“What are you,” she whispered to the imposter.
The thing that resembled Luna chuckled. “Lo. It’s me. Really.”
The whisper of hope filled Logan to the brim, choking her. “How…” she managed. “How is this possible? You’re dead.”
“Have you learned nothing since you’ve been surrounded by angels, twin?” Luna sat up too, so they were facing each other, sitting cross-legged like they had so many times throughout their life. “Death isn’t the end, you know. I’m training to be a Guardian now. But, when I saw how bad you were handling things, I asked to take a break. You’ll find the angels are pretty understanding.”
Logan felt her mouth slowly falling open. She shut it, swallowing. “Can I touch you?” she breathed.
Luna’s head dipped in ascent as she held out a slender hand identical to Logan’s own. With trembling fingers, Logan reached forward until their palms pressed against each other. To an outsider, it would look like she was touching a mirror—a mirror that changed her hair color from blonde to black and blue.
“You’re really here?” Logan’s eyes filled with the tears she’d been repressing since the night her sister died. “Really?”
“Really.” Luna pulled her sister’s hand down, folding their fingers together. “I just wanted to make sure you were going to be okay.”
“How can I be okay, Luna?” Logan's voice was uncharacteristically unsteady. “How can I be all right when you left me alone here. Because of Aurora and Gray.” Acidity soaked her words.
A wistful smile tugged at Luna's lips. “I don’t regret it. I don’t regret climbing that building. I don’t regret trying to save them. I loved Gray. I still do. Death didn’t change that. But I see things clearer now. And I see the damage I almost did when I made that deal with the Darkness. Jealousy was eating my heart. Burning it like poison. Who knows what else I might have done if I would have lived. You know what love does to me, Lo. You know how it makes me act…”
Memories of her sister’s past relationships filled Logan’s brain. Luna had always been a passionate lover. Not in regard to sex, or anything like that. But, when she loved, she was all in. And that usually scared the men away pretty quickly. And, if the man Luna loved moved on with someone else, she went crazy. Logan always managed to pull her back from it. Once she wasn’t sure if she would be able to. But, somehow, she did. With Gray, though, it seemed to be on another level. Him being Aurora’s Stellar hadn’t helped things.
“I just miss you so much,” Logan said after a moment. “I hadn’t realized how much I leaned on you until you were gone. I thought I was the strong one.”
“You are the strong one, Lo. You’re just grieving. That’s not weakness. That’s human.”
“Well, I wish I was less human,” Logan muttered, looking down at their clasped hands.
“Just know that I’m okay. Know you’ll see me soon. I promise. Be strong, twin. I know you already are. Just…believe it.”
The hand in Logan’s started to feel less solid like it was turning to smoke. Her eyes snapped up to see her sister’s form becoming translucent. “Wait. Don’t leave—”
“Love you, Lo.”
A final squeeze of pressure on Logan’s hand…and then Luna was gone.
Again.
BRIELLE
Danni Jo’s group made Brielle feel better. They made her laugh and reminded her that she wasn’t the only one dealing with grief. But, at the end of the night, after she’d said goodbye to her newfound friends, she had to go back to an empty apartment and an empty bed. It made everything feel bigger. And not in a good way.
Sleep eluded her as she tossed and turned and forced her eyes shut as she burrowed under the covers. Eventually, her mind turned off enough to allow her to doze fitfully. At one point, she must have fallen into a deep enough sleep to dream. Or maybe it was a nightmare.
Brielle dreamt of Logan's warmth beside her, pressing against her back, arm sliding softly around her. The dream was so real she could practically smell her scent of makeup and leather.
“I’m sorry, Bri.”
With a start, Brielle’s eyes fluttered open. Logan’s arm was still around her. Their bodies were still in a deconstructed yin and yang. She hadn’t been dreaming. Logan was actually there. Brielle didn’t move. Her breath caught and stayed in her lungs.
“I’ve been a bitch,” Logan continued. “A major bitch. I’m so sorry.”
“Am I supposed to just pretend you never treated me like you did?” Brielle whispered.
“No, you shouldn’t do that… You should yell at me. Cuss at me. Tell me I’ve been a horrible, wretched piece of shit.”
Brielle would be lying if she said she hadn’t thought of calling her a few of those names tonight. But now, with Logan’s warm body crushed against her, all the anger she’d felt was already melting away. Like she was an ice sculpture, and Logan was fire.
Brielle rolled slowly over until Logan’s face was inches from hers. Her steely blue eyes were naked, and her hair was tied messily on top of her head. But she still looked beautiful.
“I don’t want to say any of those things,” she admitted. “I just want to kiss you.”
Logan’s eyes swelled fractionally at this, but the corners of her lips turned up, and Brielle rolled forward.
This time, she took charge of everything. Before, Logan was a bit more of the dominator. Always taking control of the kiss, caging Brielle beneath her. But, now, she didn’t fight when Brielle swung her legs over Logan, running her hands from the mattress to Logan's chest, lingering there a moment before moving up to her face, controlling every movement.
Their breathing grew heavy, and an unconscious confidence lay over Brielle like a shawl as her steadfast hands tugged at the thin shirt Logan wore, pulling it over her head to reveal her bare breasts. They’d never gotten this far before, and part of Brielle wanted to stop and ask for directions. But the other part knew exactly what to do.
Then her dressing gown came off too.
They switched back and forth between giving and receiving pleasure in the form of fingers and tongues and slippery mouths. Their cries and gasps were stifled by pillows and sheets.
Afterward, they lay tangled together, bare legs and arms hooked around each other. Logan rested her head on Brielle’s chest, which moved up and down rapidly at first before it steadily slowed.
“You know there isn’t anything between Danni Jo and me, right?” Brielle breathed into the thick air.
Logan actually laughed at this, pressing her lips to Brielle’s collarbone. “I know… You’re too straight for that.”
Seventeen
CHORD
A wall of Beasts drove deliberately inward as if he and Sev were stuck in one of those booby-traps in a carnival fun house.
“Run!” Chord shouted, clutching hold of Sev’s hand, hauling him back down the street towards the water.
Thundering feet could be heard behind them, much closer than Chord was comfortable with. This wasn’t okay. Why had they come here? What had they been thinking?
Dammit, Sev. Stupid idea. Horrible. Terrible idea.
“Where in the hell did they all come from?” Chord shouted.
Sev didn’t answer, but pulled Chord with him into a narrow alley, ducking behind a dumpster that stank of rotting meat. It had likely been filled with food from the restaurant behind them just before the city had been locked. No trash men awake to collect.
“Why are we hiding?” Chord whispered harshly. “We need to get back to the—”
“They were gaining on us too quickly. They would’ve followed us onto the boat.”
“But how are we—”
Sev shushed him by slapping a hand over his mouth. The horde of Beasts was now thundering down the road beside the alley. Chord felt like his heart might explode out of his chest from sheer terror. He wondered how on earth he’d been chosen to become a Halo. He was such a little pussy sometimes.
The Beasts seemed to go on forever li
ke a never-ending geyser had been opened and was just spewing filth for all of eternity. But, finally—after Chord had lost the sensation in his legs from squatting uncomfortably on the grimy ground—the foul creatures started to trickle down. Then they were nowhere to be seen.
“Where do you think they are now?” Chord whispered, preparing for Sev’s hand on his mouth and readying himself to bite.
But Sev only shook his head. “I’m not quite sure.” He rose slowly, peering over the dumpster, which had likely masked their smell rather thoroughly. It was about to make him hurl. Sev waved a hand. “Come on. We need to find a way back to the boat without being spotted.”
Chord followed Sev to the mouth of the alley. “Aren’t we going to capture one? Wasn’t that the whole point of coming here?”
“Of course. But neither of us anticipated the remarkable quantity of Beasts we would encounter. We need a more thorough plan. We need to observe them a bit longer. From the boat.”
Chord started to speak again, but Sev said, “Shh,” while waving a hand at him to follow.
He may have been in love with the British bastard, but if Sev shushed him one more time, he would receive a well-aimed kick to the ass.
The Beasts had now dispersed, evidently having forgotten about the two Halo intruders. The ugly creatures roamed around Pike Market aimlessly, as if they were looking for something, but weren’t sure what. Like an elderly person with dementia.
Sev led them on a darting quest to duck behind a series of tall objects—a car, another reeking dumpster, a pole, an overturned truck, a statue in the shape of a pig. Sev pointed to a nearby staircase, but as they moved to leave the pork-shaped-sanctuary, Chord tripped over a stinking fish carcass. Whirling around, Sev fixed Chord with a wide-eyed glower.
For a moment, he thought they may be in the clear. But then a Beast with red hair and a stitched mouth stumbled out of the shadows of the fish stand.
The two Halos unsheathed their cruxes and swords. Sev got to the creature first, slicing his head off in one swift motion.
Perversely, this little episode caused a bit of commotion, triggering the Beasts to come tearing their way. No more dodging behind pig statues. Chord and Sev were going to have to make a run for it.
And run for it they did.
Weapons at the ready, Chord and Sev dashed down the staircase leading to the lower level of the Market, towards the docks where Lady Lionheart sat waiting for them like a dark haven.
The dispersed Beasts were swiftly closing in on them, pulling back together like droplets of oil converging into one massive clot. Chord sliced through one of the female Beasts, coating his sword in bright red blood, reminding him of why they had come in the first place.
Beasts were humans.
True, they were infected with demon blood, but they were still mostly humans who likely once had good hearts. Like a family dog who had somehow contracted rabies. But, as with the dog, when they are charging at you with intent to kill…sometimes you have to shoot their ass.
Sev and Chord reached the dock just as a group of twenty or so Beasts closed in on them, a mere three feet of distance separating them. Chord could practically feel their stinking hot breath on the back of his neck.
The two of them leaped on Lady Lionheart like a pair of gazelles. The angel boat seemed to know its passengers were in danger and slid back several feet as they tumbled onto the deck.
The line of Beasts slammed to a stop, but not in enough time for a handful of them, which crashed forward into the salt water. Chord usually had a difficult time feeling sorry for the haunted creatures—mostly because they were, you know, trying to kill them. But the cries of misery arising from the Beasts who’d fallen into the water were almost enough to make him want to jump in and pull the things to safety.
They writhed and cried and howled with pain in the salt-water, which seemed to be burning them. It reminded Chord of why he hated to cook shellfish.
One time, when he was a young child, his mother told him about the lobster dinner they were going to have to celebrate his father’s promotion. Chord had never had lobster at this point in his life, but his mom was making such a huge deal about it, that he thought it must be better than cake or something.
He’d been surprised when she came home with three of the massive red creatures. They were still alive and moving, and he swore their weird, protuberant eyes were looking at him. She let him hold one, which he did, thankful their massive pincers had been sealed shut with rubber bands.
“But they’re still alive,” he remembered saying. “How are we going to cook them?”
“You put them in the boiling water,” his mom had explained matter-of-factly.
“Alive?”
“Yes.”
“Doesn’t it hurt them?”
His mother had paused at this question a moment, shaking her head as she cut the potatoes that were going to accompany the still-alive dinner. “They’re just lobsters, Chord. Go wash your hands.”
He watched from around the corner as his mom opened the massive pot of boiling water and placed each of the creatures inside. He remembered feeling kind of sick, his eyes wide and staring. He wondered if lobsters could feel pain. And, if they could, he wondered how long it took for them to die in the boiling water. If they could scream, would the pot have been filled with the cries of the crustaceans?
Sitting at the dinner table that night, he stared down at the bright-red lobster on his plate. He ate all of his mashed potatoes and broccoli, but he didn’t eat the dead creature.
“Aren’t you going to eat your lobster?” his mother had prodded him.
He shook his head. “I’m not hungry.”
“Do you know how expensive that was?” his father had asked. “Just try it.”
Chord pulled off a piece of the white meat, thinking of the creature he’d picked up only an hour earlier. He thought of its moving legs and staring eyes. Then he threw up all over his plate, chunks of vomit covering the lobster.
Now, Chord stared down in horror at the Beasts. Sev was talking to him, but he wasn’t registering the words. Blinking several times, Chord tried to focus in on Sev.
“What?”
“I asked if you were all right,” Sev repeated. “You look pale.”
“Yeah… I’m fine.” He realized the Beasts had gone silent now, floating like diseased buoys in the water. “I was just thinking.”
“About what?”
“Lobsters.”
Sev’s heavy brow arched before he disappeared into the boat, returning with a long pole with a noose-like cord at the end of it.
“What in the hell is that?” Chord asked.
“A catch pole. I saw it in the weapons room.”
Chord looked warily over at the instrument. “And what are you doing with it now?”
Sev’s mouth turned up into a mischievous grin. “Going fishing.”
Eighteen
AURORA
By the next morning, Aurora felt lucky to have woken up at all, given that several times throughout the night, she was convinced she would freeze to death. She could have easily gotten up and ventured back into Gray’s room. Any time they pressed their bodies together, the heat intensified.
But she hadn’t. Because that bastard almost slept with Lilith. The succubus of the underworld.
Yes, the evil mistress had looked exactly like Aurora, but this was no excuse. Gray should have felt the difference. She knew she would have. It wasn’t every day a Stellar had the privilege of coming in contact with their other half. It was a sensation Aurora struggled to put into words. Suffice it to say…Gray should’ve known Lilith wasn’t her.
But Aurora was skilled in the art of feigning aloofness. So, she took a hot shower, the drops of steaming water feeling like needle pricks on her frozen skin. Then she got dressed in her Halo armor and fur coat gifted to her by none other than her corrupt impersonator. The bitch.
Aurora emerged from her room, glancing at Gray’s closed door. This di
dn’t necessarily mean anything, of course. She wanted to hesitate by it, to listen for his breathing, to make sure he was okay. But she didn’t. Because she was still pissed. Instead, she made her way down the crystal corridor, descending the icy stairs draped with a silver carpet, and entered the dining room.
Gray was there, sandwiched at the table between Lilith and Lucifer. His hazel eyes locked onto Aurora's instantly. She could sense the tension in them, the guilt. Good. He should feel guilty.
“Aurora,” Lucifer said pleasantly. “Do please join us. Breakfast has not yet been served. You are just in time.”
Dipping her head in a curt nod, Aurora moved to sit in the seat beside Michael, across from Gray and Lilith. Their closeness at the table did not escape her notice. But she pretended it did.
“Pass the jam, please,” Aurora spoke to the table.
Lucifer waved his hand, and the jar of wine-colored gelatin slid seemingly of its own accord to rest in Aurora’s open hand. Pretending this didn't surprise her, she reached for a fluffy, southern-style biscuit, slathering it in butter and what smelled like blackberry jam.
Sinking her teeth into the bread, she kept her gaze trained on the wall behind Gray and Lilith. There was a painting hung there. A portrait of a young man with black hair and eyes to match. He looked familiar.
“Did you sleep well, darling?”
Aurora’s eyes slid slowly down until they locked on Lilith’s unnatural lavender irises. Swallowing her food, Aurora reached slowly forward to the full cup of milky tea beside her plate, draining it down her throat. “Very much so,” she answered in a low voice. “How about you?”
Lilith’s mouth curled up in a malicious sneer. “Oh, I have no need for sleep. Too many things to tend to.”
“I’ll bet.”
Gray cleared his throat and shifted restlessly in his chair. Lilith looked positively entertained by his discomfort.
The beautiful demon servants chose this moment to carry in trays filled with a myriad of breakfast delicacies. Porridge, eggs, toast, muesli, pancakes, bagels, lox, meats of all sorts, roasted tomatoes, and a variety of other things Aurora did not associate with breakfast.
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