Black Halo (Grace Series)

by S. L. Naeole

  His face was contorted in pain as he rose, bringing me with him. The spangles of black and white that appeared as I slowly began the process of losing consciousness nearly blocked out something that I had missed. I saw…sadness. It was difficult to make out because the horrible disfigured eyes skewed my perception of his emotions, but I couldn’t mistake the distress on his face—it was so familiar, almost too much so—and I felt a slight pang of pity for him.

  And then everything was gone and I was back in bed, the covers pulled up over my chest and pressed against my throat and mouth. I pushed them down and began gasping for air, each breath feeling like I couldn’t get enough, each exhalation a struggle.

  The darkness in my room was striking; I sat up and leaned towards the window, looking out onto the darkened street. The extinguished streetlights were evidence of a power outage while the sky was an endless swath of black, the moon and stars having seemingly vanished. Everything was dark with the exception of a few candlelit windows and the shine of a flashlight or two.

  Out of habit, my head turned to glance towards my dresser and I sighed when I saw no backlit numbers showing the time. “Of course—no power, no clock.”

  Seeing no point, I lay back down on the bed and stared up at the ceiling, my thoughts filled with the scenes that had played out in my dream. Nothing had changed; nothing had deviated from it in any way. After more than two weeks of seeing the same situations repeat themselves over and over again in my head, it surprised me that only now did I notice something that I hadn’t before.

  “It’s just a dream,” I told myself as self-loathing began to rise up within me. “It isn’t real—I do not feel that way.”

  A sudden burst of light caught my attention and I sat up quickly. I looked out of the window and sighed in relief—the power was back on. It looked like everyone in the neighborhood hadn’t read their blackout safety manuals because it appeared that every single light in every house on my street was on, including one that apparently hadn’t taken down its Christmas lights yet. The sound of multiple televisions set to their highest volume levels mixed with various radios and barking dogs—who were just as startled by the sudden reappearance of the lights as I probably was—to create an almost unbearable concert of unintelligible noise.

  The street shone with the vibrant overuse of electricity and it didn’t look like anyone was ready to turn anything off any time soon. I blinked as porch lights began to flip on, washing the street with even more light. Groaning, I pulled my curtain shut and threw myself backwards onto my bed once more, my arm crossing over my eyes to block out the filtered glow that remained behind.

  As the sounds outside slowly died down, I waited patiently for the lights to soon follow—surely it was too late for most of my neighbors to still be up—but the glow that peeked through the cracks my arm left over my eyes didn’t fade. Instead, it grew brighter, as though someone had turned on my bedroom light.

  I squeezed my eyes shut and pressed my arm tighter against my face, but the brightness still seeped through.

  “This is ridiculous!” I huffed as I sat up, shielding my eyes from the light with my hand.

  I pushed aside the curtain and saw that the lights across the street were out—everyone was asleep. There wasn’t a single light on.

  “What’s going on?” I mumbled to myself as I turned around.

  The glow that filled my room was a bright golden hue that came not from the streetlights or the neighbors’ homes. The street was dark and quiet behind the curtain. No, the glow that nearly blinded me came from a singular source that smiled at me from the center of my room, a deceivingly beautiful and friendly smile that was framed by a face that would have charmed anyone else.

  His eyes glittered, the golden irises liquid from a nameless joy and his hand was reaching out towards me with unknown intent. Gone were the withered skin and the colorless hair. Gone was the frail and weak body. Sam stood in my bedroom, strong and youthfully handsome. And frighteningly real.

  And I screamed.

  Instantly the light was gone, my room thrown once more into darkness. I could hear my heart stomping in my chest from the fear of seeing that face again, and my hands were cold and clammy from nervous sweat.

  “Grace!”

  I turned around to see Robert standing beside the bed, his face awash with concern and fear. I barely had time to register his presence before he came to me and quickly wrapped me in his embrace, and for a moment I forgot about everything else but the feeling of being in his arms, being safe, being loved.

  “Grace, I heard you scream—what happened? You!”

  I turned around and saw Graham’s angry expression being led by a clenched fist at rapid speed towards Robert’s face. I threw myself in front of him without thinking—or perhaps I thought too quickly—and received the punch that had been meant for Robert squarely in my right eye.

  A CHOICE

  I went down like a brick, landing at Robert’s feet, my hand instantly rising to cover my throbbing face. He came down with me, his hand pressing against my own, his voice soothing and comforting as he brushed my forehead with his lips several times.

  Graham just stood there, staring at me in shock, his fist held up in mid-air. “You…why did you…oh my God, I hit you! Oh my God. Oh. My. God.”

  “You didn’t mean to,” I mumbled as I began to feel the heat from Robert’s hand flow through my own, his healing occurring much quicker than expected.

  “It’s only superficial,” Robert murmured, his lips still pressed against my head. “This will be over quickly.”

  “What are you doing in her room?” Graham asked angrily. “Why did you scare her like that? What were you trying to do?”

  Robert ignored his questions, but I didn’t.

  “I didn’t scream because of him, Graham. It was Sam—he was in my room.”

  Robert didn’t flinch at my explanation—he already knew what had happened—but Graham fell to his knees and crawled to me, placing his hands on my legs in supplication.

  “I’m sorry, Grace. I’m sorry—I was downstairs, I was here and he still got in. He could have hurt you and I was here—what if he had hurt you? What if… And I hit you—the serial killing angel comes into your room and I’m the one that hurts you. Oh, God.”

  I pulled myself away from Robert and wrapped my arms around Graham’s trembling frame, wondering just when I had become the comforter and he the scared victim.

  “I’m okay, Graham. I’m okay, see? Graham, look at me.”

  His eyes rose to look at my face and as he took in the lack of damage, I took in the red-rimmed eyes and the blotchy complexion. “Graham, don’t beat yourself up over this. It’s my fault—I put myself in front of Robert.”

  “Why?”

  Robert and Graham looked at each other, both surprised by the question coming out of both of their mouths.

  I looked at the two of them, my head swinging one way and then the other, surprised that they didn’t know.

  “Graham, weren’t you listening to me earlier tonight? You can’t hurt them. You can’t punch them and expect to have anything other than every bone in your hand and arm breaking.”

  He looked at me in disbelief and I couldn’t blame him. I probably wouldn’t have believed it myself if I hadn’t experienced it firsthand. Sighing, I punched Robert’s leg. The audible crunch of my fingers as they cracked from the impact was enough to start Graham into hysterics.

  “What the hell is wrong with you? I believed you; you didn’t have to go and break your hand! Are you crazy?”

  Robert chimed in, his anger at being used as a demonstration piece, not to mention a punching bag being eclipsed only by his anger that I had hurt myself. “This is highly irresponsible of you—your safety is most important to me and you go and hurt yourself to prove a point? He’s not Einstein but he understands that when you’re talking about us, you’re not exaggerating, Grace.”

  I stared at the two of them and then turned my focus to my hand
, which now resembled a lumpy, crystalline grape. “It doesn’t hurt.”

  Robert and Graham both stopped their scolding at my comment.

  “What do you mean, it doesn’t hurt?” Graham asked.

  “Just like the last time,” Robert remarked as he took a hold of my hand.

  The familiar honeycombed bruising that covered my hand and spiraled down my wrist made Graham shake his head several times as he took it all in. “What’s with the funky pattern?”

  “I don’t know. It always does this and nothing I have learned about the human anatomy explains why her bruising always takes on this appearance,” Robert replied before he brought my hand to his mouth. He exhaled on the bruised knuckles and smiled as almost instantly, the skin began to pink up. “You’re healing much faster than normal. The damage wasn’t that extensive.”

  “So you really can heal people, huh?” Graham remarked as he witnessed the change.

  “Not anymore,” came Robert’s sad reply.

  “What are you talking about, man? You just fixed Grace twice in less than ten minutes! If that’s not healing then what is?”

  Robert looked at me and then turned to look at Graham, his expression one of disappointment. “I lost my ability to heal others when I got my call. The only person I am capable of healing now is Grace.”

  “Have you tried to heal others?”

  “Yes, I have. I have tried several times and let me tell you that there is only one thing in this world that is more disappointing than not being able to save another person’s life.” He turned his head once more to look at me and I saw the sorrow that filled his eyes.

  “What is your call anyway, Robert?”

  His head whipped around to glare at Graham. “Why?”

  Graham’s expression remained sincere as he answered. “Because I love Grace. You asked me to keep her safe-”

  “Which you failed to do-”

  “-Yeah, but you still trusted me to do it, and I think that if you’re going to ask me to things like that, I should at least know who is asking me to do it.”

  Robert shook his head. “No.”

  “Why? Are you afraid that I’ll tell someone? I already know what you are, Robert. You trust Grace, right? Well she trusts me. And so does your sister. I’m already a part of this, whether you like it or not, and I think I deserve to know.”

  “No.”

  Graham’s body grew rigid with anger and he jumped to his feet. “I can’t believe this. I waited on the side for you to accept me as Grace’s friend. I accepted the fact that you’re uncomfortable with our friendship and kept my nose out of your relationship for the most part. I defended you to Grace after you broke her heart, and even tried to convince her to take you back. I agreed to stay with her even though I didn’t know why, and you still don’t trust me. You know what? I take all of it back. Grace, he’s a jerk. Forget trying to forgive him—obviously the only person he cares about is himself.”

  Graham stormed out of the room. I turned accusing eyes to Robert and shook my head. “I can’t believe you.” I took off after Graham, nearly tripping down the stairs in the process, and managed to reach him before he closed the door. “Graham, wait!”

  He paused upon hearing me call out but continued walking, leaving the door open behind him. I followed him outside and tried to get in front of him but I had forgotten just how quick he was.

  “Graham, please, stop!”

  He fumbled with something in his pocket and I groaned as he pulled out his keys. Instead of walking to his house, however, he headed towards his car. He climbed into the driver’s seat and started the engine. I stood outside and watched as he put the vehicle into reverse and pulled out.

  I was ready to turn around when I saw the passenger door open. I turned my head to look up at my bedroom window. Through the darkness I could make out the outline of someone standing there, and I bit my lip as I fought with the decision that stood before me.

  Though I remained intensely upset at Robert for what he did, the fact that I still loved him kept me from wanting to hurt him in the same manner that he had hurt me and I knew that by leaving with Graham, that would be exactly what I would be doing. And then there was Graham, who had been put aside by me far too many times because of my love for Robert, and yet he had always returned, his friendship and loyalty stronger than it was before. Would he be able to forgive me yet again?

  I felt the pull in both directions and was amazed as my heart began to throb dully, pain starting to course through my chest as I simply turned away from both of them and began to walk down the sidewalk, choosing instead to quit the game.

  I said a silent prayer of thanks that everyone was asleep as the further I got from the house, the more I realized that I was dressed sparingly in my usual boxers and tank. The quiet of evening only amplified the noises that came from within the homes that I passed by, a testament to the shoddy insulation.

  Snoring, laughing, even the occasional toilet flushing could all be heard as I walked by the homes that were identical to mine in shape, if not by decoration. Of course, my front yard currently looked like a lily graveyard, which made me laugh, the sound of it carried further down the street than I had intended. It was when I reached the end of the block that I finally had had enough of the chilly air and personal noises and turned around.

  “Why am I walking away from my house? It’s my house for crying out loud,” I mumbled to myself as I began passing the familiar houses once more, their faces dark, the curtains all drawn against the black emptiness of the street.

  I could see the porch light of my home blazing a swath of amber light onto the street as I approached. I silently hoped that Graham hadn’t locked the door—I wasn’t interested in climbing in through the kitchen window.

  When I was just a few yards away I spotted the two figures standing on the sidewalk, both of them facing me, their arms crossed over their chests in defiant poses. Graham’s car was now parked in front of my driveway, the headlights still on, beaming directly onto the garage door and revealing just how badly it needed to be repainted.

  I walked towards them and, when they made no attempt to say anything to me, I walked around them and back into the house. I headed to my room, not caring that my feet were probably a filthy mess, or that my clothes were slightly damp from chilled sweat, and laid on my bed, belly down, my face buried in the crook of my arm.

  The door to my room eased open slowly and I turned to see Robert and Graham walk in, their faces solemn, their mood quiet. I stared at them, unwilling to say anything to either of them.

  Graham and Robert looked at each other, obviously each of them equally as unwilling to be the first to speak. Standing beside each other made it easy to see the striking differences between them. Though they were almost the same height, with Robert standing an inch or two taller, it was clear to see that Graham was more muscular, if only in appearance. Robert’s dark hair was longer than Graham’s, and hung slightly in his face, while Graham’s was clipped short and spiked. Robert’s eyes, those silver eyes that could always send my heart into a gallop, were worlds apart from the deep green of Graham’s that had once made me feel like the most important person in the world.

  Even the way they stood was a study in comparison. Graham was so easygoing and laid back, his posture was lazy, his feet spread apart, knees bent. Robert, on the other hand, serious and intense, stood ramrod straight, his feet close together, his knees locked. Their choice in clothes only emphasized the differences between them, light and dark, carefree and focused.

  “Grace, we wanted to apologize for putting you in the middle of our…disagreement,” Robert finally said, breaking my concentration.

  “Yeah, we’re sorry,” Graham concurred

  I could say nothing to them; I simply stared.

  “Your life is in danger and we made it about us—it was wrong of us to do so, and we’ve come to an agreement,” Robert continued.

  Graham nodded his head. “Yeah, Grace. We talked about it
, about what happened tonight, and we’ve kind of compromised on a few things.”

  “Compromised on what?” my muffled voice asked from behind my arm.

  Robert and Graham looked at each other once more and then at me.

  “I can’t keep you safe, Grace. I proved that tonight and it kills me to know that, to admit that, but I have to in order to help Robert do what we both agree he’s meant to do. So, Robert’s agreed-”

  “I’ve agreed to tell Graham what my call is if he agrees to keep your whereabouts a secret from everyone, including your father,” Robert cut in.

  The words didn’t register with me for a bit and I stared at the two of them, mystified by what I had just heard.

  “Grace, Robert’s taking you away from here to his home, and I’m going to stay here so that no one knows you’re gone. When your dad comes home, I’ll tell him you’re staying at Stacy’s or visiting Lark.”

  I sat up, surprised and angry. “You’re going to lie to my dad?”

  He nodded and grinned. “It’s not like I haven’t done it before. Remember the time I broke the front window with the slingshot my dad got me for my tenth birthday?”

  I scowled at him. “Yeah, you told my dad that I did it and I was grounded for a month.”

  “I know, but if he had learned that I did it, I would have been banned from coming over—at least I could still do that while you were grounded,” Graham reminded me.

  The mixture of amusement and guilt in his voice spoke volumes and I sighed in response. “I’m not going. This is my house. I won’t let Sam drive me out of my own home.”

  “Grace, this is not up for discussion,” Robert said, the authority in his voice something that I wasn’t used to. “You’re coming home with me. It’s not safe for you here anymore.”

  “Oh, but it’s safe for Graham?” I snapped.