Brielle ogled him with horrified eyes, and Aurora choked on her food, stifling a laugh.
“Um. Where did you say you were from?” Brielle asked Chord after a moment, as if this would somehow explain his inappropriate expletives.
“Utah,” he answered after swallowing his orgasmic lamb.
Brielle frowned in confusion. Apparently, she’d been expecting him to say he lived somewhere more liberal.
“But I’m going to school in L.A.,” he added.
“Ah. I see.”
Apparently, this explained everything.
Brielle’s questioning wasn’t over, though. She went on to ask Chord about every detail of his life. Aurora and the others learned that Chord was an only child, fatherless, going to UCLA for cinematography, loved classical music, and was a Gemini.
“Yeah, my ex-boyfriend was a Scorpio,” Chord said, rolling his eyes in disgust. “So not compatible.”
It was Brielle’s turn to choke on her food. “Your boyfriend?” she said once she regained the ability to speak.
“Ex-boyfriend,” Chord corrected.
Aurora scanned the table to gauge the others’ reactions. Gray looked at Brielle with a weary expression, Sev was still examining the restaurant, oblivious to any tension, and Samuel looked from Chord to Brielle with an unreadable countenance.
“I see,” Brielle said through pursed lips.
“Is there a problem?” Chord asked in a challenging tone. “Are there no gay people in Texas?”
“Of course there are. I just don’t come across them often, seeing as how I spend most of my time at church,” she said with an arched brow.
An angry red blush crept up Chord's neck. “And what exactly is that supposed to mean?”
“It means she spends more time preaching the Bible than actually reading it,” Aurora blurted, unable to stop herself.
Brielle looked hurt at this. Had she honestly thought Aurora wanted to be her friend? Surely not.
“As a Christian—”
“As a Christian,” Chord interrupted, “you should probably be worrying about more important things than my personal sexual choices, don’t you think?”
“I do worry about other things,” Brielle said, her voice wavering. “As well as trying to enlighten a person when what they are doing isn’t what God wants.”
“Ever heard of not looking at the speck in your neighbor’s eye, but at the plank in your own?” Aurora said, knowing she’d just misquoted the verse.
“Yes. That’s Matthew 7, verse—”
“Okay, so you know where to find it, but do you actually comprehend what it means?” Aurora challenged.
She could feel the eyes of the others moving back and forth between her and Brielle like the crowd at a fast-paced volleyball game.
“You know, I had been planning to visit Texas at some point, but now I think I’ve changed my mind,” Chord said before stuffing another forkful of lamb in his mouth.
Brielle stood abruptly, her chair nearly toppling backwards. As she whipped around, her long hair slapped Chord in the face, causing him to cry out in indignation. Then, she stomped off, leaving the restaurant in a cloud of anger.
For a moment, everyone was silent until Sev spoke. “Well. I expect that’s why my mum always said to never talk about religion or politics at dinner.”
Aurora didn’t know if it was the seriousness with which he said this, or the ridiculousness of Brielle’s behavior, but she began chuckling quietly, at first, and then, steadily louder until her body was shaking with laughter. The others joined in, and soon the awkwardness ebbed away, and they were able to enjoy their dessert without any talk of church, Texas, or the book of Matthew.
Twelve
CHORD
Always count on the gay guy to scare away all closed-minded Christians within a five mile radius. Chord enthusiastically joined in the dessert banter at the dinner table, without making it known that his insides were still boiling. Brielle’s words throbbed like a headache in his cranium.
I just don’t come across them often seeing as how I spend most of my time at church.
If she’d cared to know, he could have told her that he’d attended church nearly every Sunday of his life. He could tell her he had a battered copy of the Bible sitting beside his bed in his stateroom right now; that he believed in the same God she did. But she’d just heard “that” word. Gay. And there had been no going back.
Why was it that some viewed gay people as only that? Just gay. Not doctors, or lawyers, or teachers, or students, or good Samaritans. They were just gay people. Luckily, he now lived in a city where that was no longer an issue. It almost made him forget there were still people out there whose minds remained locked securely closed—with the guise of attempting to keep out the sin.
Gray cut into his reverie. “Is the soufflé not any good, Chord?”
He must have let his cheerful mask slip momentarily.
“It’s too good.” Chord readjusted his cheerful mask. “I was just thinking about how many calories I’m sure I’ve consumed today, and how many more I will probably consume on the top deck tonight. I’m gonna have to loosen my belt a few notches by the time I get home.”
“That’s the real reason Brielle left,” Aurora interjected. “To escape the extra calories of dessert.”
Chord could already tell he liked Aurora best. Gray was a close second, simply because he was so damn beautiful. Those dark curls and killer eyes were too much to handle. But, judging by the way Gray looked at Aurora...he was definitely straight.
After the dessert plates had been cleared and Juniper had wished them all a happy evening, the five diners stood to leave. Chord was reluctant to part from the others; they were his only acquaintances on this ship, and he typically preferred not being alone.
Apparently, Samuel didn’t feel the same reluctance, because he said a quick goodnight before walking briskly out the door. Gray, Aurora, and Sev still stood awkwardly behind their chairs. Chord noticed another surreptitious glance between Gray and Aurora. He wondered if the two of them had already been friends—or perhaps, more than friends—before boarding Etheria. If this were the case, then they would probably want to be alone to stare at one another. Which left just him and Sev—who, so far, seemed the complete opposite of loquacious. In fact, he appeared to be in his own little world ninety-seven percent of the time.
But, to Chord’s relief, Gray spoke up. “We should all do something.”
“Let’s see if this ship has some alcoholic beverages,” Chord suggested eagerly.
Alcohol. Old reliable.
The four of them left the restaurant in search of a club or bar. Chord could tell the others were merely humoring him. They clearly weren’t drinkers. Well, he could teach them a thing or two.
He’d started drinking in the eighth grade. The day his best friend, Tanner, read his personal journal while he was out of the room. Conflicted words filled the pages with numerous entries about Tanner, and how Chord wanted to hold his hand, to kiss him, to be with him. He wrote about how he prayed every day for God to make him feel differently. To fix him. If being gay was a sin, why would God make him this way? Because Chord sure as hell did not ask to feel like this.
The day Tanner emerged from Chord’s room holding the journal in his hand, blood drained from Chord’s face.
“What the hell is this?” Tanner had demanded, brandishing the book like it was a dangerous weapon. “Why the fuck are you writing about me in here? You’re a fucking faggot!”
Chord had tried to protest, to say it was just a joke he was playing on him, but Tanner didn’t buy it—not for a second. Tanner had stormed out of his house, taking Chord’s journal with him.
And that’s when things started to go dark for Chord.
Tanner brought the journal to school the next day where he and the rest of the football team made copies of the pages and pasted them all over the hallways. Chord went home that afternoon with two black eyes, a busted lip, and a hardened heart. He quickly disco
vered that drowning his feelings with booze from his father’s alcohol cabinet was the best remedy.
He convinced his parents to transfer him to a new school, where he went through his “goth” phase. The tight pants he was not a fan of, but he did have a fondness for the black eyeliner. It accentuated his eyes.
His new high school was a tad bit more open-minded, and he soon acquired his first boyfriend. There were three other gay boys in his school. One was severely overweight, one had more bumps on his face than a gravel road, and the other was Jared.
Jared wasn't exactly his type. Skinny, red-haired, and pale. Chord had always been into the tall, dark, and handsome guys. But Jared had been the most decent looking one of the other three gays, so he settled to have some kind of dating experience in high school.
College was better. Chord moved to San Francisco and was finally able to be comfortable in his skin. He discovered his passion when he took an undergrad Cinematography class. And a love for film wasn't all he found. Here, he met Jonathan—otherwise known as Professor Harper. Jonathan was only nine years older than him, but it was still against the rules. This only made it more tantalizing. Like eating cake on a diet.
They would go at it in his office in the middle of the day. Or the bathroom. Or in the classroom. One time they were nearly caught by a student. Jonathan had been in the process of buckling his belt when the girl walked in. Luckily, she’d been texting and hadn’t noticed.
Chord swore he was in love with Jonathan. That he would marry this man. But it had turned out to be nothing more than a sexual game to Jonathan. When Chord moved to UCLA for graduate school, Jonathan grew more than just physically distant. Chord went out of his way to visit, making the drive from LA to San Francisco, weekly. They would still have their little rendezvous in his office, but that was it. No more late-night talks. No more secretively holding hands. No more tenderness. Just raw, emotionless sex. Chord cried many times on the drive back home, because he knew what they had—or what he’d thought they had—was slipping away.
Then the day came when Jonathan found a new student to please him. One with less emotional attachment. One who was just in it for the sex too. When Chord came to San Francisco one weekend to visit, Jonathan ended things, telling Chord he no longer needed him, that it would be best if he stopped calling, stopped visiting, and got out of his life.
Chord drove to the Golden Gate Bridge that night. He approached the edge, tears coursing down his face, and gazed into the dark waters below.
He could jump. He could end the pain. He could end it all.
But something stopped him. Some force within him kept him from climbing the rail. Something made him shuffle back to his car and drive home…where he found a silver envelope waiting for him.
Three days later, he was on a plane to Alaska.
Thirteen
SAMUEL
Samuel rode the hidden elevator down to the bottommost floor of Etheria, a floor inaccessible to the Halos. At the end of the passageway was a golden door, which Samuel opened, revealing a grand room filled with others like him.
Powers.
Eating and drinking and waiting. Upon entering, Samuel watched Michael approach a raised dais in the center of the great room. Hushed silence settled over the others, and Samuel took a seat beside Caspia, who shot him a stern look for nearly being late.
“Tomorrow, beneath the Angel Lights, there will be a mandatory meeting in Starlight Stadium where I will address the entirety of the Power Halos and inform them of their purpose. So as not to cause a complete uproar, I advise each of you to tell the Halos in your charge precisely what they are at dinner. I will present their ultimate decision afterward. That is all. May the Light be with you.”
Short and sweet, like most angel meetings were. No need for ramblings and inconsequential details when you were in close contact with the all-knowing Light.
Samuel left the room without a word and went over the names of the Halos in his charge.
Sevastion Blackwood.
Chord Ellington.
Brielle Stone.
Grayson Cross.
Aurora Coel.
This was their last night of blissful ignorance.
He hoped they took full advantage of it.
Fourteen
AURORA
Aurora had to stop herself from making a depraved comment as Chord downed yet another glass of Jameson and Coke. After several glasses, his cheeks had turned red, and his eyes were beginning to glaze over. Talk of dinosaurs and fossils kept Sev and Gray occupied on Aurora’s other side.
“I’d be on the floor after just two of those,” Aurora said to Chord, stirring her Bloody Mary with the little olive-strung plastic sword.
His dazed eyes cut over to her, as if just realizing she was there.
“It takes a lot more than this to get me on the floor,” he said, before letting out a barking laugh. “That sounded kind of dirty.”
Aurora guffawed. “Yeah, I was about to guess what it takes to get you onto the floor, but then I figured we don’t know each other well enough for me to be showing my true colors.”
“Show them!” Chord exclaimed. “I’ve shown mine—Brielle, too. Though, her colors are shit brown mixed with mustard yellow.”
“She’s just an ignorant hick,” Aurora said. “Don’t listen to anything she says.”
“Glad you agree. Isn’t she your roommate?”
Aurora made a disgusted face before nodding. “Unfortunately, yes, she is. I thought college was the last time I’d have to suffer through undesirable roommates.” Chord offered her a sympathetic look, and Aurora continued, “Oh well. I just go to my room to shower and sleep anyway. Is Samuel your roommate?”
Chord shrugged. “If he is, he hasn’t been to our room. Haven’t seen another suitcase, or anything either.”
“Do you think he’s a bit…strange?” Aurora asked, trying not to sound too suspicious.
“Stranger than dino-boy over there?” Chord muttered under his breath, nodding towards Sev. “He’s like a walking textbook. A British textbook.”
Glancing over her shoulder, she saw Sev drawing a diagram of sorts on a napkin.
“Guess you’re right,” Aurora admitted, turning back to Chord. Though, Sev was just strange because he was brilliant. Samuel was strange in a different way. A way that made her think he was hiding something. But she refrained from voicing this. Clearly, she was the only one who’d noticed.
Chord stood, downing the remaining liquid in his glass. “Shall we go explore a bit?”
Even after several drinks, he was still steady on his feet. This was either impressive, or sad. Aurora couldn’t decide which.
As Aurora and Chord vacated their seats, Gray swiveled around in his. “Leaving without us?”
“That depends...” said Chord. “Will you two continue to harp on about dinosaurs and fossils for the remainder of the evening?”
Sev frowned and looked at the ground. Aurora wondered if that was all he knew how to talk about. “It’s okay,” she said, quickly. “As long as you don’t talk about your Chihuahua named Princess.”
Chord laughed a little too loudly at this. “Agreed.”
They left the bar and began their exploration by traveling down the stairwell.
“Floor sixty-nine seems like a good place to start. Don’t you think, Sev?” said Chord, smiling wryly at a clueless Sevastion.
“I suppose…” the Brit answered with a raised eyebrow.
Aurora and Gray exchanged an amused glance at this.
The stairwell let out at a doorless passageway decorated with murals of waves and stars and ships, resembling Etheria. Chord led the way with Aurora and Gray behind him. Sev brought up the rear, examining the walls with the same curious look he’d had in Glimmering Grotto, as if he were an art student in the Louvre.
There were times when Aurora swore the eyes of the angels on the wall followed them as they passed, but surely it was just a trick of the light, like the Mona Lisa. Or
, at least, she thought she’d heard something like that in one of her art history classes.
The passageway opened up into yet another rotunda, like the one with the elevators. Only, instead of elevators, there was a series of doors spaced evenly about the circular room. Unlike the elevators, each door was a different shape, color, and texture. Some had glass doorknobs, others had silver handles. Gray approached a black door with a white spiral in the middle and a cubic doorknob.
He reached out a hand and hesitated.
“Well? Open it,” Aurora urged.
He did. Right before he disappeared into blackness.
Aurora cursed under her breath as she rushed forward, Chord and Sev on her heels, and peered over the threshold into the thick darkness, unable to see anything. Taking a literal leap of faith, she took a step…and fell.
Slowing in mid-air—like Alice falling through the rabbit hole—Aurora landed softly on a bed of crimson rose petals. Looking ahead, she could make out a short passageway and a fork leading off in two directions. Aurora stood and walked to the end of the passage, looking left and then right. The walls were black and white, like a checkerboard, and more red rose petals covered the floor. But no sign of Gray. Why had he not waited for them? Inexplicable worry tightened her stomach.
Chord and Sev appeared behind her.
“The more of this ship I see, the more certain I am that it’s actually a circus,” Chord said, stumbling a little, the alcohol he’d consumed earlier in the evening revealing itself. “What is this? A maze? Where’s Gray?”
“No clue.” Aurora bit anxiously at her nail. “He just disappeared.”
“I’m sure he’s okay.” Chord waved a dismissive hand. “We can split up and look for him. Just meet back here in twenty.”
Easier said than done. They were in a maze, after all, and mazes were designed to become lost in. Aurora was soon turning circles, attempting not to panic. The black and white walls were making her dizzy, so she watched her feet shuffle, about to give up when her eyes fixed on the rose petals scattered on the ground like some grand romantic gesture. Some of them were crushed in places, meaning someone had been this way before her. Following the trail of trodden petals, she soon heard quick, shallow breathing up ahead.
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