Broken Wings (An Angel Eyes Novel)(45)

But relief is short-lived. We're flying fast and low through the trees, my eyes trained on the spot I've just left. On Jake. Just beyond the orchard, there is a flurry of activity. I see Sabre wings flashing. I hear music droning from them, smell the fragrance of worship as they fight. I see darkness as the Fallen close in. And then Canaan dips into the orchard, shaking a demon off as he does. With his inner wings he pulls Jake to his chest, and I watch as they fly skyward. Four demons abandon the Sabre they're fighting for an easier target. A smaller angel, slowed by a charge, and carrying only one sword.

They fly at Canaan.

I cry out, but it's nothing save unintelligible hysterics, and there's too much noise. Too many demons screaming like animals, too many Sabres singing violently. Blade rings loud against blade, demons dissolve with hissing sputters into the Celestial around them.

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?