Black Halo (Grace Series)

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Black Halo (Grace Series) Page 40

by S. L. Naeole


  “Anyway, all of the noise must have alerted security or something because Mr. Kenner came in with Mrs. Mayhew and they pulled Erica off of Miss Deovolente who then attacked Mr. Branke. It was, like, the coolest chick fight ever. And Mr. Branke didn’t do anything! He didn’t even crack a smile that the two of them were fighting over him. Like I said, the guy’s a robot.”

  “Did Erica say anything?” I asked.

  “Grace, we have to go.” Robert tugged at my hand. “I’m sorry, Shawn. I wish we had more time to talk, but maybe you can tell us all about this on Monday.”

  “Um. Okay, yeah.”

  “I’m sorry about prom, Shawn,” I said to him as Robert dragged me away. “Believe it or not, I was actually looking forward to it. I hope you find a date in time, if there's a prom to go to!"

  “I’ll figure out something. You take care, okay?” he called out after me, waving before we turned a corner.

  “That was rude,” I chastised.

  “That was necessary.”

  “We could have learned more about what happened.”

  He tapped a finger against his temple and smiled. “I already did.”

  “Oh.”

  When we were outside, Robert turned to face me. “I need you to climb onto my back and hang on.”

  “Why? What about your wings?”

  “We’ll be able to travel faster this way. And don’t worry about my wings. I won’t be opening them while we’re flying.”

  “Why do we need to travel faster? Where are we going?”

  “Home.”

  “But why? We have to be with Stacy, we have to make sure that she’s okay.”

  “Grace, there are three Seraphim at my home right now, and more are gathering as I speak. Though they’ve most likely tried to keep this gathering as secretive as possible, there will be interest in where they have all disappeared to, and if Sam learns of this then Graham’s life will be in even more danger than it already is.

  “There’s nothing more that we can do for Stacy now other than wait. As much as I detest this choice that you have made for her, I know that Ambrose will take care of her. Lark will remain with her until the worst is over. You do not have to worry about her anymore.”

  “I didn't make this choice for Stacy, she made it for herself," I argued before sighing resignedly at what now lay ahead of her. "How long will it take?”

  Robert looped my arms around his neck and hoisted me atop his back, leaping into the evening sky before answering.

  She’s very ill, her body already willing to die. The infection that Ambrose will give her will spread through her body in less than twenty minutes, pumped through her blood by her heart. Once it has reached every cell in her body, it will begin to change them. That could take anywhere from a few hours to a few days, depending on the strength of the virus in Ambrose’s body.

  During this time, she will be in incredible pain, and her body will need to feed in order to maintain the energy necessary to allow for the transformation to complete. What concerns Ambrose is how her cancerous cells will react to his virus.

  “So, Stacy’s cancer could cause something to go wrong…?”

  His head moved once in a grim nod. But there’s little chance that it would be anything that Stacy wouldn’t live through. The virus is far too intelligent for that.

  “Intelligent? It’s a virus—how can a virus have intelligence?”

  Grace, you forget that this isn’t a human disease. Granted, it exists in former humans, but it didn’t start out that way. This is solely the creation of divinity gone wrong. The virus is like any other human one in that it can become resistant to factors that seek to weaken or destroy it, but it goes further than that. It adapts itself to the environment it exists in.

  Why do you think you have never seen Ambrose’s true form? Why have you never seen him behave like some flesh-starved animal? The virus, it learned, adapted itself to each new environment. The first erlkings and vampires that were created by Miki were filled with bloodlust, unable to control their urges because the virus attacked that part of the brain, leaving them unable to think, only capable of acting out of hunger.

  The great majority of early infections were caused by this during the transformation stage alone. Miki’s children were too anxious to feed to care about finishing the kill. All it took was the scent of warm blood, or the beating of a live heart and the hunt would begin again. These first children were...children in every act.

  But, with each subsequent victim that they in turn created, the weaknesses that had plagued the first and second generations soon depleted until you have what you see in Ambrose. Highly intelligent, able to exist among humankind without being detected, and able to control his urges so much so that he can exist simply by feeding raw meat and packaged blood.

  When my mother and Lem came into contact with Miki and her children, they had already gone through several generations. Ambrose is the result of several thousand years of adaptation due to the intelligence of this virus. It knows how to survive, Grace.

  I didn’t know what to say to that. The idea that something could go wrong was now stuck in my mind, itself a tumor that would grow until I knew for certain that Stacy was going to be alright.

  Grace, trust me. Please. It’ll be a cold day in Hell before I let that monster harm Stacy. She’s my friend, too, remember that. I have as much at stake here as you do. Besides, Ambrose knows the consequences if he fails to keep her safe.

  “Consequences? Did you threaten him?”

  I did more than that. I promised him that I’d personally see to it that his kind are wiped out if anything happened to Stacy.

  I heard my gasp, felt it as my chest rose up with the sudden intake of air. “Robert! How could you do that? He’s done nothing but help us! If anything goes wrong, it wouldn’t be because he wanted it to. It’d be an accident. You cannot punish him for that.”

  Grace, he shouldn’t exist to begin with. Don’t you see that? The fact that he’s allowed to live is something that he doesn’t take for granted, and neither do we. He’s made it clear that he has no interest in hurting any more humans, but there are others who do not share the same ideals, yet we’ve let them be because they’re not the monsters their predecessors were. But there is no law amongst my kind that states that we have to.

  I know that you don’t understand the viciousness that their kind is capable of because you’ve never truly seen their savageness. The erlking you met in the woods was nothing. He was mad at me, and took out his anger on you. Very rarely will an erlking act out of emotion.

  And now that you know Ambrose, you use him as the basis for your opinions. But trust me when I say that they and those like them deserve their reputation, Grace. Lem and my mother saw firsthand what they are capable of. He would like nothing better than to rid this entire world of every single one them, but we cannot continue to punish the offspring for their parents mistake, no matter how much we would want to.

  “I think that you’re being ridiculous.”

  And I think you’re being naïve.

  I huffed at that, but could say nothing as we landed in the side yard near the back door to Robert’s home. He didn’t stop moving as his feet touched the ground. With the swift, fluid movement that I had grown accustomed to, he pulled me around him, never stopping once, and carried me through the door as it opened completely on its own.

  I’m going to put you in my room and when I leave, I want you to stay there until I get back. Can you do this for me?

  He entered his bedroom with the stealth of a prowling cat, and carefully laid me on his bed before flitting about the room in a mad blur, rifling through his closet and trunk before stopping in front of me and placing his arms on either side of me, forcing me to recline onto my elbows as he leaned in.

  Well, can you?

  “I don’t-”

  He placed an insisted finger on my lips, quieting me before tapping his temple with that same finger.

  Sighing, I let my
eyelids fall halfway and stared at him. I don’t understand why I have to stay in here. It’s not like the people out there won’t know where I am. They can hear our thoughts, can’t they?

  He chuckled. They can, and they can’t. You let them hear what you want, which confuses and frustrates them. I know because I feel the same way. But, they can’t hear what you’re saying to me because all of my thoughts are in your head. Nowhere else.

  With wide eyes, I pushed forward. How is that possible?

  It has a lot to do with us being mentally tied to each other, as well as you being able to close out your mind to everyone else. You only allow the thoughts you want in, and nothing else. When I’m in your mind, my thoughts are there as well. No one else can hear us when we’re like this. You once referred to it as mental intimacy. I agree. It is rather ‘intimate’.

  The heat of a flush crept up on my face and I quickly fought to contain it as I tried to steer the conversation back on track. Why do I have to wait here?

  You know why, Grace. There are those who share the same beliefs as Sam. I’ve ignored my call to keep you safe, and I’ve interfered with the call of another angel to do so. It has been to my benefit that my mother and grandmère are both Seraphim, but that won’t be enough to keep the others from wanting to harm you themselves.

  A cold jolt of fear ran through me at his statement. They want to see me dead just as much as Sam does.

  He nodded once, the motion stiff and jerky, defiant. But I won’t let them hurt you, Grace, I swear it. You’ve made a decision that I can’t force you to reconsider, but I won’t let anyone else try to either. You have to be allowed to follow your own path.

  I raised myself up on my hands and kissed him, feeling everything inside of me vanish in a burst of flame and heat as he pressed in, my hands lifting to his hair, my fingers winding the soft, silky strands between them. I fell against the soft coverlet and felt his body’s weight on mine, felt his hands hold my head still as his mouth moved from mine to my jaw, kissing and nibbling the line as it traveled down to my chin and my throat.

  You’re my grace and my torment. The words in my mind repeated themselves over and over as I felt his roaming lips and hands against my shoulders, my arms, my face. I heard a soft sigh escape me when I felt his mouth press gently against the rapid beating of my heart, just beneath the fabric of my shirt. You are my life and my love.

  He lifted his head to mine and hovered above me, the liquid heat that came through his silver eyes holding my gaze, locking it in place as he graced me with an almost heart wrenching smile. I wanted to say something but my mind had gone blank. Instead, I was content to remain trapped in his arms, frozen in time for just this brief moment.

  And then he was gone.

  GIVING IN

  I waited for Robert for what felt like hours, pacing in his room and sifting through his CDs and books in between pressing my ear against the door in the hopes that I’d hear something, anything that would indicate what was going on just a few yards beyond it. Of course I heard nothing. They had the advantage of being able to argue in silence, leaving those without the ability to hear the thoughts of others to watch with avid curiosity at the comical silent picture the angels were forming.

  One thing I was certain of though was that they were definitely arguing about the fate of Graham, as well as me. Graham was innocent, as innocent as Katie had been, and his life was now in danger. Whatever the ties he had to me, his union with Lark should be reason enough for them to want to help rescue him.

  I didn’t doubt for a second that they’d spare Robert from what he thought were punishable crimes. He was too good, too much the epitome of what an angel was supposed to be to reprimand. He’d lived for fifteen-hundred years as the perfect son, the perfect angel. I didn’t see how it was possible to erase all of that within a matter of months.

  Of course, that was when it hit me that it had only been a few months since Robert had entered into my life. And yet he had changed it so profoundly that I knew no amount of living could have altered me as much as he had since that first moment I saw him. How could I have ever thought that my life was incomplete without the normalcy that I had once craved so badly? Normal in that sense did not include him, and I didn't want to know a life like that.

  Of course, how could I have foreseen all of this happening to begin with? If I looked at it rationally, it simply didn’t make any sense that someone like Robert would love me, but it didn’t erase the fact that he did. Love wasn’t meant to be rational. It was meant to be experienced and felt.

  How was I going to be able to leave him? It was a question I hadn’t dared ask myself because I knew that doing so would mean accepting that the time to do so was almost here. And though the signs were all pointing to the fact that the seconds were ticking down, I couldn’t see myself giving up on Robert, on us.

  “Oh God, you’ve gotten yourself into a fine mess, Grace Anne,” I groaned to myself as I walked over to the large windows that took up the majority of one wall in the room.

  I placed a hand upon the plane of glass in front of me and sighed. The cool, clear surface beneath my palm was poor comfort to the pain that seemed to resonate deep within me as I thought about what it was that I’d miss once I’d given myself up to Sam and he finally finished what he’d started all those years ago.

  I was already missing prom, though I had never intended to go prior to Shawn asking. Yet the idea of not wearing Stacy’s dress after all of her hard work felt disappointing in a way. I thumped my head against the glass. “Did I really just admit to being disappointed in not wearing a dress?”

  I laughed at my own foolishness. Of course it would be disappointing. I had been honest with Shawn when I told him that I had been looking forward to going to the prom with him. The idea of doing something as normal as attending my senior prom had given me something to look forward to, something that I hadn’t planned on.

  Then there were the other milestones that I’d miss. Graduating from high school; going to college. It didn’t matter now what it would cost to attend college—any college; I wasn’t going. Finals didn’t matter, nothing mattered.

  I turned my head and looked at the ring that sat on my right hand, the deep blue stone that rested on my ring finger looking up at me like an inquisitive eye. A smile formed on my lips when I remembered how shocked Janice had been when she had seen it, and how Dad hadn’t noticed it at all. I suppose it was a testament to just how well Dad knew me, knew what I would and wouldn’t accept.

  And yet, with all this time to think, I felt the aching pang of regret descend on me as I acknowledged with great surprise that I wanted him to make the same assumption as Janice. I wanted him to think that Robert wanted to marry me, to think that I was worth that level of commitment because deep down, I had some stupid, fairytale-like hope that Robert did, too.

  “Stupid is right,” I mumbled to myself before wiping away the stray tear that I hadn’t realized had escaped me. It didn’t matter what any of us wanted.

  With a resounding sigh, I pushed myself away from the window, knowing that moping wasn’t going to do me any good. I glanced at the wall above Robert’s bed and smiled. He’d added more photos since I had last been in here.

  I sat down and brought my feet up, turning to face the door and await Robert’s return when I realized that the closet door was open. I had never seen the inside of his closet before, and curiosity pulled me towards it like a magnet.

  It wasn’t a large closet, average in size, but the clothes that it held were far from average. Though I knew that Robert’s clothes were expensive, I’d never realized just how much. There were labels in there that would have cost dad’s entire annual salary to have purchased. The colors varied, though his staple black and gray were prominent among the occasional blues and greens, and the styles ranged from classic to modern and trendy. He favored a particular button down style and I immediately recognized the shirt that he’d worn when we first met.

  I pulled it off of
its hanger and brought it with me into Robert’s bathroom. I needed to take a shower badly. The smell of the hospital clung to me like smoke, the clinical odor almost unbearable on my skin now that I was away from the sterile environment and able to compare it to the clean and sweet smell of something other than bleach and disinfectant.

  Strangely enough, I had never been in Robert’s bathroom before, and was surprised by what I saw. Far from the masculine room I had expected, it was a very calm, soothing place, with tan and chocolate colored walls and ice blue glass tiles filling up an entire wall that I soon realized was one large shower, each end surrounded by large glass panels partially obscured by etchings of what looked like waterfalls.

  I quickly removed my clothes and walked into the large space, turning the square dials and sighing when the hot, steamy liquid flowed from the wall through several square-shaped nozzles that lined one end of the shower. Above me, a torrent of water began to fall, engulfing me and drenching my head rather quickly. I grabbed for one of the knobs and turned it, shrieking when the water turned a bitter cold before turning it back and selecting another one. This time, the water above me slowed down, lessening even more as I continued to turn the dial.

  “That’s better,” I grumbled before reaching for a bottle of shampoo that I spied resting on a glass shelf hidden against the far wall. I recognized the scent right away—it was the same shampoo that I used. I felt a tickling sensation begin to flicker inside of me and I smiled.

  Not wanting to put too much thought into his reasons for using such a feminine smelling shampoo, I began to wash my hair, rubbing the pink goo into my tangled mass of strands and building up the lather until I felt my hair was clean enough to rinse.

  Sensing that I was taking too long, I quickly finished my shower and turned off all of the showerheads. I stepped out of the large glass enclosure and reached for a tan towel, wrapping it around me and then grabbing another for my hair. I noticed that the clothes that I had left on the floor were now gone, and a warm rush of blood filled my cheeks as I took in the neatly folded pile of clean clothes that sat on the vanity that fronted the door. Had he been the one to bring my clothes once again, or was it Ameila?

 

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