Free Dark Halo (An Angel Eyes Novel) by Shannon Dittemore Page A

know. Delia makes sure I know.”
    “I was going to say amazing , but now my mouth is full.”
    She beams, her chest out, her eyes sparkling. “You’re more than welcome. You just have to promise to tell me if you see any more of those demon guys, okay? And if Damien comes back, I fully expect you to throw yourself between the two of us all dramatic-like. Really show off that superhero vision you’ve got there, okay?”
    “Okay,” I say, a smile undoing me.
    Kaylee looks around the living room for the first time. Sun streams through the windows, lighting the furnishings. A pair of Jake’s dirty socks are still on the floor. His work schedule sits on the coffee table.
    I’m scared for him. So scared it hurts.
    “Now, where are we setting up camp?”
    “Canaan’s room,” I say, blinking back tears.
    Kaylee gestures grandly. “After you.”
    I have half an Oreo stuck in my teeth, so before we head down the hall I fill two glasses with milk and hand one to Kaylee.
    “So, this is Canaan’s chest?” she asks, stepping into his room. “I mean, obviously it’s not his chest, chest, but it’s his chest? And what does it do exactly?”
    She’s been here for four minutes and I already have milk shooting out my nose. I wipe it away and try to explain. “This is how the Throne Room communicates with Canaan. It’s where he gets his assignments from.”
    “Like you,” she says. “You’re an assignment?”
    I nod.
    “And this is where your engagement ring just appeared. All magical and stuff.”
    “It’s not magic, Kay.” But I really, really don’t want to talkabout the ring right now. It’s gone anyway. There’s not much more to say about it.
    “Well, it’s nifty.” She tilts her head, staring at the chest. The lid’s still on. I don’t have the heart to open it and show her the dagger. That’s another thing I’d like to avoid for the night. “I kind of want to climb inside. You think I’d fit?”
    “Let’s not find out, okay?”
    “You’re the boss.” Kaylee busies herself with all sorts of sleepover rituals. I do my best to pray silently, and I monitor the chest every few minutes, opening the lid just wide enough for me to see inside. But so far there’s been nothing.
    “We need music,” Kaylee says, rummaging through her bag. “You pick: Justin or Taylor?”
    “Taylor,” I say.
    “You said Justin, right? I heard Justin.” She leaves, heading for Jake’s massive stereo in the living room.
    I sneak another peek inside the chest. There’s nothing new, just the dagger and a chill that latches onto me before I can stop it.
    “I’m starved. What do you want for dinner?” Kaylee hollers over the music.
    “Whatever,” I say. “You want help?”
    “Nah. Get to praying. Canaan’s got a microwave. I’ll be all right.”
    Rubbing my bare arms, I step out of Canaan’s room and into Jake’s. I’m not cold, not really. But getting lost in a sweatshirt sounds nice, and anything in Canaan’s room would swallow me. Gingerly I make my way through the chaos on Jake’s floor until I’m standing in front of the closet. I pilfer through it, finally settling on a navy blue hoodie with a gigantic pocket in the front. The seams are frayed and the drawstring is missing, but it smells like Jake.
    I wander back to Canaan’s room and crawl onto the bed. I draw my legs up under the sweatshirt and wrap my arms around my knees. Canaan’s window looks out across the highway. Somewhere the sun is setting—I can’t see it directly, but the sky is a bruise of darkest purple. Pink and orange striations ripple through it. It’s beautiful, but I close my eyes on it all, on the beauty and everything hiding beneath it.
    I pray. Silently, of course. The words are more eloquent that way. No stumbling over them, no shame when I can’t get them just right. In my head I’m very articulate. I pray for Jake. For Canaan and Helene. I pray that Jake will walk through the door and that this nightmare will be