Nineteen
CHORD
The return journey to Echo from the funeral was as silent as the initial cab ride to St Albans. Darkness coated London in shadows, which made it seem more like home than a foreign country.
But when they made it to the heart of London, making their way along the River Thames with Big Ben in the distance, Chord realized how far away from home he truly was. And he could see now why Sev had taken such offense to his previous, less-than-romantic words about this city. At night, the atmosphere acquired a warm, ethereal glow, the light kissing the moisture in the air like a million little fireflies. Or, perhaps, fairies. Angels were real, after all. Why not fairies?
But, as Chord looked over at Sev’s face, illuminated by the gentle radiance of the city, all romantic thoughts of fairies vanished. For the first time since they’d met, Sev looked truly lost. He’d always seemed so sure of himself, of his values, his knowledge. That was one of the things Chord had found so attractive about him. But now, his face was drawn, his eyes stared unfocused out the window, and his brows turned up in sorrow. He looked like a puppy whose family had just left him at the pound and drove away.
Chord wanted to reach out and grab his hand, squeeze reassurance into him somehow. But Chord was selfish because he wanted to avoid rejection more than he wanted to make Sev feel less lonely or lost. So, like the coward he was, he left the cab, letting Sev pay, and walked back to Echo without waiting for him. He wanted to say he’d been a comfort to Sev by just being there for him, but he couldn’t even say that with certainty. Honestly, he’d felt more like an unwelcome nuisance than anything. Aurora had been wrong. Sev hadn’t needed—or wanted—him there at all.
The other Halos were hanging out on the patio, wrapped in blankets, sipping coffee or cocoa or some other hot, steaming beverage. They were laughing and talking and carrying on like any other twenty-somethings would on vacation in London. Even Aurora. Chord felt a pang because part of him wanted to join them, but a larger part of him didn’t want to be around anyone at all.
So, without announcing his arrival, he traveled to his room and slid the door shut behind him, immediately tugging the skinny tie threatening to suffocate him over his head. Though, removing it didn’t seem to ease his breathing.
He sat slouched, still dressed in his suit, on his bed, looking out the porthole window. Angels weren’t supposed to have these kinds of feelings, were they? Weren’t they meant to be happy and joyful and grateful and shit? Granted, he wasn’t a full-blown angel…but still. He wondered where the angel who impregnated his mother was in all of this. Did he even consider himself to be his father? Or had he only been fulfilling his duty to the Light?
A gentle knock sounded on the door, interrupting his tormenting thoughts. Aurora probably saw me come in and wants to check on me. How uncharacteristically considerate of her.
“Come in, Aurora,” Chord said grudgingly. “But you can turn right back around if you didn’t bring me coffee or something sweet.” The door opened and closed, but Aurora didn’t say anything. Chord sighed. “Listen, I don’t really want to talk about—”
He turned to see not Aurora but Sev standing slightly hunched over before the door. It was as if his chest had become too heavy for him to hold upright. Their eyes connected, Sev’s dark pupils nearly covering his colorless irises in the dim light of the room. Chord stood, turning to face him. “Are you—”
His words were quickly cut off by Sev’s mouth pressing against his.
Hungrily. Desperately.
“Sev—”
Then Sev pressed his hand against Chord’s groin, silencing all thoughts or comprehensible words as he gave into him.
Garments fell to the floor and time seemed to suspend as Sev pushed Chord to the bed, his mouth kissing trails of passionate fire across his skin until their bodies connected. It was the most intense and explosive sex they’d ever had, both trembling and convulsing as they came together before collapsing onto the bed.
But then Sev didn’t stop trembling. In fact, the shaking grew more violent, followed by dry, hollow sobs. Chord pressed himself up against Sev’s back, wrapping his arms around the resolute man who’d finally let himself break.
Twenty
LUNA
The day after Sev’s parents’ funeral felt even slower than it already was, seeing as how real time almost halted when Halos were on salt water. Luna didn't get how it worked. It wasn't something their human minds could comprehend.
Not wanting to make time pass more quickly on land, the seven of them remained on Echo, watching and waiting for the other choirs of Halos to make their presence known. Awkward tension consumed their usual easy conversation. Something must have happened between Chord and Sev at the funeral or afterward because they were keeping a wide birth from each other.
Then there were Brielle and Logan, standing beside the railing, looking out at the London skyline as they spoke in hushed voices. Well, Logan wasn’t emitting any awkwardness because she could be oblivious to that sort of thing sometimes. But Brielle, on the other hand, kept shooting Logan puzzling looks. Luna couldn’t quite make out the feelings behind them. Frustration? Confusion? Maybe even longing? Surely not. Brielle wasn’t gay.
Of course, then there was the strange energy between Gray, Aurora, and herself. Each of them acting as though nothing was amiss, even though it clearly was. Gray and Luna had shared a lovely, Aurora-free afternoon the day before—walking the streets of London, eating at a cute little café, people watching, and hand holding. But the moment they returned to Echo, and Luna caught the slightest of glances exchanged between Gray and Aurora, all her confident feelings diffused like paint in water.
And they still hadn’t kissed. Like really kissed. The kind of kiss that takes your breath away and makes your stomach simultaneously twist into knots and fly away. She wondered what Gray was waiting for. Then her dark thoughts took over once again as a name landed like a bitter pill on her tongue.
Aurora. It must be because of her.
Tilting her head ever so slightly, Luna glanced over at the tormenting blonde, who was being relatively social for a change, playing a card game on the deck with a preoccupied Chord. Trying not to make it too obvious she was looking at Gray’s Stellar, Luna only surveyed her for a moment. Aurora hadn’t bothered to change out of her plaid pajama pants and dark gray sweatshirt. Her golden hair was pulled back into a low messy bun with tendrils of curls framing her face. She wore no makeup, yet she still looked all glowy and fresh-faced, something Luna had never been able to accomplish even with makeup.
Luna caught a glimpse of herself in the reflection of the window glass. She sat snuggled up next to Gray, who was leaning back against the cushioned deck chair, closing his eyes, his arm curled loosely around her. He must have been dreaming because the muscles in his jaw kept clenching and unclenching. The shadow of stubble on his face hinted that he’d skipped shaving that morning. Usually, he was clean-shaven. She almost preferred this scruffy look, though. It made him look older.
He was so beautiful. It was almost painful not to reach out and touch him, caress his face in her hand, run her fingers through his dark brown, nearly black curls he hadn’t bothered to tame that morning. She’d only ever dated guys with board-straight hair. Gray’s curls were subtle, soft. Not tightly kinked or styled into a huge afro. They were adorable.
Luna, on the other hand, was ordinary. The bruise-like shadows beneath her eyes made her look endlessly tired, and her ash-blonde hair hung like limp curtains past her shoulders. Deep down, she knew the jealousy she felt towards Aurora was more than just because she was Gray’s Stellar—though that had a lot to do with it. The real reason was that she was exactly what Luna had always wished she could be. Strong. Independent. Glowing from the inside out.
Suddenly, an exaggerated sigh and a loud curse snapped everyone out of their lethargic states.
“Who cares if time speeds up for a little bit?” Chord complained. “We’ve been on this boat foreve
r. All. Damned. Day. I say we get off of here and do something. Anything. Like, just go to a pub and have a pint and some fucking Irish stew or something.”
Aurora chuckled. “Irish stew in an English pub?”
Chord waved a dismissive hand. “What-the-fuck-ever. Just something. We’re half-angels for the Light’s sake. Powers. Warriors. Badass demon fighting machines. Not lame, sitting ducks playing card games.” He tossed his deck on the table, cards scattering haphazardly across the slick surface.
Sev spoke up then. “There’s a pub I used to visit after particularly long days at work, not far from here, actually.”
Chord glanced over at Sev for a split second before nodding curtly. “Well. Let’s go there then.”
So everyone got dressed—wearing their Halo gear beneath their long, thick coats, just to be safe—and left Echo, traveling the short distance down the Queen’s Walk from the small boat to the pub.
Logan fell into step beside Luna. “How are you and your boy-toy doing?” She nodded her head towards Gray, who was talking to Sev about dinosaurs or something.
Luna shrugged, not wanting to admit to her twin about her continuing insecurities. “We’re fine.” Attempting to move the subject away from her, Luna lowered her voice as she slowed her walk, so the others moved out of earshot, “And what about you?”
Logan raised an eyebrow. “What about me?”
“You and Brielle…?”
Logan threw her head back in a laugh. “Are you serious?”
“Well? You’ve been spending a ton of time together and—”
“Brielle is as straight as they come,” Logan interrupted. “Lesbians are allowed to have friends who are girls and not sleep with them, you know.”
“I know that, Lo.” Luna rolled her eyes at her sister. “I’ve just noticed some looks she’s given you and stuff. I don’t know. They seem more than just friendly if you know what I mean.”
Logan looked from Luna to Brielle, who was walking beside Aurora and Chord without speaking. Her arms were crossed over her chest, whether from the cold or insecurity, it wasn’t clear. Logan brushed her black hair back, revealing one of the thick streaks of blue. “Well, I appreciate the compliment that you think I’m some super-lesbian who can change the most hetero of girls gay, but trust me, Brielle’s straighter than a hard stick of spaghetti. I’m just sort of…opening her eyes to the world, I guess.”
Luna’s gaze moved ahead, and Logan looked sideways out at the River Thames, missing the glance Brielle threw over her shoulder at them. When she saw Luna looking her way, the brunette blushed and turned quickly around.
Sev led the others into a corner pub decked in candy-apple-red wood and baskets of white flowers hanging like Christmas decorations around the perimeter of the building. Above the door, large gold painted letters read Dove & Anchor Tavern.
“I feel like that’s not a coincidence,” Luna heard Chord mutter to Aurora as they entered the dimly lit pub.
“There’s no such thing as coincidence for Halos,” Aurora returned wearily. “Gray and I figured that out the day we boarded Etheria.”
Could you just keep his name out of your mouth for one second, please? Luna thought venomously, her teeth clenching. Luckily Halos couldn’t read minds.
The seven of them settled into a corner booth—Aurora, Chord, and Logan slid around to the back of the shadowy part of the cushioned bench. This was fitting, seeing as how Luna thought of them as the edgiest of the Halos. All oozing confidence and self-assurance and strength, though clearly hiding the dark secrets of their pasts, which made them that way.
Brielle climbed into the booth beside Logan, and Sev settled on the outside of the cushioned bench. Gray moved to sit beside Aurora, but Luna quickly slid across the seat beside the golden girl she both idolized and demonized, just so the two Stellars could remain separated. The only one who seemed to notice what she’d done was, of course, Logan, who shot her sister a slightly amused glance before turning to Brielle to crack a joke about something on the menu.
“Oh my goodness,” Brielle said as she glanced down at the plastic-coated food list. “What is blood pudding? Please tell me it doesn’t really have blood in it.”
Sev nodded absently, scanning the menu himself. “It does.”
Brielle turned slightly green and muttered, “I think I’ll just have a salad.”
A sullen-looking waitress with pink hair approached the table, taking their orders in a monotonous voice. Perhaps it was obvious most of them were Americans, and she wasn’t a fan.
Luna got the fish and chips, figuring she might as well order a traditional British dish the first—and likely only—time being in a traditional British pub in London. Gray, Chord, Logan, and Sev all ordered a pint of some sort of beer, and Aurora asked for a Bloody Mary. Luna didn’t usually drink because she didn’t like to feel out of control, but when even Brielle ordered a glass of wine, she almost felt obligated to get something to drink, so as not to be the only wet blanket.
“I’ll, uh, I’ll just have a vodka and Coke,” Luna said to the bored-looking waitress. She’d heard that vodka was the most easily disguised alcohol. And she didn’t want to taste one bit of that burning stuff.
The server nodded and scribbled something on her little tablet before turning away to put their orders in.
“Why did you order that?” Logan said from across the table.
Luna shrugged self-consciously. “I felt like a drink.”
“But…you never drink.”
“Sometimes I do.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Yes, I do, Logan,” Luna said more firmly, reminding herself of an immature child. The others looked taken aback at the fire in her usually calm and quiet voice. “Maybe you’d know that if you hadn’t been glued to Erica’s hip for over a year.”
Logan’s eyes narrowed, and she pursed her lips but didn’t retort. Angrily, Luna picked up a pencil from the middle of the table and began sketching random designs on the watered down cardboard square coaster decorated with an advertisement for an English beer. When her drink arrived, she sucked it down quickly both to prove a point and to have something to do. Whoever said you couldn’t taste vodka in soda had lied. Her throat burned as she drained the alcohol.
Aurora, who had been talking to Chord about how gross dark beer was, turned to look at the cardboard coaster Luna had discarded after receiving her drink.
“That’s actually a good drawing,” Aurora noted, pointing to the swirling designs that had turned into an abstract sketch of a human face. “Have you ever taken an art class?”
“Uh…no,” Luna said, feeling slightly queasy. “Well, kind of. I was in art in high school, but that doesn’t really count.”
“That counts.” Aurora shrugged coolly. “My art teacher in high school was awesome. I learned more from her than I did any of my college professors.”
“Did you major in art?” Luna found herself asking, not sure why she was continuing this dialogue with the girl she now loathed above all else.
“She majored in everything,” Gray said with a laugh, reminding Luna precisely why she didn’t want to be talking to Aurora Coel…or sitting next to her…or in her presence ever.
Aurora shot Gray a quick look before turning her eyes back to Luna. “I majored in General Studies. Couldn’t make up my mind.”
Gray snorted at Aurora then, effectively making Luna’s blood boil. She was officially done talking to her boyfriend’s soul mate now, so all she said was “Mmm,” keeping her eyes trained on a water ring on the wood grain.
Aurora seemed to sense Luna’s disinterest and turned back to Chord to talk about how starving they both were. Gray reached over and clasped Luna’s right hand, which had been clutching her left one with white knuckles. The feel of his touch relaxed her, and she moved slightly away from Aurora, so her shoulder was pressed reassuringly against Gray’s.
He’s yours, she reminded herself. Stop acting like a jealous middle school girl.
> Luckily Luna was distracted from having to ignore Aurora when their food arrived. Turned out fish and chips in England tasted almost the same as they did in America. Only this particular dish still had needle-like bones hiding in the delicate white meat, so Luna settled with eating all of her large cut fries, or “chips” as Sev called them. She knew she needed to eat because her one measly drink was already getting to her. She was such a lightweight.
“Ugh,” Chord complained, dropping his half-eaten sandwich on his plate. “After eating angel food for months, human food tastes like dog biscuits.”
Brielle shushed him as the waitress came back around to ask how their meals were. Chord chose to keep his mouth shut about his newfound distaste for human food. Trying to make her fries last the entire meal, too afraid to attempt to eat more of her bone-filled fish, Luna nibbled at the crispy potatoes and scanned the bar. It was relatively empty for the dinner hour. She’d figured it would have been packed. Granted, it was a weekday. At least, she thought it was. Her concept of time was sort of skewed now.
Then all thoughts of time and fish bones vanished from her mind.
If Luna’s eyes hadn’t been staring in the direction of the bar, she wouldn’t have noticed the pair of long, black, beetle-like pincers reaching out of the curtained back room, clasping the arm of the startled barkeep, and pulling him quickly out of sight.
“Oh my God!” she said, her back straightening to attention, her hand flashing to the crux holstered in her waistband.
The others at the table snapped their heads in her direction.
“What?” Logan looked from her twin to the now bartender-less bar. “What did you see?”
Before Luna had a chance to answer, the lights in the pub flickered a couple of times and went out completely, followed by the bloodcurdling screams of the patrons as more than darkness descended on them.
Echo (The Halo Series Book 2) Page 11
