Dark Halo (An Angel Eyes Novel) (27 page)
After another moment Olivia&heD1A hands the journal back to Ali.
“You’re good.” She straightens up, a fake smile painted on her face.
I’m dying for Ali to look down at the journal, to give me a glimpse of what seems to have both of these very strong, very brave women shaken. But Ali’s fidgety, and when she finally does drop her eyes, it’s only for the briefest moment. Still, it’s enough. I’ve seen this page before. It’s the sketch of Olivia’s arm. Manicured fingers loosely curled, the lines Javan cut into her forearm visible.
“I’m sorry,” Ali says, folding the journal closed. “I sketch when I’m nervous.”
“You’re very talented,” Olivia says, but as she moves back around her desk, she unbuttons the sleeve that’s been rolled to her elbow and shakes it out. She stands with her back to Ali now, her curvy figure silhouetted by the gray horizon.
Embarrassed, Ali leans forward over the closed journal. “I really am sorry. I didn’t mean to invade a private thing. I’ve just never seen scars like that before.”
“I don’t imagine you have,” Olivia says, unbuttoning the other sleeve, shaking it out. The chinks in her armor hidden, she turns, her face stern. “Be grateful.”
Her tone is sharp, final. But Ali needs this information. I can feel it in the stiffness of her neck, in the taut muscles of her legs. She’s desperate. “Ms. Holt . . .”
“I’ll see what I can find, Miss Beni, but there may not be anything left to pilfer through. The files from Madison and Kline were destroyed years ago.”
“Destroyed?”
“Water damage. You can thank whatever deity you believe in for that. But if there’s anything to be found”—she pauses here, squares her shoulders—“I’ll find it. I’ll promise you that much. Leave your number with my assistant.”
She’s been dismissed, but it’s not like Ali to bend to that sort of thing, so I’m not surprised when she speaks again.
“I’ve read up on you, you know. You’ve done some impressive things with Ingenui. Noble things.”
“Hard work pays the bills,” Olivia says, crossing her arms.
Ali stands and tucks her journal under her arm. “I don’t fault you for Henry’s errors,” she says. “I don’t think anyone else would either, even if you are his granddaughter.”
Olivia hardens, her red nails digging into her biceps. “Most people aren’t aware of that small detail, Miss Beni.”
“I assumed,” Ali says, the bite in her tone surprising me. “It wasn’t easy to track&ed theowpD; your lineage; some of the records are missing.”
It’s weird what happens then. The playing field seems to level. A begrudging respect slightly visible in the lift of Olivia’s brows. “State employees.” She shrugs. “What do you expect?”
Ali nods. “Right. But your father was Henry’s son.”
“Illegitimate son.”
Anger runs through Ali’s body. I feel every shiver of it. “I hate that word,” she says, running a hand across her stomach. “Sother than beep
E
verything𠆞 planned for
O
livia must’ve found Ali’s medical history. Or at least told her she had.”
I’m sitting cross-legged on a bench outside of Jelly’s. Kaylee’s here, sitting on the curb in front of me while I braid her hair.
“And you think Ali drove out to Bellwether to meet Liv?” she asks.
“Yeah. Or intended to. I don’t have proof they actually met.”
There’s a demon skittering back and forth down Main Street. He’s blind and snuffling, his nose pressed to the street. This morning there were two on my front porch lapping at the fear that had gathered there. A half hour ago I saw a gaggle of them in the alley between the community center and the stores fronting Main.
I’m just glad Kaylee can’t see them. I refuse to shatter the illusion for her. I can’t believe how well she’s handling everything, but she’s been forced into seeing too much, and I haven’t the heart to tell her just how common the demonic seems to be around town today.
I turn my attention back to her, intent on ignoring the
scavenger. We’ve been talking about last night’s dream, about the pieces we now have to assimilate into the puzzle. Jake had to work today. He offered to call in, but his boss’s wife’s sister is Mrs. Sadler, the twins’ mom. The family is rallying around the girls, as they should be, and it didn’t seem right for Jake to beg off when Phil was needed elsewhere. The downside of living in a small town is that eventually everything affects everybody.
I spent the morning calling the parents of all our students at Miss Macy’s. She sent word through Dad that she wanted classes canceled for the week. I tried to argue that I could handle it, but with Dad as her emissary I was shot down. So I sat through each phone call, fear leaking through the phone, soaking my clothes, and I updated every single family. Told them we’d try to resume classes next week, and then I gave them the most recent news on each of the girls, which aside from Sharon’s&20te invisible release hasn’t really changed since yesterday.
It was a long morning.
And now I find myself here, with Kay, trying to remember what it felt like to not know, to not see. It’s early afternoon and the sun shines bright. I’m wearing the halo on my wrist, but I can’t seem to shake the chills that crawl up my arms and down my back. I braid faster—anything to keep moving.
“Ow!” Kaylee rubs at a spot behind her ear. “That one’s attached, Matthews.”
“Sorry,” I say, swatting her hand away. “I’ll be careful. How’s Marco doing?”
“I don’t know. Sometimes he’s okay. He smiles every now and then, but he’s always thinking. Delia has him ensconced in the spare bedroom. The one with all the doilies, you know? He’s been in there for the last couple of days.”
I haven’t seen Marco since Bellwether. Haven’t talked to him since he grabbed Jake’s bag and left Stratus with Olivia. “Is he . . . Has he asked a lot of questions?”
“About the demon that dragged you and Jake away? Yeah,” she says. “And I kinda let stuff about Canaan’s chest slip, so I had to explain that, but mostly he’s just quiet. Even quieter after Jake stopped by.”
“Jake stopped by?”
“You were sleeping off Danakil.”
“Huh.” I finish the braid, pull the hair tie off my wrist and secure it. Fiddling with the tail, Kaylee climbs up on the bench next to me.
“I need to tell you something,” she says, folding her legs and then changing her mind and tucking them beneath her.
I don’t answer. She looks all squirmy, and I feel my emotions start to shut down. It’s like they refuse to get involved in whatever Kay’s about to divulge. I just don’t know how much more I can take.
“When we left Bellwether the other night, Marco asked to make a stop. A detour, he said.”
I think about Marco’s frame of mind, about his anger. Jake didn’t tell me much about Bellwether, but he did tell me Marco seems to be struggling with dreams and visions of some sort. That the halo seemed to magnify them.
“And you let him?”
She nods. “Before I agreed, I did make him promise not to kill Henry. Thought you’d appreciate that.”
“I do. Thank you.” I sit a little taller, cross my arms. “Where’d you go, Kay?”
“Fred Meyer,” she says.
Well, that was anticlimactic. “The grocery store?”
“Yeah.”
My arms loosen. “And this is scary because . . .”
“I don’t know!” She’s so dramatic all of a sudden, so flustered. “It’s just . . . He bought a Bible, Elle.”
I’m clearly missing something. “And you’re disappointed?”
“Maybe. No, not disappointed. I just don’t know what to make of it all.”
“Because of a Bible? You’re not at all weirded out by my Bible, and you actually made s’mores while I sat in the other room praying the other day.”
“That’s different.”
“I love you, Kay, I do. And you’ve been amazing through all this craziness. I’m just not seeing how Marco with a Bible is any different from me with a Bible. Or Jake, for that matter.”
“You guys are sane,” she says. “Are we totally, 100 percent sure Marco’s okay?”
“Kay . . .”
“Look, he just spent months locked away in a psych hospital, right? He totally freaked out about the whole halo thing. And now he’s holed up in the doily room with a Bible and Ali’s journal.”
“You said he smiles every now and then,” I remind her.
“Yeah, he does. But I wonder if these demons have really messed with his head. He only comes out of that room to pee and eat, Elle. Or to ask me questions I have to make up answers to. It’s weird hiding away from people like that. It’s very Branch Davidian, you know? Very David Koresh.”
I laugh. “If there’s anyone Marco isn’t, it’s David Koresh. Not everyone is as social as you. Some of us need solitude to process.”
“Well, that’s just sad,” she says. “I worry about him. He
and Liv had a tragic sort of moment at Bellwether. A moment wherein—”
My lips twist. “You just said ‘wherein.’”
“And you just used air quotes. Stop interrupting. It was a moment
wherein
Olivia claimed she’d never met Ali. And given the dream you just had, I worry that Marco knows she’s lying to him. Being sad is okay. Depressed, I can deal with. But locking yourself away? That’s too scary for me. I like him, you know. He’s a nice guy. A good guy. He should be performing onstage, or writing uber self-aware screenplays. Not shut up with the doilies.”
Kaylee’s concerns, while extreme, aren’t entirely unwarranted. Marco stop fighting.”
“Jake gets off at eight. We’ll stop by after that and check on him, okay?”
“Thank you,” Kay says, unwinding a bit. “Maybe Jake can do his Miyagi hand thing or something.”
“Miyagi hand thing?”
“You know,
The
Karate
Kid
. The original. Mr. Miyagi slams his hands together, rubs real fast, makes them all warm and stuff.”
This is why I love Kay. The laughter she rouses just by existing.
“You know that’s not how his gift works, right? He can’t fix whatever’s broken in Marco’s head.”
“He could try,” she mumbles.
“And his hands are always warm. He doesn’t need to Miyagi them.”
She taps her cheek. “I remember. But, yeah, you should stop by.”
“You working this afternoon?” I ask.
“Yeah, but it’s been pretty dead around here.” She swivels on
the bench, peers through the diner windows behind us. “I could use a sick day if you want.”
“You can use a sick day when you live with your boss?”
“Me not destroying the diner isn’t that big a loss to Delia. She encourages my use of sick days.”
It feels almost normal sitting here with Kay. If I could only get rid of the chill. And then, of course, there are the demons. The Vulture has been joined by two others now, all of them snorting and gurgling, bumping their way back and forth down the street. But other than that . . .
“Nah. That’s okay,” I say. “You’re saving for the Peace Corps.”
“If they ever get back to me,” she says. “Here, you sit. I’ll braid yours now.”
I scoot off the bench and onto the pavement. I like it when Kay braids my hair. She’s much more creative than I am.
“Have you decided what you’ll be doing come fall?” She doesn’t mention school or the scholarship Dad wants me to take. But I know she’s thinking about it.
“I don’t know,” I say, enjoying the scalp massage Kay’s thrown in. “Dad made me send off all the paperwork, so if I want to go, I can go. I have my dorm assignment and everything, but I haven’t decided.”
“You’ve had a lot going on, Elle. And Jake’s here. I can understand not wanting to leave.”
“It’s not that,” I say. “I mean, maybe that’s part of it, but every time I think about going away, I feel . . . it feels wrong. It’s like there’s something else I should be doing. I just have no idea what that thing is.”
“Then give yourself some time to figure it out,” she says, releasing my head, digging through her bag. “No one would fault you for taking a semester off.”
“Except maybe Dad.”
“Dad shmad. He’ll come around.” She drags a brush through my hair. I close my eyes. Let myself enjoy it.
“It’s just, if I go—okay, if I go, if I take this dance scholarship, dance is the only thing I’ll have time for.” I have no idea what she’s doing now, dividing my hair, wrapping tiny bands in place.
“Isn’t that what you wanted?” she asks. “To be onstage, dancing in front of thousands.”
“It was. For a long time, it was.”
“But?” She’s tugging on my hair now, braiding maybe, looping. Whatever it is, it feels nice.
“But I see what you’ve done at the community center, how you’ve pulled so many people together. You’ve made a difference around here, Kay.”
“But art’s important too. Dance is important. It’s like . . . telling a story. And Elle, you’re so good at it. I wish you could see yourself.”
“And I love it. I really do, but do I want it to be my life? My whole life? I don’t know anymore. I think of Jake. I think of Canaan. Everything he does is to help others.”
