He Was Like Superman, But With Fangs

Heart Turned To Me, His Face Thought­ful. “yes­ter­day Morn­ing. Yes, That Means That Daphne Hadn’t Been Home For Two Days Be­fore That.” He Smiled At Me. “you Were Sup­posed To Be The Al­pha’s Eye Can­dy.” Adam Laughed. “what?” I Asked Him. “you Don’t Think I’d Be Good Eye Can­dy?” I Looked Down At My Over­alls And Grease-​stained Hands. I’d Torn An­oth­er Nail To The Quick. “hon­ey Is Eye Can­dy,” Said Ben Apolo­get­ical­ly. “you’re . . . Just You.” “mine,” Said Adam, Edg­ing Be­tween Heart And Me. “mine Is What She Is.

Even After All This Time, I Keep Forgetting That Heroes Can Be Found In Unlikely Places And Persons -- Like Mechanics Who Can Turn Into Coyotes.

Where Does A Werewolf Sleep? Anywhere He Wants To.

So In The Sweltering Heat Of A July Night, I Sang A Christmas Carol To A Room Full Of Fae, Who Had Been Driven Out Of Their Homelands By Christians And Their Cold-iron Swords.

It Wasn't Hard To Follow The Scent Of Blood To The Living Room Where The Fae Had Been Killed. It Had Been A Violent Death, Perfect For Creating Ghosts.