'm no hero. No one can love me.

Monster, liar, thief, murderer.

Monster. Jude had called Daniel a monster.

Urbat? Hound of Heaven? Look it up, Grace.

I sprang out of bed and over to my desk, yanked the cord out of the phone, and plugged it into my computer. My parents had given me Dad's old desktop with the stipulation that I wasn't to access the Internet from my room. Web surfing was strictly reserved for the computer in the family room, where Mom could check the browsing history on a regular basis. But tonight was an exception. I had to know something. And I didn't want anyone to see what I was doing.

I waited for the computer to boot up and then logged on to the Internet. I pulled up Google and typed in "Hounds of Heaven." The cursor turned into a little hourglass and I waited more. Finally, the page pulled up several references to the "Hound of Heaven"--all were about a poem some now-dead Catholic guy wrote about how the grace of God chased down the souls of si

I was about to log off when I had another idea. I deleted my search. I started to type U-r ... and then the words Urbat, Sumerian popped up in the search bar. Someone else had used my computer to look up the Urbat. I clicked on search, and a list of