Stellar (The Halo Series Book 3)

by Melody Robinette

  He swallowed the hard lump forming in his throat.

  “Aurora, we need to talk. Alone.”

  Five

  SEVASTION

  Sev read the message scrolling across the Prophecy band for perhaps the tenth or eleventh time before the report blinked off, and the band returned to its original black color. He'd been in the study of his apartment, surrounded by the books in which he so frequently sought answers and comfort. Yet there he sat at his heavy wooden desk, amid a pile of papers and sketches created by him and Chord, and he felt no contentment in the ink-stained pages.

  A loud knock sounded on the door to his study and, predictably, two seconds later, Chord came storming in wearing a white cotton robe with a towel wrapped like a turban around his head. He held his left wrist in the air.

  “Did you see this shit right here?” he exclaimed, tapping at the Prophecy like it was a watch that had stopped working. “Those bastards are still attacking people, turning them into Beasts. It’s like we wasted all of that time and energy locking the towns just to make the humans easier for them to capture and turn into those wire-mouthed zombie creatures!”

  “Yes, I saw it.”

  That was all Sev was able to get in before Chord continued on with his rant.

  “It’s unbelievable! What the hell was the point of all that? What the hell are we doing here on this angel island city when we could be out there doing something productive? Jesus Christ." He paused in his rant to look Sev up and down. "What are you doing in here anyway?”

  Sev need only hold up a paper covered in Chord’s own demon sketches to make him go off again, gesturing dramatically.

  “See?" Chord said. "This is what I’m talking about. You’re sitting in here working on a demon compendium that, I’m sorry, isn’t going to help anyone just yet. Perhaps later on, but not yet. And I’m in my bathroom plucking my eyebrows. Well, that is to say, I was before this thing went off.”

  Pursing his lips to the side to keep from laughing, Sev quirked an un-plucked eyebrow up at his boyfriend. “Well, they look very nice. Your eyebrows, I mean.”

  Chord whirled around, his mouth hanging half open. “That’s not the point, Sevastion.” He removed the towel from around his head, flicked his dripping hair out of his eyes, and ran a finger over his coarse brow. “But thank you. I can never get the left one to behave quite as well as the right.”

  “You are correct, though,” Sev admitted. “This compendium is doing nothing to help the current situation.”

  Chord bit his lip, knowing how much it took for Sev to admit he was working fruitlessly towards something. “I didn’t mean—”

  “I know you didn’t.” Sev turned away from Chord, back to his mound of papers, fingering through them. “But you’re right. The real problem at hand is the Beasts. They are little more than demonized zombies created by the Horns, but their souls are still being housed safely in their Celestials until a Halo or angel kills them. We can try to keep the Horns out of the humans' houses all we want, but that doesn’t turn the Beasts back into people.”

  Chord’s eyes narrowed, and he looked at Sev with a side-turned head. “You don’t want to write another book, do you? About Beasts? A Beast Compendium?”

  “No.”

  “A Beast Encyclopedia then? Or a Beast Anthology?”

  “No. No book.” Sev shook his head, looking down at the drawing Chord had created of the Sabnock demon. He ran a finger over the sharp incisors, the detail of the scaly, reptilian skin--like the body of a velociraptor had been paired with the head and fangs of an ancient Basilisk. “I think we should find a way to turn them back to humans.”

  Chord crossed his fluffy, robe-covered arms over his chest, tapping his slipper-covered foot in thought. “Okay, well…how do you propose we do that?”

  Sev looked from the drawing of the Sabnock up to Chord, his lips turning up into a knowing half-smile. “First…we have to capture a Beast.”

  Six

  AURORA

  Gray hadn’t even bothered following Aurora to her apartment. He knew better than to not allow her space after delivering some of the worst news she could ever receive. Since the beginning, when Aurora learned she was a Halo, her primary goal had been to protect her family—what little family she had. Her mother and her brother. They had been her world. And now half of that world was gone. She knew it wasn’t Gray’s fault, and from what he’d said, he had done everything he could to keep the worst from happening. But that didn’t make up for the fact that he hadn’t told her the second he’d seen her. He'd waited days. There was no excuse for that.

  Slamming the door shut behind her, Aurora barely made it three steps inside of her unfamiliar apartment before she completely fell apart, collapsing onto the floor like a snowman melting in the sun. Clawing at her armor, she ripped off her weapons belt, letting it clatter heavily to the floor. Reaching into her back pocket, she tore the crux from its holster and threw it across the room.

  Screw those weapons. What good were they? What was the fucking point of all of this anyway? Because, at this moment, she couldn’t seem to find one.

  The pain in her gut was sharp, and it took her breath away. Gasping breaths wracked her body, making her bend over double. She couldn’t get enough air. Then the sobs came. She hadn’t let herself cry like this in a long time. It was the kind of crying that would haunt a person for years to come. The kind of crying that broke and healed you at the same time. Though the breaking part always felt like it won out. Aurora cried like this until she didn’t think she could produce any more tears, until nothing but dry sobs fading into hiccups remained.

  Her face throbbed from the blood that had rushed to it, and she tucked her feet beneath her, crisscrossing her arms around herself, hugging tightly. She leaned forward until her cheek was pressed up against the cool marble floor. Memories of her brother flooded her mind, and a new wave of tears pricked her eyes, spilling across her nose and splashing onto the hard floor. She almost wished she was like Alice in Wonderland and could cry enough tears to drown in them.

  “Mom?”

  The small voice made Aurora jump. She lifted her head to see the face of Soren. His skin had a sheet-white pallor, and his bright blue eyes were wide. He wore a dark blue T-shirt and black pants that looked as if they were made from the same material as her Halo armor. His hair was still damp from his morning shower, the ends curling up like Gray’s did.

  Great. Not only was she a terrible sister, but she was a terrible mother as well, having completely forgotten that her son was likely still asleep in the apartment. Actually, she’d forgotten he was even there at all. Which made her feel exponentially worse.

  She said nothing, just sat up and ran her sleeve under her still-leaking eyes. Her eyes ached from crying, and she was sure they were swollen and red like she knew her lips and cheeks were. She probably looked like a blubbering monster.

  But Soren didn’t seem concerned with this. “What happened? Did my dad…”

  Aurora’s mind tried to piece the last bit of his sentence together. Did his dad what? Hurt her? Destroy the world? Die? Which did Soren fear the most?

  Pulling her legs out from under her, Aurora wrapped her arms around them. She thought for a moment whether or not she should tell him. It seemed to be common practice to shelter children from the harshest truths, letting the world teach them at the latest moment, allowing them to remain innocent as long as possible. But Soren was part Horn. The Light only knew what he’d already seen in his short life. Aurora wouldn’t know. She hadn’t been there. Honesty was all Aurora could offer him. She couldn’t be the mother he never had because she simply didn’t know how. She couldn’t read him bedtime stories or rock him to sleep. She couldn’t kneel beside him as he blew out the flickering candles covering his birthday cake. And she couldn’t make up the time they’d lost.

  But she could give him the truth. She remembered when she was young sometimes the truth was all she really wanted. No sugar coating. No fairy tales.
Just the truth.

  “My brother died,” she said finally. Her voice sounded as thick as her tears had been.

  Soren’s face went even whiter. “Today?”

  Aurora bit her lip to keep it from trembling. It didn’t help. “Not today.”

  “When?” Soren moved closer, keeping three feet of distance between them as he sank onto the marble step leading up to the front door. His eyes were on Aurora.

  “A few days ago. When the Horns and Beasts were burning bodies in the streets of Seattle.”

  Soren’s demeanor darkened as he looked down at his lap, hands curling inward. “Oh. Who…who told you he died?”

  Aurora tried to swallow the tightness in her throat. It didn’t help. “Gray.”

  Soren glanced up. “Are you mad at him now?”

  Her left shoulder shrugged up to her ear. “Kind of.”

  Soren’s eyes showed whites on all sides. Aurora couldn’t tell if it was because he was reacting to her news or because he was surprised by her candor. “Are you mad because he didn’t save your brother?”

  She shook her head. “No. Not because of that… I know he did everything he could.”

  “Then why?”

  “For waiting until now to tell me.” Aurora slid her legs out, leaning back against a rounded floor-to-ceiling beam. Sobbing was exhausting.

  Soren seemed genuinely confused as to why Aurora would be upset with Gray over something he hadn’t had any direct hand in. It almost made her want to forgive him. Almost.

  “Would him telling you about your brother sooner make it hurt less?” His head tilted to the side, arms crossed over his knees.

  Aurora frowned at this. “Well…no.”

  “Then why are you mad at him?” he asked a second time. “Don’t you think he was just trying to keep you from hurting for as long as possible?”

  Part of her wanted to snap at Soren for defending Gray rather than agreeing with her on the wrongness of what he’d done. But mostly, she was awestruck by the amount of wisdom Soren had managed to acquire in his short eight years of life.

  “Because if I’m not mad at him, then I’ll have to be mad at myself,” Aurora whispered, fighting back the urge to cry again.

  “Why do you have to be mad at anybody?” Soren asked. “Why can’t you just be sad?”

  For a moment, Aurora felt guilty that she was the one being consoled by her child. She was supposed to be the parent, the voice of reason, the calming force. But then she remembered when her grandmother passed away, and her mom stumbled into her room, collapsing and breaking down in Aurora’s arms. Aurora had rocked her and patted her back, letting her mom take a break from being ever strong. Now, it seemed, it was Soren’s turn to give Aurora that break. It was his turn to be the strong one.

  Aurora let the tears she’d been holding back fall again. “Okay, Soren. I’ll just be sad.”

  Seven

  BRIELLE

  Pausing at Logan’s door, Brielle held up a fist to knock, then hesitated. Her hand opened and closed and then pulled away. Clearly, Logan wanted to be left alone. And, though it felt like she was crumbling from the inside out, Brielle wanted to give her the space she needed. It was frustrating, to say the least. Growing up, anytime she had been distraught, Brielle would call her best friend or boyfriend at the time—unless he was the reason, of course. She wanted, needed, the comfort of another human being. Usually, it only took a few jokes told by her best friend, and Brielle would forget the reason she'd been perturbed in the first place.

  Granted, the reasons she was usually upset had been trivial compared to what Logan was going through. Brielle never had a sibling, so she couldn't fathom what it might feel like to lose one. All she knew was, if what happened to Logan had happened to Brielle, she would've wanted Logan by her side. Because being alone made everything worse. It magnified the pain, making it splay out of her and ricochet off the walls before lightning-bolting its way back into her core. It was as if having someone there beside her cushioned the blow.

  Brielle tried not to think about it too much now. She tried to focus on all the positive things. Since locking New York and traveling to Seattle--since the fall of Caducus--the world seemed a heck of a lot bleaker.

  Backing away from Logan’s door, Brielle made the journey down to the little coffee shop on the bottom floor of their apartments. Coffee always made things better.

  “One vanilla latte please.”

  She had to stop herself from ordering it “skinny.” Beside the fact that angels didn’t make lattes “skinny,” the amount of training and demon fighting Halos went through kept any amount of fat on her body at bay. Plus, who cared about a couple of stupid calories?

  There were a lot of things she’d cared about in her previous life that she had to suppress now. Material things now meant next to nothing to her, though she hadn’t been able to part from her beloved mascara and lipgloss. Her designer handbag was a bit too bulky and impractical. So she kept her gloss in her belt holster next to her crux, which Chord found absolutely hilarious.

  The two baristas flawlessly created her latte, scraping the seeds off an actual vanilla bean and pouring a perfect, frothy heart in the black-speckled milk.

  One of the baristas popped a lid on the top of the tall paper cup and handed her drink over with a bright smile. “Here you are, Brielle.”

  Brielle smiled back, but it felt forced. She hated that.

  “Thanks. Y’all have a good day.”

  A bubbly voice from behind her rang out then. “OMG. Did you just say 'y’all?'”

  Pivoting on her heel, Brielle turned to see a platinum blonde with bouncy curls and bright red lipstick approaching the counter.

  “Yes…?”

  “So, you’re from the south too? What state? Your accent doesn’t seem thick enough for Alabama or Georgia.”

  “Texas.”

  The girl let out a high-pitched squeal, and Brielle mentally apologized to all of the people she’d ever done that to.

  “So am I!” the girl said in the same ringing voice. “My God, I can’t tell you how good it is to meet someone from back home. All of the people they put me with are Northerners and West-Coasters and East-Coasters. I mean, I love them, but still. They don’t seem to get half of the things I say!”

  This girl’s bubbly drawl immediately made Brielle miss all of her old Texas friends. Her new friends had a lot more social shortcomings what with Logan shutting her out and Chord and Sev secluding themselves more than ever and Aurora being…well, Aurora.

  Brielle smiled in spite of herself. “Yeah, I know what you mean…”

  “Can I have a vanilla latte please?” The girl said to the baristas before turning back to Brielle and giggling. “I have to tell myself not to order it skinny. I’m Danni Jo, by the way.”

  “Brielle.”

  The two Texas girls shook hands and, just like that, Brielle had made a new friend. It was always that easy with Texans. At least, in her experience, and especially in a college town like Corpus Christi.

  Brielle waited for Danni Jo to get her latte, and they left the apartment buildings to walk down the silver plated sidewalks of Hiraeth. Turned out, the bubbly blonde was from Lubbock, a West Texas hub city that was just as much cultural college students as it was cowboy town. Brielle had been there to visit extended family once. The scenery wasn’t much to speak of, but, on the edge of the city, where the buildings and trees were sparse, the sunsets could rival any other. Then, after the sun sank beneath the horizon, the black night sky—free of light pollution—showed off the brilliance of the stars.

  The best part of this new friendship, for Brielle at least, was that she wasn’t attracted to Danni Jo at all. She was a beautiful girl, enviably so, with her natural platinum hair and eyes the color of clear blue sea glass. But Brielle felt no draw to her, not like she felt with Logan. Which reassured her fears of turning into a raging homosexual. Well, those had been Chord’s words, but still.

  Danni Jo walked with a ha
lf-skip in her step, her curls bouncing from the movement. “I was surprised by how many people in my group weren’t Christian to begin with. It was so weird. We were on this ship full of angels, and I was the odd one out.”

  “Same here,” Brielle said. “They sort of hated me at first.”

  “Really? Everyone in my group was pretty cool about it. Well, except for the gay guy, Anthony.”

  Brielle tensed at this. And she hated that she did. But there it was. Just the mention of the “g-word” made her muscles go rigid and her heart pump faster, perhaps to prepare for the judgment she felt sure was about to be inadvertently thrown her way. Even though she didn’t feel gay. Being with Logan automatically put her under the “queer” umbrella, whether she wanted to be there or not.

  Danni Jo’s next words, though, made Brielle relax considerably. “But when he realized that I was cool with all of that, he warmed up to me. My brother’s gay, so I can’t really be too judge-y about it, huh?”

  Brielle’s laugh held a nervous edge to it. “Well, you could. But it’s good that you aren’t.” She failed to mention that she had actually been rather “judge-y” in regard to Chord when she’d first found out he was gay.

  Danni Jo shrugged. “My parents always taught me to be as much like Jesus as possible. And Jesus was accepting and loving. He hung out with whores and stuff. I’m pretty sure he’d hang out with my brother too. At least, that’s what I’d like to think.”

  Brielle smiled faintly at this. “Yeah, I think you’re right.”

  “Jax--one of the guys in my group—says I’m ‘good people,’ so at least they’re all cool with my weird Texan ways.”

  “Jax?”

  “Yeah. He’s this super huge black guy in our group. He was in the air force before all this, but he’s like a big teddy bear.”