Broken Wings (An Angel Eyes Novel)
Page 25
Hot tears sting my eyes, but I force them open.
The demons attack. All four of them, slicing away at Canaan. At his wings. He’s fast, so fast, and his skill with a sword is staggering. For a moment I think he has the situation under control, that he and Jake are fine, but then a fifth demon joins the fray. Canaan manages to dispatch three of the Fallen before another slices open his inner wings.
I scream, and Helene dives toward them.
Toward Jake tumbling to the ground.
And then I see him.
Damien.
He’s flying at Jake. Fast and precise, his untainted eyes guiding him through the battle. I scream again and again. Helene flies hard, but Damien gets there first. With razor-sharp talons he snatches Jake from the air. I catch just a glimpse of his white eyes before they disappear into a mass of Fallen warriors.
I don’t think I’ll ever stop screaming.
42
Brielle
There’s a new nightmare now. I’m looking through my mom’s eyes. I know they’re her eyes because I’m sick and dying, but Virtue is there. He’s holding me tight, his wings singing, his chest warm. My eyes are closed, but I think we’re flying. I feel the wind on my face, pressing against us. I wonder where we’re going, but I haven’t the energy to ask.
And then Virtue sets us down, and I open my eyes. The building around us crumbles, flames licking the walls, charring them, turning them black. The smoke makes me gag, my legs weak from the disease ravaging it. But at my feet is a woman, dead already. Her nurse’s scrubs are stained with smoke, her left side burnt.
Mom groans at the sight. She knows her. I know her.
“One more thing,” Virtue says. “One more thing before you go.”
And then I hear a voice crying, panicked. It screams and screams.
“Mother! Mama! Where are you? Please, Mom, please!”
I recognize the voice. More than that, my mom recognizes it. With energy she doesn’t possess, she runs out the open door and into the hall. It’s full of smoke, classrooms on either side. Ten-year-old Olivia runs down the hall, limping, injured. She opens one door after another, screaming for her mom.
My heart breaks at her agony, but she shouldn’t see this. She needn’t see her mother burnt and dead. Seeing won’t change a thing. So I run—Mom runs—down the hall. She grabs Olivia by the hand, spinning her toward the exit.
“Hannah?” Olivia asks, tears streaking the smoke on her face. “What are you doing here? Where’s my mom?”
Mom doesn’t answer. There’s not enough energy for that, just enough to pull the screaming, flailing girl through a corner classroom and shove her out an emergency exit door.
The door swings shut, closing Olivia out. Hannah slams her fist against the knob, locking it, keeping the girl from the flames that killed her mother. And then she stumbles to the center of the room, sucking raspy breaths of smoke-saturated air.
Virtue steps through the flames and takes her hand. He rubs his wings together, releasing wave after wave of worship.
“You could have done that,” Mom says, swaying on dying legs. “You could have saved her. Why bring me here?”
“Because you asked. You wanted to be useful to the Father, Hannah, and you have been. Your saving her now will pave the way for your daughter to save her later. And one day Olivia will need saving.”
The idea is confusing, but there’s peace in it for Mom. Peace that her last minutes have made a difference. They’re the last words she hears—the last words I hear before Mom takes one last breath. Before Virtue wraps her in his arms and spreads his wings wide, shattering the classroom windows and lifting her into the heavens.
43
Brielle
Miss Macy arrived a half hour ago. She spent two minutes talking to Dad and twenty minutes cleaning the kitchen. When I couldn’t watch her scrub another dish, I left her there and retreated to the orchard.
To the red orchard.
The battle continues to rage overhead, but the Sabres have kept Maka and the Palatine from taking Stratus. Their song has all but torn the veil, and the orchard is brighter than ever. Helene is never far, tells me the Army of Light has arrived. She says they’ll surround the Palatine, engage them on multiple fronts.
The Fallen will take me if they can—I know that—but I’m as safe in the orchard as I am inside.
I sink to the ground amidst the rotting fruit and weeds. The Sabres’ song surrounds me. It’s as loud as ever, but not everyone can hear it, it seems. Miss Macy can’t, but Dad and I can. I think it’s the only reason I was able to find sleep last night. As it turns out, my cell was under the couch. I press and hold the number five, my hand trembling to keep the phone in place.
But it doesn’t matter. Jake’s phone goes straight to voice mail.
I leave a message telling him to call me. I try not to cry while I’m talking, but there’s no stopping the tears once they start. And they haven’t really stopped since yesterday. I tell Jake I’m not mad. That I don’t care about the ring. That it’s not important. A life together isn’t even the most important thing, I tell him. It’s his soul. Whole, untarnished, uncorrupted. That’s the important thing.
I hang up, but I don’t release the phone. Jake might call. Or Canaan even. He followed Damien into the distance and never returned. I don’t know how long he’ll follow the demon, but I pray he’ll follow him to the ends of the earth. That he’ll bring Jake back safe.
And if he can’t do that, I pray that I’ll have a chance to see Jake again.
If not on this side of heaven, then on the other.
Like my mom and Ali.
With my phone still in my hand, I pull the envelope of pictures from my back pocket. The pictures Dad had developed the other day. I find strange comfort in them, the envelope already worn because I’ve opened and closed it so often.
They’re pictures of Mom. Of Mom and Olivia, actually. It seems their encounter at the hospital wasn’t their last. As a girl, Olivia visited Mom at the hospital. I imagine she came when her mother was working. There are a few pictures of the three of them. There are even some of Mom and Dad. Of Miss Macy. Of Pastor Noah and Becky. I need to talk to them. They can tell me about Stratus all those years ago. About the miracles and the healings.
I slide the top picture to the back and find my favorite of the bunch. Mom’s reading to me—Dr. Seuss, by the looks of it—and we’re on her hospital bed. I’m wearing the flowered necklace. Olivia’s necklace. I can only guess she gave it to Mom, and Mom gave it to me. How it ended up in her grave is anyone’s guess, but I’m sure Dad had something to do with it.
He had to bury something, after all.
I’m still not sure what Mom was doing in a Portland hospital, but it’s something else I’ll ask Dad later. For now, I’m done asking questions. The answers don’t satisfy, and they won’t help me fight.
And if I’m ever going to get Jake back, I need to fight.
I tuck the pictures away, closing the envelope again. And then I stand as the tendrils of sound and light surround me. I breathe them in and let the music take me. I let myself dance.
I may not have the confidence to sing my redemption song, but I can wield it anyway. My arms and legs can fight even when I don’t have the courage to move my mouth. The orchard doesn’t provide the easiest dance floor, but my heart doesn’t care. The Sabres sing somewhere beyond the veil. Their voices sing of an almighty, all-knowing God, and I let my body join them. I let myself believe that He knows best, even though it hurts. Even though everything I love has been taken.
I’m broken, but here in the red orchard, surrounded by the sweet smell of worship, I raise my hands above my head, and I believe.
Reading Group Guide
Spoiler alert!
Don’t read before completing the novel.
1. After the chaos of her senior year, Brielle is anxious about what to do after high school. Can you relate to that? Do you have post-graduation plans?
; 2. Both Brielle and Jake struggle with believing that God’s plan is best. Do you believe that? Have you ever faced a situation where God’s plan seemed less than desirable? What did you do?
3. Kaylee really blossoms in this book. She sticks by Brielle even when things get rough. Do you have a friend like that? Are you a friend like that?
4. Brielle learns that there are ways to fight evil: prayer, worship, Scripture. Are you quick to recognize a spiritual attack? Do you know how to fight?
5. It seems the Throne Room is choosing to communicate with Brielle through her dreams. Do you think God uses dreams to talk to us? Do you have an example to share?
6. Brielle is a crier and she knows it. How do you respond to heartbreak? Do you get angry? Do you withdraw? Are you prone to tears like Brielle?
7. Marco’s response to the halo is very different than Brielle’s. Why do you think that is?
8. In the Celestial, worship is seen as smoke or incense, ribbons of color. What do you think worship looks like to God? What do you think it smells like?
9. One of the hardest things for Brielle to cope with is the fact that Jake lied to her. Do you find it difficult to forgive when you’re lied to? What does the Bible say about forgiving others?
10. This series is full of imaginative descriptions of angels. What do you think angels look like? How are they described in Scripture?
11. The halo has given Brielle the ability to see the Celestial. It’s given Jake the ability to heal. And thus far, it’s given Marco horrible memories. If the halo was given to you, what gift do you think you’d receive? Is there a gift you’d prefer—or despise?
12. When Brielle uncovers the truth about her mother’s death, it makes her question everything. Have you had a moment like that—a moment that shakes the very foundation of your world? How did you react? What advice would you give a friend walking through a similar situation?
Acknowledgments
There are so many amazing people who deserve my thanks. Friends and family who’ve invested in my stories and my journey. Your support means more than I could ever say. Please know I’m grateful.
I would like to give a huge shout-out to my church family at Living Way. You watched my kids, you covered my Sunday school classes, and you let me ditch when the deadlines got scary. You’ve also provided me with an amazing place to worship, something that shows up all over these novels. Without you, they wouldn’t be what they are. Every time we gather together, I get to be surrounded by the incense of worship and I never leave unchanged. So, thank you. Your love and prayers mean the world.
Thanks to Becky and Jodi, to Katie and Ruthie, to Daisy and the rest of the team at Thomas Nelson Fiction. Your commitment to my work is staggering. I’m blessed to be working alongside you.
To my agent, Holly, and all the writers on Team Root, you rock. Your friendship keeps me sane and your stories remind me that words really can change the world.
I would also like to thank my husband, Matt. By the time this book hits shelves, we’ll be finishing our tenth year of marriage. In every way, you’ve been my partner and my friend. And you’re hot. So, I’m blessed. SHMILY.
And to my kids. Thank you, Justus, for letting me share my love of story with you. One of these days I really will let you read these books. And Jazlyn, thank you for doodling on all my index cards. You keep my days delightful and interesting. I love you both to infinity and beyond.
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About the Author
Shannon Dittemore is the author of the Angel Eyes Trilogy and has an overactive imagination and a passion for truth. Her lifelong journey to combine the two is responsible for a stint at Portland Bible College, performances with local theater companies, and a focus on youth and young adult ministry. When she isn’t writing, she spends her days with her husband, Matt, chasing their two children around their home in Northern California.