Black Halo (Grace Series)

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Black Halo (Grace Series) Page 5

by S. L. Naeole


  Him.

  I turned around slowly, my arms crossing over my chest in a poor attempt at modesty knowing that whatever could be seen had been so already.

  “Please give me a good reason why you’re here, and why I shouldn’t scream.” I stared at him, embarrassment fighting the anger within me as I stared at a pair of liquid silver eyes.

  “I keep failing you, Grace. You’re always getting hurt when I’m not around, like someone knows that I’m not there to protect you. This is the beginning—it will only escalate until the end goal is reached, and I cannot allow that to happen,” Robert explained.

  I scowled at him. “You cannot allow that to happen? If you had allowed it to happen when it was supposed to, I wouldn’t be here right now, feeling the way that I do, having to hear you pretend to care about what happens to me.”

  “I know that I cannot convince you that what I did, I did because I love you. I know that you’re not going to believe anything I say because of how you feel right now. But I do know that you don’t believe that I don’t care about what happens to you. I love you, Grace. I love you and I should have been honest with you but I wasn’t and if not being with you is the price for that then I accept it, but I will not accept any harm coming to you because of it.”

  He began to unbutton his shirt and my eyes widened in surprise. “What are you doing?”

  He stared at me as he reached the last button and removed the shirt from his body. I turned away, not wanting to look. But, more than that, I turned away because I did.

  I felt the shirt press against my back and then grow…softer. I tried to turn but was soon surrounded by a thick, black cloud that held me immobile. The feeling of the mist against my bare skin was unlike anything I had ever felt before. The slow, silken curl of it as it slid against my shoulders and down my arms made it impossible to keep a whimper from leaving my lips.

  I was in agony; there was a building of something inside of me that needing something, I just didn’t know what. But the swirling of the dark mist on my skin was urging whatever that feeling was to a point that made me bite my lips to keep from allowing that whimper to turn into a moan. Soon, both too soon and not soon enough, it was gone, and Robert was standing in front of me, his fingers busily buttoning up the shirt that was now hanging on me like a slinky, cream colored tent.

  “As much as I would have loved to have had a different reason for doing that, this was the only way I could see to getting you dressed without causing you any significant pain. I would have preferred to heal you, but something tells me that you’d rather me not do that either.”

  I waited until he had reached the second to the last button before finally speaking. “I could have dressed myself, but thank you. And you’re right; I don’t want you to heal me. Not anymore. But…thank you.”

  The door opened behind me and I heard the gasp of shock before I saw the face of the nurse who entered with a pre-packaged sling and a bottle of pills on another small tray. “I-I-I” she stuttered as she took in Robert’s shirtless frame.

  I didn’t know why but I felt a slash of anger cut through me as I watched her eyes grow wide and her pupils dilate at the sight of Robert. She looked so pleased and I felt the unfamiliar need to scratch her eyes out. A soft chuckle behind me brought me back to my senses and I smiled at the woman whose eyes were almost painfully fixed onto Robert.

  I took the bottle of pills from the tray and grabbed the sling, tearing the package open with my teeth. Robert removed the triangular cloth from my hand and quickly fashioned a rather comfortable rest for my arm. “Thanks,” I mumbled before turning towards the door.

  “Can I leave now?” I asked the nurse who pointed to some papers on the tray without ever taking her eyes off of Robert.

  I grabbed them and looked them over, rapidly signing my name at the pre-designated tabs with the provided pen and then left them there. I walked out into the hallway and saw Graham sitting down on the floor, his head resting in his hands, his blonde hair jutting out from between his fingers like golden blades of grass.

  “Hey,” I told him.

  He looked up and bolted to his feet, his arms wrapping around me tightly. Too tightly.

  “Ouch. Ouch, Graham—OW!”

  It happened rather rapidly. Robert was beside me, one hand keeping me pressed to his back, the other holding Graham up against the wall, his hand clamped around Graham’s throat. “You-were-hurting-her,” he hissed.

  “I was hugging her,” Graham wheezed. “Let me go!”

  Robert knew that Graham was telling the truth, and I sighed with relief when I saw the tensed muscles in his arm begin to relax. Graham slid to the ground, coughing and sputtering as he did so. I rushed around Robert to comfort Graham, and turned accusing eyes towards Robert who looked unapologetic for his overreaction.

  “Is this how you plan on protecting me? By strangling my friends?” I growled. I didn’t wait for a reply, and instead pressed my hand against the darkening marks that were spreading on Graham’s neck. “Are you alright?” I whispered and exhaled when he nodded.

  “I’m sorry, Grace. I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he breathed as he began to rub the marks on his neck. “And what is he doing here? Did you guys make up?”

  I looked at Robert and then at Graham and shook my head. “No.”

  Graham took one look at the shirt that hung loosely on me and rolled his eyes. “Sure. That’s why he’s half naked and you’re wearing his shirt.”

  Before I could protest, he pushed himself up to a standing position and turned around, his head flicking to the side to warn me. I looked towards that direction and saw two police officers approaching with a very nervous looking Dr. Ambrose sandwiched between them.

  I groaned when I recognized them as the same officers who had come to the house to discuss Mr. Frey’s death. It didn’t escape them that something had just happened between the three of us and I tried my best to look calm. Graham began to rub his neck fiercely. And Robert moved in front of me, his hands balled into fists.

  The look on Ambrose’s face should have been accompanied by sweat, but it dawned on me that if he wasn’t alive, he wouldn’t be sweating either. He simply looked frantic, and I couldn’t tell if it was because he was flanked by two uniformed police officers or if it was because Death himself was standing in front of me.

  “Grace, these officers are here to take your statement,” he said nervously as his eyes flicked from mine to Robert’s. He briefly glanced at Graham, but I could tell that he viewed him as being of little to no consequence and I couldn’t help but feel a bit angry by that.

  I nodded stiffly, but I didn’t move. If they were going to ask me any questions, they would have to do it from behind Robert, who gave off a very low, rumbling noise which actually caused one of the officers to cross himself. I smirked.

  “Miss Shelley, could you tell us what happened exactly? We already have some information given to us by your friend Stacy, but we still need your version of the events before we file our report,” the one who didn’t look about ready to pee on himself said to me. “We’ll also need your statement, Mr. Hasselbeck.”

  Graham nodded but stayed off to the side of me, his posture stiff but wary. I sighed and began to explain to the officers what had happened, trying my best to keep the melodrama out of it and simply sticking with the facts. When I described the fall, the air around us turned frosty, Robert obviously not pleased with what Erica had done this time. I could hear the rumbling in him grow louder with each word, and I cast an apologetic glance towards Graham whose teeth were chattering.

  It was only after Graham had given his statement, and we had both read them over and signed them did Robert finally quiet down and straighten his posture. He waited until the officers had left before he approached Dr. Ambrose, who once again should have been perspiring out of nervousness and fear, and instead simply looked pale and…cold.

  A silent exchange went on between them and I itched to know what was being discussed, the
surreal and paradoxical scene taking place before me was too great a curiosity and wonder for me to simply turn around and ignore. Death, the being himself, was standing in the middle of a hospital hallway, speaking to a man who helped save lives, though he was dead himself.

  Dr. Ambrose nodded enthusiastically at something and then looked at me and smiled, a knowing smile that did nothing to reassure me. Instead, I worried that yet another player was being added to this game that didn’t need to be, and though it sounded ridiculous, I feared for his life.

  Graham nudged me and I looked up at him, wincing as I saw the hand-shaped bruising that wrapped around his neck. “What do you think Robert is saying to that doctor? They must know each other for him to be talking to him like that, eh?”

  I nodded and then shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t know what they’re talking about, but it most likely has something to do with me. He feels guilty that he wasn’t there to stop Erica from pushing me down the stairs.”

  Graham nodded in agreement. “Well, he’s supposed to care about you and yet he’s always away when you get hurt. What does he do anyway? Where does he go?”

  I looked at him and frowned. “You know you can’t know that, right?”

  He shook his head. “Lark and I haven’t exactly talked about…the rules. Not yet, anyway.”

  I shook my head at that. “She should have at least told you some of them. Like that, for example. You’re not allowed to know the call of another angel unless they tell you themselves.”

  He nodded, understanding somewhat. “But he’s Lark’s brother. Doesn’t that make me almost family?”

  I laughed at that. “I won’t get to know what Lark’s call is unless she tells me. You won’t either. It’s how these things are. It has nothing to do with family or who you know.”

  He looked at me with confusion. “But you know about their mom’s call—Lark told me that you knew, and that she didn’t tell you.”

  I opened my mouth to protest, but stopped.

  “Oh. My. God.”

  “What?” he said, stunned.

  “I just realized something,” I told him, and began to pull him with my good arm. “Come on. We have to get to the car and get home. There’s something I need to check on, something that I need to figure out first.”

  He allowed me to pull him halfway down the hallway before he asked about Robert. “Are you guys back together or what? Because if you are, I don’t think it’d be a good idea to just leave him here.”

  I looked behind me and saw that Robert was already gone, as was Dr. Ambrose. “I don’t think we have to worry about them, Graham. And no, we’re not back together. Stop asking that, will you?”

  He shrugged as he followed me to the elevator. “Just saying—you guys don’t act like you’re not together.”

  “It’s a shirt. He helped me with a shirt,” I mumbled as the doors opened and we climbed in.

  “Well, you remember that when you see me half naked and Lark wearing one of mine,” he mumbled back as the doors closed.

  FULLEST

  I had hoped to be able to have done some digging when I got home, but the presence of Graham, not to mention Stacy and Lark kept me from following through on the plans I had formed on the way home from the hospital. Lark chose to remain downstairs with Graham while Stacy and I went upstairs to discuss what it was that she had said to the police.

  “I basically told them that Erica went bat-shit-insane and pushed you down those stairs for no reason,” she explained as I lay down on my bed. “The kinda wussy police officer kept shaking his head when I told him how I held the psycho down while you were at the bottom of the stairs. I don’t think he truly understands just what kind of person Erica is. I hope he got to see your injuries—maybe that’ll scare him a little.”

  I shook my head and sighed. “All he saw was my sling. I wasn’t about to lift my shirt up and show him the bandages wrapped around my ribs. Besides, he can take a look at the x-rays himself if he wants to.”

  Stacy nodded and then tugged on the hem of the shirt. “So, where’d you get the new duds?”

  I looked down and then groaned. “I don’t really have to explain this to you, too, do I?”

  She grinned and nodded in earnest, her mind already spinning with the numerous possibilities, none of which were correct.

  “Like I told Graham, Robert gave it to me because I couldn’t put my other shirt on. It was easy taking off the shirt when I couldn’t feel a thing with my arm hanging all limp and useless, but afterward it’s a completely different story.”

  Stacy huffed at my explanation. “You could have let him heal you, you know, then there wouldn’t be any need for him to go walking around half-naked in the hospital.”

  I gasped and threw a pillow at her. “You already knew! You and Lark were spying, you little rats!”

  She laughed and dodged the pillow skillfully. “Lark wanted to know what was going on, and so did I, so of course we spied! But only after Robert nearly strangled Graham—remind me to thank him for that visual, it was totally amusing although I think Lark’s not too happy with him right now—and we didn’t listen to any of your private thoughts or anything.”

  I groaned and pulled the remaining pillow out from beneath my head and used it to cover my face. “I can’t believe that of all the angels in the world, you had to become best friends with the one who can read minds miles away.”

  “Oh stop complaining. If it weren’t for Lark’s ability to do that, Robert wouldn’t have shown up at the hospital and you would probably still be there trying to figure out how to put your t-shirt on.”

  I grunted at her reasoning and shook my head beneath the pillow. “I would have worn the hospital gown home.”

  She laughed at my response and removed the pillow from my face. “No you wouldn’t and you know it. Admit it; you’re grateful that he showed up.”

  I shook my head and reached for the pillow, pulling it out of her hands and covering my head with it once more.

  “You know, I think you should give Robert another chance.”

  I pushed the pillow off my face and stared at her. “What?”

  She fidgeted with her fingers as she stared out of the window, unwilling and unable to look me in the eyes as she began to plead Robert’s case.

  “He loves you, Grace. And you love him. It’d take a blind man to not see that, and Lark’s pretty blind and even she can see that. You guys wouldn’t get so angry with each other if you didn’t.”

  “You and Graham fight a lot yourselves, but I don’t see the two of you spouting out declarations of love,” I scoffed.

  “That’s different. Graham and I like each other as friends. We never looked at each other and knew instantly that we were meant to be together—that’s reserved for love, and that’s what you have with Robert. Come on, he knew he loved you the moment he saw you. What girl ever gets to have that in her life, huh?”

  I groaned and pulled the pillow back over my eyes, but Stacy yanked it out of my hand. “Robert made a really big mistake, Grace. He knows he did, and he admitted to it. That’s another thing you won’t find in most guys—someone who’ll admit he was wrong. No, not just wrong; really, really, stupidly, mega wrong. He’d shout it from the rooftops if he had to—you know that! And he didn’t do this because he was trying to hurt you either, you know. He did it because he wanted to keep you safe.”

  I tried to sit up but the bandage around my ribs, coupled with the throbbing on my side allowed me only to roll over slightly, just enough to face her. “Safe from what? What more danger could I possibly have been in had I known, Stacy? You tell me that! Sam wanted to kill me. End of story. It didn’t matter whether or not I knew that he had killed my mother because he was gunning for me.

  “Robert let me dance with him, let me dance with the angel who murdered my mother, did you know that? No? I guess Lark left that little part out when she told you about what happened, didn’t she?”

  Stacy shook her head and frowned at
my outburst. “He didn’t murder your mother, Grace. He was doing his job. Lark hates this Sam guy and even she says she understands what he was doing. Why can’t you?”

  “Because it was my mom. He took her from me all because her name was on some stupid invisible list. You don’t know what that’s like, Stacy; you have no idea what it’s like to grow up without a mom around and then find out that the person you love the most in this world was best friends with the guy who took her away from you, and knew it,” I cried.

  She gave me a look that offered no sympathy as she launched into a rant of her own. “You don’t get it, do you? Everyone’s mom is on that list, Grace. They just don’t all show up at the same time. And you’re right; I don’t know what it’s like to grow up without a mom. But you know what? My mother is going to find out soon enough what it’s going to be like to grow old without a daughter.

  “Lark told me that by saving your life, Robert’s put his own in danger, and you don’t seem to appreciate that. He sacrificed his best friend for you, Grace—he did it, not Sam, and all you can think about is Robert not telling you something that wouldn’t change the past anyway. You think that what Robert did was so awful, but you don’t realize that at least you have someone who can keep you from dying, keep you from ever having to put your dad through the pain that my parents will experience soon.”

  She stood up and stormed out of the room, not even bothering to close the door as she left. I looked at the empty doorway and felt ashamed. It was easy to forget that Stacy wasn’t as healthy as she looked, and that her time left here was down to mere months rather than the decades that she should have had. I pushed myself to a sitting position and tried to go after her, but by the time I reached the bottom step I could hear her car pulling out of the driveway.

  Graham was standing by the front door, his head leaning against the frame as he watched her leave. I realized Lark was nowhere in the living room and knew that she must have left with Stacy. Seeing Graham’s lonely figure in the doorway increased my feeling of guilt.

 

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