S. L. Naeole - Grace Series Book 3 Black Halo

Black Halo

By: S. L. Naeole

Black Halo

(c) 2010 by S.L. Naeole

All rights reserved.

Published by Crystal Quill Publishing

All of the situations and characters in this novel are fictional. Any similarities to actual people or situations are completely coincidental and wholly unintentional.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

S.L. Naeole

Visit my website at www.slnaeole.com

Visit the official website for Falling From Grace at www.graceseries.com

Falling From Grace (Book One in the Grace Series)

Bird Song (Book Two in the Grace Series)

For my missies.

" For the heart whose woes are legion

'Tis a peaceful, soothing region-

For the spirit that walks in shadow

'Tis- oh, 'tis an Eldorado!

But the traveller, travelling through it,

May not- dare not openly view it!

Never its mysteries are exposed

To the weak human eye unclosed;

So wills its King, who hath forbid

The uplifting of the fringed lid;

And thus the sad Soul that here passes

Beholds it but through darkened glasses.

By a route obscure and lonely,

Haunted by ill angels only,

Where an Eidolon, named NIGHT,

On a black throne reigns upright,

I have wandered home but newly

From this ultimate dim Thule. "

Dreamland - Edgar Alan Poe

The fire in my chest raged, the need for air fighting against my need to keep running, to not stop until the darkness was behind me. The sounds around me were mocking, jeering at the pains that shot through my arms and legs. Their sinister laughter, which echoed behind me hinted at the promise of something dark and evil that I had knowingly invited, and now ran from.

The trees, under the cover of their starless canopy began to move and sway with glee at the activity that swirled around them. I cried out as my foot wedged itself in the small hollow of a curious root, and I tumbled to the ground, the sound of snapping bone and tearing flesh silencing the sounds around me.

Quiet had never sounded so deadly.

The beginning of the final chapter of senior year usually starts off with incredible excitement--there are only three months left before graduation, then college and the rest of your life. But the sentiment around my house couldn't have been any gloomier.

Getting up for that first day back felt like the hardest thing I'd ever had to do--probably because I hadn't even gone to sleep yet. I looked at the clock on my dresser and pulled the covers back over my face, not wanting to admit that it was six in the morning. I hadn't been sleeping well--or at all-- these past few days, each night spent tossing and turning until I finally gave up and stared holes into my ceiling until it was time to quit pretending.

A loud knock on my door was followed by a rough shaking of the bed as my best friend--and now my housemate--Graham Hasselbeck jumped in beside me.

"Holy cow, your feet are cold!" I shouted, quickly squirming away from him until I ran out of bed space and fell with a resounding "oomph" onto the carpeted floor. "Why are you in here so early? And with glaciers for toes?"

"Because I heard your alarm go off. And it's cold downstairs; I think the heater's busted. Hey, did you know it snowed last night?"

I crawled to the window and stood on my knees to peer over the sill. Indeed, the street and the houses across it were covered in a nice blanket of pure, white snow. "That's weird--it hasn't snowed after spring since we were ten."

"I know. I remember that. You slipped on the sidewalk and sprained your ankle while walking to the bus. I had to carry you back inside and then I slipped coming back out. We spent the next two days watching old movies and eating stale popcorn downstairs."

"And the RHPS tradition was born," I laughed before turning around. "Hey, get out of my bed!"

"I told you, it's cold downstairs!" he cried as he pulled my comforter up to his chin defiantly. "I'm staying here until you make breakfast, so if you want me out, you're gonna to have to get cracking."

"Oh, I'll crack something alright," I replied and launched myself onto the bed. I laughed as he tried to cover his head with the blanket. "That never worked as kids and it certainly won't work now!"

We wrestled on the bed, each vying for control, before tumbling off and landing sharply onto the floor in peals of laughter.

"I'm glad the two of you seem to be enjoying yourselves."

I peeked from between the mess of my hair, while Graham pulled back the comforter from his face to see my dad standing in the doorway, a suitcase in one hand, a white box in the other.

"Uh...hi, Dad," I managed to get out while Graham stuttered an incoherent reply.

"Mr. Shelley-Grace-morning-yes-hi."

Dad laughed and shook his head. "It's okay, Graham. I'm not dumb enough to think that you and Grace were up to no-good."

"Why are you home so early, Dad?" I asked. "And where's Janice?"

Dad walked over to me and handed me the box before pointing to the suitcase. "She's in the car--she's having contractions and the doctor says that it's too early, so we're here to drop off this bag and pick up the hospital one before heading off there."

I handed the white box to Graham who opened it and hooted at the contents. "Donuts! Thanks, Mr. S!"

"Well, I'm coming, too," I announced.

Dad shook his head vigorously. "No. You're going to school. We don't know what's going on yet so there's no need for you to miss out on any classes. If anything does come up, I'll call, alright?"

I nodded reluctantly and stood up to give him a hug. "You tell Janice that I'm thinking about her, okay?"

"Of course," he replied, returning my hug. "Have you been eating okay? You seem...thinner."

I nodded with slight agitation and eased away from dad. "I'm fine, Dad."

"Well, I know you left the wedding feeling sick--how are you feeling, by the way? How's Robert?"

I shrugged my shoulders and looked away, unable to answer him.

"She's been stuck in bed mostly, Mr. S, and Robert's been busy at work, so she hasn't seen much of him lately," Graham said hastily. I mouthed the words "thank you" to him and then turned to nod my head in agreement.

"Well, I guess that's better than I expected--I admit that there were a few moments that I was afraid I'd come in and find you and Robert in here...alone. It's nice to see that I can trust you to behave yourself, Grace," Dad said, patting my shoulder with a slight bit of reservation.

"Okay, kiddo, I'm going to get that bag now. Go-to-school! And don't let Robert take you to school on that motorcycle of his in this snow!"

I nodded my head and watched him walk out of my room. As soon as I heard his bedroom door open, I sank to the floor.

"I can't get out of it, can I?"

"Gedowduvwot?" a muffled voice asked behind me.

I turned my head to see Graham shoveling the back end of a glazed donut into his mouth. "Never mind," I told him and reached for the box. "You ate them all?!" I shouted, looking at Graham's gluttonous face in shock. "Ugh!"

"Wot?" He quickly swallowed the hastily chewed donut and wiped his mouth on the corner of my comforter. "You know better than to stick food in my hands. Besides, I told you to make breakfast--you snooze, you lose, woman."

I snatched my comforter from his hands, glared at the sugar-stained corner with disgust, and fought back the urge to punch him in his donut-filled gut. "You know what? I changed my mind. I don't want you to talk to Lark anymore--there's nothing in this world that she could have done to deserve you for a boyfriend."