"Then you'll help me without telling them who I am?"

"I will," she said.

"Good, because Grandma and I need your help." "What can I do?"

I glanced at Grandma. She seemed to be resting as peacefully as she had been ever since I sat down next to her. I'd heard no more bird wings, and felt no premonitions of evil. And yet I was reluctant to leave her alone, even if it was for just a few minutes.

"Zoey?"

I looked into the wise, kind eyes of this amazing nun and told her the utter truth. "I need to talk to you, and I don't want to do it in here, where we could be interrupted or overheard, but I'm scared to leave Grandma alone and unprotected."

She gazed back at me calmly, not at all perturbed by my weirdness. Then she reached into one of the front pockets of her voluminous black habit and drew out a small but beautifully detailed statue of the Virgin Mary.

"Would it ease your mind if I left Our Lady here with your grandmother while you and I speak?"

I nodded. "I think it would, Sister," I said, not trying to analyze why I should be so reassured by an icon of the mother of Christianity that a nun had brought with her. I was just grateful my gut was saying that I could trust this nun and the "magic" she carried.

Sister Mary Angela put the little statue of Mary on Grandma's bedside table. Then she bowed her head and clasped her hands. I could see her lips moving, but her words were so soft that I could not hear them. The nun crossed herself, kissed her fingers, and touched the statue lightly, and then she and I left Grandma's room.

"Is it still daylight outside?" I asked.

She looked at me with surprise. "It hasn't been daylight for hours, Zoey. It's after ten o'clock at night."

I rubbed at my face. I was utterly exhausted. "Do you mind if we walk outside for just a little while? I have to tell you a lot of hard stuff, and it'll be easier if I can feel the night air surrounding me."

"It's a lovely, cool night. I'd be happy to walk in it with you."

We wound our way out of the maze of St. John's and finally exited on its west side, facing Utica Street and the beautiful fountain that cascaded across the street from the hospital at the corner of Twenty-first and Utica.

"Wanta walk over by the fountain?" I asked.

"Lead the way, Zoey," Sister Mary Angela said with a smile.

We didn't talk while we walked. I looked all around us, watching for twisted bird images hiding in shadows, listening for the mocking sound that passed too easily for simple ravens. But there was nothing. The only thing I sensed in the night around us was waiting. And I didn't know if that was a good or bad sign.

There was a handy bench not far from the fountain. It faced the white marble statue of Mary surrounded by lambs and shepherd boys that decorated the southwest corner of the hospital. There was also a really pretty statue of Mary in full color, wearing her famous blue shawl, right inside the door to the ER. Strange how I'd never noticed how many statues there were of Mary around here before now.

We'd been sitting on the bench for a little while, just resting in the cool silence of the night, when I drew a deep breath and turned on the bench so that I could face Sister Mary Angela. "Sister, do you believe in demons?" I decided to go right for the jugular. There was just no point in messing around. Plus, I really didn't have the time or patience for it.

She raised her gray brows. "Demons? Well, yes, I do. Demons and the Catholic church have a long and turbulent history."

Then she just looked steadily at me, waiting like it was my turn. This is one of the things I liked best about Sister Mary Angela. She wasn't one of those adults who felt like it was their job to finish a sentence for you. She also wasn't one of those adults who couldn't stand to be quiet and wait while a kid got her thoughts in order.

"Have you ever known any personally?"

"Not any real ones, no. I've had some close calls, but all of them turned out to be either very sick people or very dishonest people."

"How about angels?"

"Do I believe in them or do I know any?"

"Both," I said.

"Yes and no, in that order. Although I'd much rather meet an angel than a demon, should I get the choice."

"Don't be so sure."

"Zoey?"

"Does the word Nephilim sound familiar to you?"

"Yes, they're referenced in the Old Testament. Some theologians surmise that Goliath was either a nephilium, or the offspring of one."