Black Halo (Grace Series)

by S. L. Naeole

  I brushed my teeth and then ran my fingers through my hair, trying my best to tame it before stepping out to face the amused gazes of Lark and Graham, who hadn’t exactly changed positions, just moved their faces so they could see me.

  “Alright, let’s go,” I said as I shoved my sleeping clothes into the larger bag and then grabbing my backpack from the floor beside the bed.

  “Aren’t you going to eat breakfast?” Lark asked, surprised at my rush.

  “Did your mother make it?”

  When Lark nodded enthusiastically I frowned and shook my head. “No thanks. I’ll just grab an apple or something on the way out.”

  Graham followed me out of the room and down the stairs, his voice tinged with confusion and semi-offense. “Why aren’t you going to eat what Lark’s mom cooked for breakfast?”

  I stopped and turned to look at him. “Because she can’t cook—the woman can’t even make Jell-O, okay? I’m not about to eat something she cooked if she can’t even make something that requires no cooking.”

  I heard him choke, saw his eyes bulge, and knew—instinctively, down to the very tips of my toes—that I had just managed to monumentally swallow my foot whole as I turned around to face a smiling, yet visibly annoyed Ameila.

  “Uh-I-uh,” I stuttered as I tried to find the right words to say that would lessen the impact of my thoughtless statement, but I knew that there was no point when I saw her raise an eyebrow, curious and amused at the flustered state I was in.

  “Oh hell, I’m sorry but it’s the truth. I don’t think you can cook, which is saying a lot since I’m pretty certain you can do everything else perfectly.”

  I braced myself for the backlash that I knew was coming, even closed my eyes and cringed, but nothing came.

  Nothing except the beautiful, almost bell-like sound of Ameila’s laughter. “Oh Grace, it’s such a wonderful thing to have such honesty around me. You have to understand that until you entered our lives, the only thing I ever made was a glass of water, and even that I’m sure I did incorrectly. I take no offense to your opinion, dear. I welcome it, in fact.”

  “Thank…you?” I managed to say before she began to walk away. Suddenly I remembered something that had been weighing on my mind the past couple of days and I didn’t want to miss the opportunity that lay before me so I ran towards her and blocked her path. “Um, Ameila, could I talk to you? You know, ask you a few personal questions?”

  She looked at me, her eyes crinkled with amusement and smiled. “Of course, but not until after school, which I think you’re going to be late for if you don’t hurry.”

  Her tone was one that brooked no refusal, despite the motherly tone. I nodded and smiled, thankful that she had agreed to being questioned, and turned to face Graham, who still looked dumbstruck.

  “She doesn’t look old enough to be their mom,” he managed to say when I kicked him in his shin.

  “That’s it? That’s all you’ve got to say?” I laughed. “Come on, we’re going to be late.”

  “Lark looks like her. Don’t you think she looks like her? Do you think that she’ll age well? I think she’ll age well,” Graham continued to mumble behind me as we walked out the front door, Graham’s car waiting out front.

  “She doesn’t age at all, Graham, or didn’t you realize that when you learned she was five-hundred-years old?”

  I turned around to see if Lark was behind me and frowned when she wasn’t. “Where’d Lark go? She was right-”

  “I’m already in the car. Come on, you heard Mother; we’re going to be late,” her chorus-like voice called out from the backseat of the green Buick.

  Grinning, I opened the passenger-side door and climbed in. Graham looked miffed that Lark wouldn’t be sitting beside him until Lark leaned forward her arms wrapping around the seat to hold him. I heard the slight crunch of metal as it buckled underneath her strong arms, and couldn’t keep a giggle from escaping when Graham’s eyes once again bulged out.

  “Did you just hurt my car?”

  “No,” Lark replied, though the indentation her arms left in the shape of the seat was quite evident. “Just drive, okay?” She looked at me and motioned to the damage, a worried look on her face.

  I simply shook my head and smiled. I reached down to grab my backpack from between my knees and stopped.

  The flower that had been on my pillow was now pinned to my bag, a small folded note attached to it.

  I pulled the note from the pin and opened it up, the familiar elegant handwriting forming three simple words and a name that made my heart beat just a bit faster in my chest, reminding me that it was still there, still alive, despite all of the evidence to the contrary.

  I decided to let it continue to prove me wrong.

  ***

  Perhaps it was because my mind was elsewhere, or perhaps it was because it was yet another day without the fear of running into—or being run down by—Erica Hamilton in the halls, but the day passed by rather quickly, the final bell a welcomed relief. As he had the day before, Robert walked beside me after class, though he remained off to the side and slightly behind me. I realized he was doing this to give me the space that I needed, and I didn’t bother fighting the smile that formed on my lips.

  Graham met me outside and quickly, almost too quickly, I was back in the car, heading towards Lark and Robert’s house. Lark had opted to remain behind with Stacy, who had yet to be informed of what was happening. This bothered me, but as Lark had explained, she already had too much on her plate to be concerned about; adding another worry on top of everything she already had to face would just be cruel and selfish of all of us.

  The drive to the Bellegarde house during the day was a sight to see. The tall, white walls that surrounded the property gave way to ornate wrought iron gates that were flanked, ironically, by two large angel statues.

  “Isn’t that a little dangerous?” Graham asked as we passed them once the gates opened. “I mean, that’s like a Vampire living in a house that’s got coffins sitting in the driveway.”

  My laughter filled the car, the sound of it startling to the both of us. “Graham, no one knows that angels live here except other angels and the electus patronus.”

  “The what-us pa-who-us?”

  I looked at his perplexed expression and started once again into a fit of laughter. “The electus patronus, Graham; EPs. I don’t know much about them, really. I’ve met a few of them, one who actually dated Robert a long time ago, and they’re a very…interesting bunch. They’re all families who take care of the angels’ secret. I’m sure that when Lark finally introduces you to them, you’ll learn a lot more than I will.”

  As Graham parked the car at the front of the house, he leaned back into his seat, frustration rolling through his body. “Why, Grace? Why is it that you’re always kept in the dark about these things? I don’t get why Robert isn’t straight with you when you risk so much just by being with him.”

  Looking out the window, I felt a small sadness creep back into me, the laughter now long gone. “I don’t know either, Graham. But I intend to get some answers to my questions today, and it won’t be from Robert.”

  Graham nodded, his gaze locked on the blue front door of the Bellegarde home. “I hope you do, Grace. And I hope that you tell me everything that you’ve learned so that I don’t go into this blind myself.”

  I hugged him and exited the car, standing outside the front door for a long while after he left before finally gathering the courage to step forward.

  The door opened immediately, Robert standing on the opposite end waiting for me. I walked past him, entering the house as though for the first time, the bright afternoon sun filling it with warmth and light that hinted at the enlightenment that I would receive today, whether it be given freely or demanded by me.

  Ameila stood in the living room, her hands held out in welcome, and I walked towards her eagerly, the promise on her face a very welcome beginning indeed.

  “Grace, you’re here at last
—that Graham should learn to drive a bit faster,” she said as she pulled me to the large couch.

  “It’s not his fault,” I laughed, feeling at ease by her warm and friendly smile. “His car is older than he is.”

  She nodded, already knowing the story. “Well, if he continues to see Lark, he’ll need to figure out a faster means of transportation, won’t he?”

  My head bobbed up and down in agreement as I bit back another laugh. “He loves that car, though. We’ve made a lot of memories in that car.”

  “I do not doubt that. Now tell me, what is it that you want to know, Grace?”

  I moved to turn my head but Ameila placed her hand beneath my chin, forcing me to look at her instead. “Don’t worry about Robert—he’s not here—I sent him away so that he won’t make you feel all nervous with our girl talk. So tell me what’s on your mind, dear.”

  I stared at her and took several deep breaths, gathering up the courage to ask the questions that had piled up over the past few months.

  “Can I ask you anything?”

  She smiled and nodded. “Yes.”

  “And will you answer them?”

  “Yes, Grace, I will. I think it’s time that you finally received the answers you’ve been looking for.”

  I felt an intense amount of weight lift off my shoulders at her reply and I began to mentally sift through the dozens of questions in my mind, each one seeming to have a greater importance than the other the more I thought.

  “Grace, would it make it easier for you if I simply read your mind and answered the questions as they came?”

  I had forgotten that Ameila had chosen to block out the thoughts of humans around her; the dark scenes that played out in our minds were far too disturbing for her. Had she not, she feared that she’d lose her desire to continue to help my kind, and that went against the very nature of every angel’s call. It was a painful decision, but she did it for both herself and for others like me.

  “Sure,” I told her, my smile reassuring.

  She leaned in closer to me. “Such pretty brown eyes, Grace,” she said with a soft lilt, her accent thick and rolling. “You have so many worries, so many questions. Poor thing, your head must feel so full.”

  She brushed her hand down my hair, pushing it behind my ears, and lifted my face so that I was staring directly at her. “First question—is what Robert told you about my call true. Yes, Grace, it is. I use my ability to change form to help others make their peace with those they have lost, those they have wronged, and sometimes, just to help them ease an unjustified guilty conscience.”

  “So…you really can change into something other than…a dog?”

  As if to answer my question, Ameila’s face began to change, almost dissolve before me into an amorphous shape that bore a striking resemblance to melted ice cream. Before I could grow accustomed to the appearance of melted flesh, the shapeless blob began reforming into the familiar face that belonged to Stacy.

  Everything shifted around her, her body shrinking in height, her skin darkening slightly, her hair pulling up into her scalp so that the length was much shorter. The hands that held onto mine grew heated, almost too hot, and I stared in amazement as they became smaller, the perfectly manicured nails growing short and jagged.

  “Holy-”

  “Believe me now?”

  My jaw dropped open at the sound of Stacy’s voice. “I don’t think I really doubted you, but yeah, I do believe you.”

  Stacy’s smile grinned back at me before disappearing once more into a blob of flesh toned goo for what could have only been a fraction of a second before Ameila’s flawless face appeared.

  “Next question,” she said, Stacy’s voice now gone, replaced with the chorus of bells that made up her own. “You want to know if I’ve ever become someone in your life. I must answer this honestly, Grace, but I want you to know what it is that you’re asking because the truth might not be something that you will accept.”

  “I want the truth, Ameila, no matter how difficult it is to take,” I told her honestly. “I’m done with secrets.”

  “So be it. Yes, Grace, I’ve taken on the form of those in your life that hold a place of significance, the most recent one being the librarian shortly after she became too ill to work.”

  I nodded slowly, accepting her explanation with little hesitation. “You were the one who told me to read that poem, not Miss Maggie,” I said softly, my voice wavering slightly from the weight of the truth that I had suspected for a while, but never fully accepted until now.

  “Yes. I felt that I needed to keep your head and heart above water when it came to my son—understanding the call and being patient when it arrives is a very difficult thing to endure for an angel, much less a human. And I knew that the only way I could do this was to be someone you trusted, someone whose opinions you would accept. Miss Maggie was the perfect choice. Being her allowed me to watch over you without appearing to do so, and it gave me every opportunity to help you.”

  I took this in and allowed it to ferment within me, pleased to find that it didn’t leave me unsettled. “Who else? Was there anyone else?”

  “Not anyone of significance, really; a paramedic after you were hit by that car, a nurse who made sure a certain doctor was aware of your importance to this family, a neighbor who kept interest focused elsewhere, rather than on your home. I’ve tried to remain distant in my true form so that you wouldn’t be able to feel my presence when I was in another—I didn’t want you to feel betrayed, Grace. It’s a difficult emotion to accept, and even more difficult to forgive. I never want you to feel that from this family.”

  I gazed at her, mystified by her words. Did she not know what happened between Robert and me? Was she unaware of his betrayal?

  Before I was given a chance to ask her about it, she began to answer another question, one that I hadn’t given much thought to but obviously one she felt needed addressing.

  “The reason you were able to learn about my call was because you aren’t just my son’s girlfriend, or even his wing-bringer. You both are two halves of a whole, joined together by something that goes beyond angel and human.

  “He is as much a human through you as you are an angel through him; your minds are not separate; they are not individual, which allows you to know our secrets without the consequences that others of your kind would face. It’s why that first joining of thoughts caused you to black out—your mind was calling the thoughts home, welcoming them—his thoughts are yours, just as your thoughts are his.”

  My head jerked back in stunted confusion. “I don’t understand. I’m human; Robert’s an angel. How can his mind not be whole without mine when his is so much more…well, just more?”

  “How can the sun be the sun without the moon to compliment it in the sky? The moon is incapable of shining on its own because it is not a star, and the sun can never truly be appreciated without the beauty of the moon because only then can one look directly at its light and not be blinded. You, Grace, are the warm sun, while Robert is the cold moon, and just as they bring balance to the sky, you bring balance to each other.”

  As hard as I tried, it was difficult for me to not digest what she had said, her explanation sounding far too beautiful to describe the ugliness that had become what now lay between Robert and me. “Ameila,” I began, my lips turned down in a disturbed frown, “How much do you know about my relationship with Robert?”

  Her lips curved up with pleasure, her eyes sparkling with it. “I know that he loves you very much, and that he values your life far more than his own. Since the first moment he laid eyes on you, he’s changed into someone that I feel immensely proud of. These past few weeks, he’s sought the guidance of the Seraphim, which tells me that he’s preparing to take a major step. I have chosen to keep from searching his thoughts, though I’m certain he’d have prevented me anyway, but there are moments when I wonder what he has planned for the two of you.”

  She seemed so serene and happy; I couldn’t spo
il her idyllic notions with the truth, no matter how much it begged to be told. I simply smiled through gritted teeth and stared out of the large window behind her.

  “And so we have come to the crux of the matter, the question that stands apart from all others. I’m amazed that you didn’t ask Robert to explain this, but then again, even he is in disbelief of the truth. Poor Grace, to be so close to the answers and yet denied them time and time again.”

  Confused, I turned my gaze towards her, her silvery eyes soft and warm with genuine affection and concern. “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about the question of physical relations, Grace. You’ve been wondering why, though you love Robert, and know that he loves you, you have yet to consummate your relationship. Am I right?”

  I opened my mouth, but quickly shut it as I didn’t know what to answer, how to answer. The broaching of the subject had always been difficult with Robert, and I had never thought to ask Lark about it though I was fairly certain that she had far more extensive knowledge on the subject than he would, which had left Ameila. But the idea of asking their mother about what it meant to be…physical with one of her kind had always felt wrong. It would be akin to Robert asking my dad about what it meant to be intimate with another human—it was just uncomfortable and unimaginable, not to mention gross.

  But as I looked at Ameila, saw the sad sincerity in her face, I felt a strange sense of ease come over me. I took a deep breath and began to explain to her what it was that frustrated me so greatly.

  “I want to know why he always pushed me away, why when I tried to get closer he kept telling me he’s not ready, that he needs to learn to control himself first. There’ve been times when we’d start to lose ourselves in the moment, but then he just…stops. He said he was trying to protect me, but I know that’s not it. He wants more. I feel it in the way he holds me, the way he looks at me.

  “Why does he hold back? Does he doubt himself? Or is it just because it’s me? I mean, I know I’m not beautiful like the rest of your kind; you’re angels, for crying out loud! No one’s gonna look as beautiful as you do. But he always made it a point to tell me that I was beautiful, and I believed him; now I don’t know. I don’t know what to think.”