After not having slept for several years, waking up was a completely new experience.

Ramie jerked awake, the suddenness of it causing her to send a trash can into the opposite wall.

Sitting up on her elbows, she whipped her head towards Hector, who was crouched down beside her.

“Whoa, SuperBabe, it’s ok. We’re friendly.”

She grunted and started to stand up.

“What happened,” she said, checking herself to make sure her knife and the contents of her pockets were all in tact.

Hector stood up and brushed himself off.

“I don’t know. You went all Scarface on those dudes in there, and then booked it to right here where you fainted.”

She huffed and turned angrily towards him. He threw his hands up.

“Or.. Or collapsed. Or whatever.”

Hesitantly, she reached out around them to make sure they were alone. The demon was just as exhausted as she was, whining like a dog at its inability to feel much further than a few feet away from them.

“Damnit,” she said, reaching for her knife.

“Hey, I think we’re ok,” Hector said, almost putting his hand on her arm and then reconsidering. “You were pretty bad ass in there so I don’t think they’re coming for us… at least not right away.”

Ramie wiped her hand down her face. Being without the full use of her powers, and being physically tired, was a nightmare. She felt vulnerable. Weak.

She hated it.

“I gotta get out of here,” with her knife still out, she started towards the other end of the alleyway.

Hector followed her. “Look, I–“

She stumbled and leaned against the wall. It was like all the years of no sleep or food or anything was catching up to her.

“Whoa, hey,” Hector said, catching her before she fell over.

He looked around and then said, “I know where we can go.”

—

“No.”

Ramie was barely able to stand, and had almost her entire body leaning against the brick wall.

Hector had tried carrying her, but she’d resisted so much, he finally just let her walk, dragging behind him as they made their way up town, avoiding any of the main thoroughfares. He’d tried suggesting a taxi, but Ramie refused. A lot of people had seen her in that warehouse, she could risk anyone else finding out about her.

Now they stood across from St. Margaret’s shelter. Light spilled out of the windows and on to the well kept concrete area on front of the building.

“Look, you barely made it here, and this is less than 10 blocks away from where we were. How you gonna make it all the way downtown?”

She closed her eyes, willing herself to stay standing just a little longer. She slipped down the wall a bit. The demon cried out softly.

She looked back up at him. “We could go to your place.”

Hector shook his head. “No way. Not only is it not close, but my mom and sister are there.”

Ramie slipped down the wall a little more. The demon was raging inside her, as angry as she was to be hobbled and weak.

It wasn’t just that she was their secret benefactor. She knew she couldn’t go inside. She imagined Hector calling out for help to get her inside, people gathering around her to see what happened.

They would all see. They would know. Worse, they might get hurt.

Ramie shook her head violently as she slipped all the way down to the ground.

“No… No,” she laid back on the wall, her eyes growing heavy. She started punching her leg to stay awake.

Hector crouched down in front of her. “I’m taking you inside, ok?”

“Oh my gosh, do you need help?”

Hector quickly turned to the voice. A young nun with dark skin and big brown eyes was rushing over to them. She set a bag of groceries down beside them and rushed to Ramie’s side.

She reached out to touch Ramie’s arm and the demon howled. Ramie used whatever energy she had left to jerk her body away, rolling partially on her side, but she wasn’t strong enough to stay there.

She rolled on to her back again. The nun touched her arm.

Anything sacred – anyone sacred – could burn her. She braced herself as best she could for the searing pain, the aftershocks, the fall out from everyone knowing.

But it did not happen. Instead, Ramie started to wake up.

Hector and the nun shifted her body so she was sitting up against the wall. The nun took a bottle of water out of the grocery bag she’d been carrying and offered it to Ramie. She waved it away.

Her body was starting to come back. Her powers were starting to come back.

Hector and the nun were crouched in front of her expectantly.

“I’m fine,” she said, opening her eyes a little more.

“Oh, you are most certainly not fine,” the nun said, settling down in front of her and crossing her legs. She didn’t seem to care they were in a dirty, dank alley way.

“You should come into the center.”

Hector lit up. “That’s what I was trying to tell her!”

They smiled at each other. The nun looked back at Ramie.

“It’s ok. Everyone’s welcome there, no matter what’s going on for them. If it’s drugs, we’ll–“

“It’s not drugs,” Hector said quickly. “She’s just sick is all.”

The nun looked at him quizzically. “Ok well, whatever it is, you’re welcome at St. Margaret’s.”

By now, Ramie was feeling better. Infinitely better.

“I’m fine now, I swear,” She started to get up, but as she did, the folder and papers and news clippings fell out of her jacket.

The nun reached for one of the missing persons fliers. “Rosalie.”

“You know her?” Hector asked.

The nun nodded. “She used to come to the shelter,” she looked at the photo forlornly. “She was schizophrenic, so she would wander away from home. We always kept an eye out for her, and would bring her in when we could. Then we’d call her parents to come get her.”

Ramie was standing now. She reached out to read the nun’s mind.

She saw flashes of the young woman: pulling and twisting her long black hair, talking to herself, walking shoeless around the city.

“Did you know she was missing,” Ramie said, putting the other papers back in her pocket.

“Yes,” the nun said. “Her father came her first, that’s how we found out. We even out up a few of these fliers.”

She looked at it again before handing it back to Ramie.

“Did you know her?” She asked Ramie.

“No,” Hector said, “but my brother’s missing, too.”

“How horrible! I’m so sorry!”

She wrapped her arms around him. She was so fast, he didn’t have time to hug back.

“You both really should come inside,” she said, picking up her groceries. “I’ll fix you food and maybe I can take some fliers to put up about your brother.”

“Sorry sister,” Ramie said. “We’ve got somewhere to be.”

With that, she started walking away.

Hector looked back and forth between them. “I’m sorry,” he said as he hurried off behind Ramie, “it was nice meeting you!”

The nun stood on the sidewalk and watched them go before crossing the street to the shelter.

—

He could sense her, her ebb and flow , her pain and the reverie.

She was beginning to truly use her powers. Meeting their limits and cascading over them.

But the man… He would be a problem.

His brother had been a problem.

No matter. Humans were just toys to him. Once they were together, she would see that, too.

He breathed in the night air deeply. It was brisk. Refreshing.

He picked up the bag at his feet. It dripped on to his shoe.

He ignored it. He had plenty of shoes.

He whistled as he made his way back to his office, a sweeping epic COMPOSER number that had always been his favorite.

—

“Hey! Wait up!”

Ramie frowned, but did not turn or slow down.

“Man, slow down! We gotta talk about what happened back there!”

She did not stop.

He trotted up beside her. “You almost died or SOMETHING. What the hell happened?”

When she didn’t answer, he pumped his arms, gained speed, and threw himself in front of her.

She stopped and they collided. He fell back on to the pavement.

She looked down at him, no expression on her face.

He got up and brushed himself off.

“Are you ok? That’s all I want to know,” he threw his hands up in the air.

She could feel his confusion, mixed with a little fear, and… Caring.

In the years since she’d been possessed, she’d experienced a lot of things. But that was all new.

She was sure she couldn’t die, at least not by human means. She’d experienced a lot of that, too: stabbed, shot, even once fell down an open man hole and was impaled by a rusted rebar.

She’d always healed. Sometimes it took awhile, but she always healed.

She felt for the demon inside her, their uneasy connection. Something in her told her it was not death she would have faced. Just sleep.

“I’m fine,” she said, slipping like oil around him and walking on.

He threw his hands up again, this time as a sign he gave up.

“When will we investigate again?” He called after her.

“Whenever I’m ready,” she said.

—

Sister Louisa was having one of those days. It was very busy at St Margarets, and they were running out of food. It had been getting more and more difficult to keep the center stocked, now that they had more and more people coming in.

Still, she never stopped smiling. As she handed out snacks, cleaned up toys, helped people get to classes or doctors appointments, she was always cheery.

It was just her way. It’s how she’d always been. Her mother had always said she was too nice for her own good, when she would come home without her shoes or her jacket or her favorite toy.

“People are gonna take advantage of you, Louisa, you better watch out.”

But Lou had never worried. As she grew, she tutored students, volunteered, ran charity drives, and would drive into not so great parts of town to help people out.

That’s how she discovered she could heal.

Her grandmother had always said the power ran through their bloodlines, always on the mother’s side, but it has been gone for a few generations.

“It’s just hiding,” she would say, and her mother would tell her not to fill Lou’s head with such thoughts.

But Lou noticed the poultices her mother passed secretly to neighbors, before their mean husbands would go missing or wind up in jail. She tasted the gritty chocolate of the drink her grandmother used to make for her when she was sick, the one that would make her better the very next day, no matter the illness. She saw how people flocked to her aunts and sisters with all their troubles, asking what they should do, how they could make it right.

She’d thought she’d be like them, but she turned out to be something different.

“Lou, Lou, oh my god, you gotta come out here!” Ebony had shouted into the phone. She was crying so much, Lou could barely understand her.

“What’s going on? Where are you?”

“Down at Henry’s, all the way out, please come, Simone’s dying! She’s dying!”

Lou got in her car and drove the 40 minutes out to the sticks, to one of their classmate’s houses out there. Lou didn’t go there often, it was where kids went to party. But she knew where it was.

When she arrived, Simone was barely breathing.

“How long has she been like this?” Lou asked.

“An hour,” Ebony said, still crying, “maybe more.”

“Why didn’t you call 911?”

“They don’t out here,” Henry said.

Lou knew first aid, and had helped with a blood drive, but this was new. Simone was gasping for breath.

Lou was overtaken by a strange urge. It didn’t seem right, but she couldn’t help doing it. It was her deepest desire in that moment.

She held Simone’s nose shut, and cupped her hand over her mouth. Lou’s face was full of shock, as if she hadn’t expected her hand to do that.

The group was dead silent. Lou always knew what to do. How could this be wrong?

Simone’s body started to convulse as she struggled to get in any air.

Again without thinking, Lou flipped Simone’s body over as best she could, some people rushed in to help her, and she positioned Simone’s face over the edge of the couch.

All of a sudden, Simone threw up.

After that night, Lou had known something was different about her. She’d told her grandmother, who was overjoyed.

But her mother felt differently.

“It’s not safe here,” she’d told Lou.

So she went to one place it would be: St. Margaret’s.

Lou wiped her brow and looked around. She’d been moving around boxes in the store room, making room for the new shipment that was being delivered.

As she took off her gloves, she heard a voice.

“Hey sister!”

It was the man from last night. He was pushing a hand truck stacked with boxes.

“Oh,” she said. “It’s you! How’s your friend?”

He looked down. “Oh, she’s fine, yeah.”

They stood there awkwardly.

“Did you want to… ?” Lou said, moving sideways and gesturing at a clear spot for the boxes.

“Oh! Yeah, sure,” he said, starting to unload them.

Lou moved towards the doorway, but something kept her from leaving.

“So you… Work at the grocery store?”

“Yup,” he said, stacking a box.

“The same one where our anonymous donor gets all these supplies?”

He wheeled the now empty hand truck around so they were facing each other.

“Yeah.”

“And you were outside with a sick young woman last night, looking for missing people?”

He looked sheepish. “Uh, yeah.”

She squinted her eyes and then smiled. She flew at him and hugged him.

“Thank you,” she said when she pulled away.

Hector didn’t know why, but he couldn’t help but smile.

—

She’d left the order written out on the desk of the manager. No way he’d miss it, no way she’d have to talk to Hector until she was ready.

Things were getting… complicated.

A few years ago, she’d thought about traveling. Never staying in one place at a time.

She’d stayed because… She didn’t know. Or she knew, and didn’t want to think about it.

She was sitting on the beat up mattress in her warehouse, papers and notes strewn around her. She was trying to trace the pieces of everything happening. There were missing people, and there was the message scratched into her warehouse door.

She’d been underground and unknown for years. That she should get involved in so many things all that the same time was not a coincidence.

The demon was hungry. And bored. She generally understood its personality, which seemed ridiculous but felt true.

It did not like thinking. Or sitting. Or sitting and thinking.

It didn’t need to think. It was superior to all beings. Waiting in any capacity was for mere mortals.

And yet, you need me to survive, she thought.

It huffed.

The missing people piece she put aside for now. She’d poured over the clippings and police notes, and had found they were not connected, at least not in an obvious way.

Someone trying to contact her, though, that was new. The method and the message both were telling: if they’d wanted to talk to her right away, they’d have knocked or confronted her anywhere between here and any of the other places she’d been.

They were playing with her. Testing her even.

The demon growled, annoyed. A human was here: Hector.

“Hello?” He called out on the other side of the door.

The door flew up, startling Hector.

Ramie stood underneath it. “I told you I’d contact you when I was ready.”

Ramie could tell his pulse was quickening, but he didn’t back down.

“Yeah, but it’s been like, days,” he said.

They stared at each other for a moment until Hector threw his hands up.

“Look, this is crazy! We’re in this together, you know? You don’t have to be all… All…”

She and the demon huffed.

“Like this,” Hector said, waving his hands chaotically at her.

She looked down at her crossed arms, her legs planted on the floor.

She looked up and squinted her eyes at him.

“What’s even your name?” He asked.

“What?” She said, startled.

“What. Is your. Name.”

She frowned.

“We are not ‘in this together’. We are not a team.”

Now Hector crossed his arms. “Uh, yeah, we are. You’re the superhero, and I’m the human sidekick, slash comic relief.”

“I’m not a superhero,” Ramie said, uncrossing her arms to reach up and pull down the door.

“Ok, then why are you doing this?” Hector said, trying to keep eye contact with her as the door rolled down.

“Because I feel sorry for you.”

The door slammed shut. Hector banged on it and shouted for her to talk to him, but Ramie was already heading out the back door.

—

Walking through the streets, letting the demon feed, she thought more about the message.

A few things were clear:

– whoever or whatever left the message was not human, and

– they believed themselves to be stronger than her.

She’d never been curious about her condition. She knew what she was, and she knew what had happened to her. The scars across her body, the burned shapes of crosses and lines, never let her forget.

But now it was clear there was more to it.

Someone else in the city was like her, and they wanted to be friends.

Or enemies.

—

Hector kicked at the metal door.

“Goddamnit!”

He’d known she was avoiding him when his boss asked him to fill the shelter order.

Rubbing his face, he sighed. He started to walk away from the warehouse when he felt… Someone. He turned back to the warehouse door.

“Hello? You gonna let me in now?”

No answer.

Looking up and down the alley, up towards roofs, down the sidewalks, he looked for a person.

“You invisible now or something?” He called as he spun in place.

Slowly, a realization came over him: this – whatever she is… She may not be the only one.

He walked towards the end of the street, breaking into a run.

—

Cassidy O’Neal loved the library at night. During the day it was great: bustling, active, and full of people who truly loved books.

But at night, it had a different kind of magic. Empty of everyone, almost completely without sound, it was just rows and rows of books.

Her coworker Anita said it gave her the creeps, and rarely stayed longer than she had to.

“You’re missing out!” Cassidy told her.

“I’m good,” Anita said emphatically. “You can stay here with the ghost of old John, I’m gonna go home and watch TV.”

Locking the door behind Anita, Cassidy walked through each room clicking off lights and checking to make sure everything looked neat and tidy for the next day.

She passed through the children’s reading room, with its stuffed animals lined up next to the tiny colorful chairs. Next, she moved back some chairs in fiction.

She gave a quick glance at reference –  that was Karen’s domain, so no doubt orderly as ever – and then moved to the computers across the hall.

But something caught her eye. A person?

“Karen, you still here?” She called out.

No answer.

“Hello?”

She heard a thump from somewhere in the stacks.

She smiled. “Anita, I know it’s you! Pretending to be the ghost of old John,” she said, walking towards where she’d heard the sound.

“If you don’t get home, you’re going to miss your–“

She turned down row 282 and screamed.

Books were flying from shelves silently, like birds in an sanctuary. Some were being went back to the shelves, and some were being stacked neatly on the floor in front of a dark figure.

Cassidy’s eyes rolled back in her head and she fainted.

—

He should have just gone home, tucked his little sister into bed and kissed his mother good night. But Hector found himself headed for St. Margaret’s.

He hesitated before knocking on the door. It was late, and he was disheveled from running and the long ride back uptown on the subway.

He knocked quickly and waited.

After a minute, he heard rustling on the they side of the door. A young boy opened it and stared up at him.

“Um, hey little man, is…,” he realized he didn’t know her name, and he wasn’t even sure if he should be asking for a specific nun this late at night.

“Are there… nuns here?”

“Oh, Daniel, thank you for getting th door!” An older nun with wearing glasses walked up to the door. “Why don’t you head back to the tv room?”

She watched the little boy go, and then turned towards Hector with a stern face. “How may I help you?”

“Yeah, I-I I’m looking for-“

The nun clapped her hand over her mouth. “Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry, you’re the young man from the grocery store!” She smiled and motioned for him to come in. “I’m Sister Rita.”

She looked at him over her glasses.

“Oh, um, I’m Hector.”

“Alright Hector, welcome, let’s head back to the kitchen, get you something to eat.”

He followed her into the kitchen.

The kitchen was a midsized industrial kitchen with lots of silver metal appliances and bulk foods. Across the walls and surfaces were touches of life, like children’s drawings, dried out palm leaves, and prayer cards. There were even some tokens from other religions, including Tibetan prayer flags and a card wishing the nuns a happy eid.

In the center, a few nuns were circled around some cookies and milk, laughing.

“We have a visitor,” Sister Rita told the group.

Lou looked over and perked up.

“Oh, it’s you! Again!” She ran over to him and took his arm, dragging him towards the group.

“Everyone, this is the nice man I told you about, the one who’s doing all the things for the community.”

They murmured and nodded in approval.

Hectors eyebrows shot up. “Oh, no, I’m not-“

“Shh,” Lou said with a smile. “You met sister Rita, and this is sister Abigail, and sister Denali.”

She turned to him with the biggest smile on her face. “And I’m sister Lou.”

He smiled back and then realized he might be smiling a little too long. He looked back at the group, a little surprised.

“Oh, um, I’m Hector.”

“Would you like a cookie?” Sister Denali said, offering him the plate.

“No thank you, sister, I actually had a problem I was hoping I could talk to sister Lou about.”

Lou looked concerned. “Is it about your friend?”

“It is, she’s-” he hesitated. What could he even say? And why would he even say? What could this nun do to help?

“Well, it’s not, it’s not a big deal. She’s just, you know, standoffish.”

One of the nuns chuckled. “Oh, he wants love advice.”

“What? No!” He said. “It’s not that. Its, she’s just… Depressed. And I don’t know how to help her.”

Sister Lou, her hands still clutching his arm, looked perplexed.

“We have a therapist who comes by every week. Do you want to bring her by then?”

“Uh, I don’t think she’d come, she’s pretty… Stubborn.”

“Don’t know anyone like that!” Sister Rita laughed, nudging sister Abigail.

“Girl, I know you aren’t talking about me,” she said, smiling.

“So how can we help?” Lou said, taking her hand off his arm and leaning towards him.

Little wisps of her dark hair were peeking out of her habit, framing her face perfectly.

Without thinking, Hector said, “You could come with me.”

Lou frowned.

“I mean, you could come talk to her!” He said, standing up straight and stepping back from the table.

“She really liked meeting you the other day, hasn’t stopped talking about you since. I thought you could come talk to her. To cheer her up.”

The room was completely silent. He looked around at the nuns faces.

“Ok!” Sister Lou said. “I’ll go get my coat!”

The other nuns looked at each other knowingly.

“Is it ok if she goes out this late?” He asked them.

“Sister Lou has a big heart,” sister Rita said, clearing the dishes. “We couldn’t stop her if we wanted to.”

“She’ll be good for your friend,” sister Denali said, patting his arm as she passed.

Lou popped her head back into the kitchen.

“Let’s go, slowpoke!”

Hector ran a hand over his face before following her.

—

Just in case Hector was still waiting out front, Ramie came in through the back door. She reached out to see if he was still there, but there was nothing.

She dropped the books next to her bed and sat down.

She reached her hand out to grab a book, but decided against it.

She’d been using her powers a lot lately, and it had gotten away from her that night with Hector, but since then, she’d done some really impressive stuff.

She’d started to think she had total control over her powers. Maybe not when she was emotional, but she could keep working on that.

Sitting up, she levitated the book up from the stack, and brought it over to her while flipping to the page she wanted to read.

She smiled just a little.

The demon purred. It was pleased.

She scowled again.

“Don’t get any ideas,” she told it.