Aurora’s eyes snapped open as if she knew they were being watched. Her gaze landed on a figure across the street.
Ash blonde hair, wide, tear-filled gray eyes, slender hand held up to cover an agape mouth.
Aurora gasped, and Gray took this as a noise of pleasure, pulling her more tightly against him.
“Gray,” she said urgently. “Stop.”
His arms went limp at her words, and his eyes held confusion and the shadow of pain. She shook her head slightly and nodded across the street.
Gray’s gaze cut to the spot Aurora had indicated, and his body sagged in shame.
Luna stayed long enough to fix the pair of them with all the hate and hurt she had in her slight frame before she turned and ran in the opposite direction.
Twenty-Nine
LUNA
Luna’s legs and lungs ached as she put as much distance between her and Gray’s betrayal as possible.
She’d never been much of a runner—or anything physical for that matter—but she didn’t stop sprinting until Church Street turned into 6th Avenue before ducking into a hidden alley that stunk of garbage and cigarettes.
Wrapping her arms around herself, she doubled over, the pain of Gray’s unfaithfulness hitting her in the stomach like a wave of sickness.
She knew it. She knew it. Logan and Gray and Aurora had all tried to make her feel like she was going crazy, that her jealousy was unfounded.
But she knew the two Stellars had been hiding their true feelings for each other, tucking them away and pretending they weren’t there. Luna had probably been Gray’s way of trying to forget that he loved an unlovable girl.
And the worst part was Luna still wanted him. More than anything in the world. She still wanted him to be hers. And she knew, if he came to apologize, she’d let him suffer for a bit before eventually taking him back. Because she loved him.
It was as simple as that.
She was in love with Grayson Cross.
An unfamiliar voice spoke from the shadows of the alley. “The pain of a shattered heart is the greatest of all, isn’t it?”
Luna jumped at the broken silence. Her gaze flashed up to a pair of startlingly blue eyes beneath a shock of fair hair.
The man was dressed in a claret-colored cloak with a withdrawn hood. She had foolishly left all weapons back at the firehouse.
The only device she carried was her crux, which wasn’t much use against people. But then…this man didn’t seem like an ordinary human being either.
Luna’s words came out in a thick breath, a stray tear falling down her cheek. “Who are you?”
The man tilted his head to the side and afforded her a sympathetic smile. “I’m your greatest ally.”
She knew she shouldn’t trust him. It was evident he was on the side of Darkness. But then… Gray’s face popped into her mind, followed by the vision of him kissing Aurora. The vision that would forever haunt her.
“How can you help me?”
The stranger’s mouth turned up at the corner. “I can make that girl you just pictured go away forever.”
Luna’s eyes widened. “How did you—?”
“But you have to help me in return,” the man continued. “I will draw Aurora away from your group, but it is essential you keep Gray from going after her for as long as possible. Can you do that?”
Biting her lip, and looking down the alley to the main street, she contemplated running. This felt wrong. But being sweet little Luna hadn’t exactly gotten her anywhere either.
So she turned back to the man. “What do I need to do?”
Thirty
BRIELLE
Trinity Church was one of the oldest churches in New York. Brielle had learned about it long ago when she’d grown obsessed with the architecture of early American churches.
The ancient structure looked shockingly out of place in the middle of the skyscraper jungle. The building was imbued with history, stabbing through the sky with the sharpness of a blade, the dark stone in direct contrast with the shiny glass buildings around it, whispering its age.
Brielle approached it with wide eyes and shaking hands. The doors were open, but no one had the desire to visit this early in the morning, apparently, because she was the only one there.
When she and the others awoke that morning, Gray and Aurora were missing. Luna had been the only one who seemed worried. The others knew that the two Stellars probably wanted their alone time over coffee like they used to on Etheria…before Luna came into the picture.
But Brielle didn’t want to worry about Aurora and Gray. And she selfishly didn’t care about Luna’s hurt feelings. She had her own issues to examine.
The interior of the church took her breath away. Tall, arched ceilings with crisscrossed designs, chandelier-like light fixtures hanging from the rafters, dark wooden pews facing a slightly raised alter, multi-colored stained glass windows letting in the filtered morning light.
It was silent and empty, and Brielle swore she could feel God’s presence there, as she always did in old cathedrals. This feeling made her eyes well up as she walked alone down the aisle to the front pew, sitting down.
She felt small. And lost.
Hot tears rolled down her cold cheeks. She didn’t know who she was anymore. Before she knew she was a Halo, she’d been certain of her place in the world. She was a proud Christian. She’d read the Bible from cover to cover. She had a plethora of verses dancing in her head, at the ready, in times of need.
After meeting the other Halos, she realized she’d been using those verses as a weapon more than the words of love and healing she thought God meant them to be. She’d been naïve, and judged the others for their minuscule sins, but ignored her own.
She knew that now.
But she still couldn’t quite come to terms with the feelings she was having toward Logan. She’d learned to accept Chord and his way of life, and she didn’t believe he was destined for hell anymore. Why, then, was she certain that was where her soul was heading?
As if conjured by her thoughts, the door of the church opened to reveal the raven-haired beauty who haunted her. Logan.
Brielle’s heart clenched, and the tears came down faster.
“I thought I’d find you here.” Logan’s voice was quieter than usual. Cathedrals tended to have that effect on even the most loquacious of individuals.
“How?” Brielle’s voice was thick through her tears.
Logan pretended not to notice as she sank down on her right side. “I heard you talking about it to one of the firemen last night.”
“Oh.” She didn’t want Logan to see her cry, mostly because she was partly the reason. And Brielle didn’t want her to feel guilty or sorry about her inner turmoil. It wasn’t Logan’s fault Brielle was attracted to her. She didn’t want to tell Logan. But she did anyway. “I don’t know what I am anymore, Logan,” she said through a sob. “I’ve never…felt anything like this before. Not even about a guy. But I’ve also never—ever—been attracted to a girl before. Not ever. And I don’t understand why this is happening to me now. I keep thinking I’m being punished for all of the judgments I’ve made on people before.”
Logan didn’t reach over and grab her hand. She didn’t try to comfort her or make it better. She listened, and then she spoke. “I used to have the same problem…wanting a label, that is. Needing one. But, in my case, it was for religion.”
“Religion?”
Logan nodded. “I didn’t know what I was because I knew I couldn’t be a Christian without being labeled a hypocrite for being gay too. I went searching for answers, and, after years of feeling like no religion would accept me, I came across the term ‘philosophical theism.’ Basically, it’s the belief that God exists, but independently from the teaching of any particular religion. It’s the belief in a God separate from any doctrine. I realized that was what I was. And, the stupid part was, when I found a label that fit me, I actually felt validated in my beliefs, simply because there was a term for it.
Like having that label had suddenly made my feelings real, instead of something I thought I’d fabricated in my head. Then I realized I was sick of labels. All of them. I wanted to be like the ocean.”
Brielle quirked a brow at this. “The ocean…?”
“Yeah. Everyone uses birds as a metaphor for being free. But I think that’s stupid. Birds can be caged or locked up in a zoo. But, the ocean? It’s bigger than anything else. There’s nothing more free than the ocean. It’s so fathomless that humans know more about the solar system than our own oceans. When a person labels something, it’s because they want to put it in a box, so people know what it is. And they do it so they know how to judge something if, God forbid, it tries to scratch and claw its way out of the box. Well, I’d like to think I’m too great to fit into a box. I’m not just a lesbian or just a philosophical theist. And I’m not just a Power Halo. I’m Logan Elizabeth Langley. I’m the only Logan Elizabeth Langley there is or will ever be. That’s my label. Fuck all the rest of them.”
And, even though Brielle would question the appropriateness of this later—given that they were sitting in the front pew of a church—she leaned over and kissed Logan. Not with the level of raw, animal-like passion as before, but softly, tenderly.
She did this because of what Logan had said because she was right and Brielle knew it. She did it because it just felt right and she was tired of trying to fight against it. She did it to thank Logan for pulling her out of the deep trenches of shame and doubt.
But, mostly…she did it because she damned well felt like it.
Thirty-One
GRAY
Gray wasn’t going to go after Luna. But Aurora urged him to.
“Go,” she’d said.
“Aurora—”
“What we did was wrong. Go after her, Gray. Go make it right.”
Just like that. She’d taken a step away from him, folding her arms across her chest, waiting for him to leave. So, he did what she said.
He left. Each heavy foot-fall sent a jolt of pain up his leg, shocking his aching heart.
It didn’t take Gray long to find Luna. She hadn’t gone far. He slowed his jog to a stop when he saw her emerging from an alley just past 6th Avenue. Her eyes were red-rimmed and mascara tears were painted down her cheeks. Guilt clenched at Gray’s stomach.
He’d done that to her.
And the worst part was…he didn’t regret it. He didn’t regret kissing Aurora. And he knew he never would. He also knew how horrible that was.
“Luna…” he began, then trailed off. What was he supposed to say? Sorry? He tried again. “Luna, I—”
She held up a hand, cutting him off as she moved to press her back against the wall of the brick building closest to the alley. “Gray, stop. You don’t have to say anything. I get it.”
Of all the things she could have said, this was not what Gray had been expecting. “You…what?”
“I get it,” she repeated. “Aurora is your Stellar, so you feel drawn to her. But that doesn’t mean you would ever work together. It doesn’t mean you love her more than me.”
In the dark corners of his mind, Gray silently disagreed. “Wait. Are you saying you’re…okay with what I did?”
Luna shrugged. “Of course I’m not okay with it. We aren’t finished talking about it. Just…don’t do it again, okay?”
Then Luna was hugging him, and he was forcing himself to hug her back as he tried to figure out what the hell had just happened. He had fully expected her to break up with him. And Gray wouldn’t have blamed her in the slightest.
This, though, he had not been expecting.
“I’m starving,” she said after a moment. “Know any good breakfast places around here?”
Gray looked down at her with a slightly agape mouth, confusion etched in his features. "There’s a donut place nearby...”
“Great.” Luna grabbed his hand. “Lead the way.”
Heaving a deep breath, Gray led her in the direction of Holey Moley’s, acutely aware of the dark irony of the situation.
AURORA
After the fiasco with kissing Gray, then Luna seeing and running away, Aurora was glad to get back to Echo, letting them have their little fight while she drowned herself in sugar clouds.
She sat on the top deck—on the swing set, of course—looking out over the brightly lit city. Reluctant guilt trickled across her skin like a thousand beetles. She wasn’t sure why she’d kissed Gray. She’d known it was a bad idea, she’d known it would hurt Luna if she ever found out.
Well, she found out, all right. She’d gotten an in-person show. After Luna had run off, Aurora urged Gray to go after her. He seemed to hesitate at first, but then the good guy in him kicked in, and he left Aurora in the church cemetery, standing next to a half-empty bag of donut holes.
Gray and Luna were both gone for a long time, but when they returned to the firehouse, they were clearly still together. Which somehow didn’t surprise her. Luna wasn’t about to let go of him that easily. And Aurora didn’t blame her.
Aurora had never been the other woman before. She believed pretty strongly in girl code. Even though girls could be straight up bitches sometimes.
But, with Gray…a part of her—a rather large part—believed she had some claim to him. They shared a soul, after all. And their first kiss would go down in history as the most explosive of all Stellar kisses.
Literally.
But none of that made what she’d done okay. She would apologize to Luna. But not tonight.
When Gray and Luna made it back to Echo, they’d disappeared into her room and hadn’t come out.
“Hey, angel face.”
Aurora turned to see Chord appearing at the top of the stairs, two mugs of something in his hands. He approached, offering her one. “Hot chocolate?”
“Sure. Thanks.” She took the beverage, breathing in the thick sweetness before taking a sip. “Why aren’t we obese yet?”
“I’m convinced that is our true angel power.” Chord settled into the swing beside her. “The ability to eat terrible things and still be all svelte and sexy.”
Aurora snorted. “Great. We will be known as the Glutton Halos.”
“Yeah… So. What the hell happened with Gray and Luna?”
Clutching her mug more tightly, Aurora looked down at her lap, saying nothing. Her gaze cut sideways to Chord and his eyes slowly widened in realization. “Oh, Jesus. You hooked up with him, didn’t you?”
An incriminating blush crept across her cheeks. “We kissed.”
Chord waved a hand at this. “Ah, that’s not that bad. I thought she’d caught you going at it in Central Park or something.”
“It is that bad. I may be cold and heartless, but I’m not one to take someone else’s man.”
Chord’s eyes rolled at this. “Please, Aurora. We all know Gray is your man. Luna is just borrowing him for awhile until you come to your damned senses.”
Aurora ignored this. “So, how are things with you and Sev?”
He let out a humorless laugh. “Oh, absolutely nonexistent. There are not ‘things’ to speak of. We went to the funeral, had amazing sex when we got back, I saved his life in the clock tower battle, and now he’s pretending I don’t exist. Again.”
“Wait, wait, wait.” Aurora held up both of her hands. “You had sex after his parents funeral?”
Chord moved his pointer finger through the air. “Hey, he was the one that came into my room. I just…let him.”
“You and I are all kinds of screwed up, you know that?”
Chord held out his hot chocolate mug and clinked it against Aurora’s. “Cheers.”
Thirty-Two
AURORA
It’s all good and well to repeat the words, “It’s just a dream,” when you are cognizant of the fact that you are actually dreaming.
But, when you can’t discern the dream from reality…what then?
Aurora was in the old apartment she had shared with her mom and brother. She wasn’t sure
how she’d gotten there or when she’d left Echo, but there she was.
The warmth and sense of belonging that usually encompassed her when she returned to this place was noticeably absent now. It was as if all the familial love and memories had been sucked out of the air and replaced with something much more sinister.
Despite the fact that everything was still seemingly in its place—from the faded purple afghan woven by her grandmother to Danny’s zoo of stuffed animals piled along the brick of the fireplace—something felt wrong. Very wrong. But Aurora couldn’t quite put her finger on why.
Her voice cracked through the suffocating silence as she spoke a single echoing word: “Mom?”
No answer.
The sick feeling in her stomach deepened, and soon tremors joined in, shaking her to the core. Even if her mother had been sleeping, Danny surely would have heard his sister’s arrival and come to investigate.
Taking a tentative step forward, Aurora’s head swiveled left and right, searching for clues to tell her that her family was okay.
Long shadows painted the gray walls. A chill that had nothing to do with the coolness of the season raised the hair on Aurora’s arms.
Looking down, she realized with a jolt that she was wearing an outfit she’d discarded years ago—the day David had stolen her once wholesome worldview and slashed his claws through it, making it bleed with dark reality. She’d encountered demons long before she’d become a Halo.
She felt the urge to undress, to remove the red skirt and white shirt that would always remind her of what David had taken from her.
As she released one of the buttons, she heard the voice that part of her had expected to hear.
“Taking those clothes off won’t remove their weight, little lamb.”
Whipping around, her golden hair swinging from the motion, Aurora took in David, standing like a shadow in the threshold of the apartment.
Echo (The Halo Series Book 2) Page 17
