But I’ve got to act now. The counter is just in front of us, and beyond it a room swallowed in darkness. Who knows what I’m walking into?
I throw myself to the left, losing a hunk of hair in the process. I actually think my scalp is bleeding, but adrenaline keeps me moving. There’s a table and four chairs between us now, but I don’t look back. There’s a side door here, an emergency exit sign glowing above it. Looks like a wheelchair ramp on the other side. I hear Damien yell, I hear Kaylee scream louder.
I think she’s cheering me on.
But my feet tangle in something and I fall toward the door, my palms smacking the bar and propelling the door open. The cold night air, thick with salt, rushes inside, making room for me out there. If only I were standing on my feet! I clamber as fast as I can, trying to get upright, but my lip is bleeding, my chin scraped, and for a moment all I see is stars.
Behind me, something akin to war is breaking out. Kaylee’s not just yelling, she’s screaming like a feral cat. I hear open hands colliding with flesh, again and again. The demon curses and Kaylee yells. I turn for her, but she waves me away.
“Get out of here, Elle. Go!”
And then she’s screaming again. I want to go back for her. I have coincidenceowp0 to go back for her.
“Brielle! Get out of here!”
Agony tears through my chest at the thought of leaving her behind, but if I go back now everything will be so much worse. If I can get free of this building, maybe, just maybe, he’ll let Kaylee go and come after me. Maybe she can work magic with that phone of hers and find help.
So many maybes, but I crawl out the door and roll off the handicap ramp. The fall is farther than I thought, and when I land, it’s like the air is vacuumed from my lungs. Still, I keep moving. I stand, grass and mud on my face, dampening my knees. The fog is thicker now than it was before, but a blast of light strikes me in the face. And then it’s gone. Through the trees, I see the lighthouse silhouetted against the foggy night. In a move that is probably more symbolic than wise, I run toward it.
And then I hear wings overhead. If I can hear him, experience says I can see him, but I don’t look. I just duck my head and run faster.
“Please, God. Please, please, please.”
In front of me, out from the fog, emerges a wooden bridge built to fill in a gap left by sliding rocks. It’s old, the wood peeling, trees invading it. Blood runs down my neck and chest. I spit it from my mouth, but still I run toward the light. The blinking, spinning, very alive, very real light.
And then his voice crawls inside my head.
“What will you do when you get there, girl? What will you do when you get to the light?”
The world around me threatens to ice over. The trees, the road, the railings on the bridge, they all take on a glazed look. I blink and blink and try to will his words away, because he’s right. There’s nothing beyond the bridge. Just rocks that fall away into the sea. Just a cliff. Just ocean.
How far down is it? Do I know? Is that a piece of information I have locked away in my memory somewhere? Maybe, but as my feet pound against the bridge, I can’t recall it. I stumble, his words making my feet slip. I press on, straightening up and refusing to fall.
I can’t fall now.
Because I finally know what I have to do.
On my right an outer building passes by and then another, both of them as white as the dove on Canaan’s wall. The fog encases them, turning the small buildings into tissue-wrapped gifts, but I fly by, my eyes on the swanlike neck of the lighthouse. And then I’m below it, its thick trunk a phantom reaching into the heavens.
Damien’s still talking.
“Where are you going? What are you doing?” He asks the same things over and over again, a hint of amusement in his voice.
He’s toying with me, but that’s okay. It buys us time. And that’s what I need to give Kaylee. Time.
12
Brielle
My eyes are wide open when Damien tucks his wings and falls into a dive. Crushed against his frame, I shiver uncontrollably, but my celestial vision is clear and concise. It doesn’t come in pieces. It’s complete and as reliable as it ever was with the halo.
Below us, the keeper’s house is swathed in the red flames of violence. The flames throb against the night sky, ominous and chilling, but they beat out a healthy rhythm and I take solace in that. Wherever Kaylee is, whatever she’s doing, she’s still alive.
But there are far too many flames flickering below to account only for the wounds Damien inflicted on Kaylee and me. It’s the first sign I’ve had that there are multiple people inside the building. Is Kaylee one of them?
Is Jake?
My stomach is already in my mouth when we tumble across the sky and through the roof. My glimpse of the bakery is brief, but I see no sign of Kay. And though only to be replaced by s through, I’m wrapped in the tar of fear, both mine and the demon’s, I find that hope again—the hope that’s been buried deep beneath the fear. It surfaces.
As long as one of us is free to call for help, we still have a chance.
Damien twists hard and fast, past the counter and into the kitchen beyond. And then he opens his black wings and we stop. It’s abrupt, painful. The wind is knocked from my chest again as his inner wings tighten around my body. I struggle for breath as we descend. Through the floor, it seems.
There’s a basement?
Of course there’s a basement.
I refuse to close my eyes as we fall through the floor. The celestial light burns, but I let them water. I don’t even blink. Instead, I press my face against Damien’s transparent inner wings. Looking. Waiting. Hoping.
When the basement comes into view, my heart falters. The violence, most of it at least, originated here. The room is painted red with it. Splashed on the walls, coating the floors, the flames pounding out several different cadences. The first thing I see within the flames is Olivia. Her back is to us; scars, thick and puckered, have bubbled up on her calves. Scars that weren’t there before—not at the lake.
It’s unsettling to see what must always have been just beyond the reach of my terrestrial eyes. Would I have seen them before if I’d dared try? I don’t know. And that terrifies me. Shames me. I should have tried to see her. To really see her.
But there’s much to terrify in this room. Beyond Olivia, I see the boys. My boys. Jake and Marco sit back-to-back, their hands and legs strapped to chairs. Jake’s hands wrap Marco’s wrists and I swell with pride. Even broken, his hands can heal. Even stolen, he seeks the lost.
Unceremoniously, Damien opens his inner wings and I’m shoved to the floor. He materializes behind me, his terrestrial hand twisting again in my hair, yanking me to my feet. My scalp is already tender, and despite my intention to be brave, I cry out.
More demonic laughter.
And then a wave of confusion crashes over me. I’m no longer wrapped in his wings, but my celestial vision remains entirely intact. In another place, in a peaceful room, this might be inspiring, but here, with crimson stains of violence surrounding me, the hues spinning and glowing, I try to blink away the Celestial, baffled by its totality. Two more quick blinks and I realize I’m not the only one confused. Olivia spins at my sloppy entrance, and Marco curses in surprise.
I want to explain. Tell them I’m here to save the day, but Damien kicks the legs I’ve locked in defiance and my knees buckle, my face inches from Jake’s.
“Your girlfriend’s here,” Damien says.
I don’t know how many seconds pass, but in all of them I let my eyes devour Jake. First I sweep them over his body, looking for injury, lo&4-
Dark Halo (An Angel Eyes Novel) Page 9