Shattering Halos Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Praise for Sunniva Dee

  Acknowledgements

  Chapter 1 -- The Accident

  Chapter 2 — Just Me

  Chapter 3 — School

  Chapter 4 — Control

  Chapter 5 — Too Far

  Chapter 6 — Mine

  Chapter 7 — Truth

  Chapter 8 — Damage Control

  Chapter 9 — Caught

  Chapter 10 — Angel Oaks

  Chapter 11 — Sense

  Chapter 12 — Aftermath

  Chapter 13 — Shades Run

  Chapter 14 — Cut The Dazzling

  Chapter 15 — They’ll Forget

  Chapter 16 — Death

  Chapter 17 — “Baby”

  Chapter 18 — Seize the Day

  Chapter 19 — Come Along

  Chapter 20 — Run-In

  Chapter 21 — Mobilization

  Chapter 22 — Timanfaya

  Chapter 23 — Fear

  Chapter 24 — Christmas

  Chapter 25 — Lilith

  Chapter 26 — Heart

  Chapter 27 — Galdhopiggen

  Chapter 28 — Glittertind

  Chapter 29 — Bait

  Chapter 30 — Preparations

  Chapter 31 — Magma

  Chapter 32 — The Show

  Chapter 33 — Pivot

  Chapter 34 — Winged

  Chapter 35 — Dream

  Other Books You Might Enjoy

  Thank you for purchasing this publication of The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

  Shattering Halos

  by

  Sunniva Dee

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  Shattering Halos

  COPYRIGHT © 2014 by Sunniva Dee

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  Contact Information: [email protected]

  Cover Art by Diana Carlile

  The Wild Rose Press, Inc.

  PO Box 708

  Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708

  Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com

  Publishing History

  First New Adult Faery Rose Edition, 2014

  Print ISBN 978-1-62830-300-1

  Digital ISBN 978-1-62830-301-8

  Published in the United States of America

  Praise for Sunniva Dee

  “Amazing! Sunniva Dee has blurred the lines between new adult and paranormal romance in such a captivating way that SHATTERING HALOS will leave the reader begging for more.”

  ~Cheryl McIntyre, author

  Acknowledgements

  So many have helped me shape this story. I’m listing the tip of the iceberg and praying I didn’t forget someone I’ll need to appease with free dinners.

  First, thank you to my family: Alexandra, my first reader, who made me believe this story deserved to be more than a hobby; Nicolas, who always listens and encourages me; Michael, my rock and my own Protector, who believes in me. I love you all so much!

  Thank you to my critique partners: Leigh Teale, “the firstest and the bestest,” for your never-failing logic and honest feedback; Virginia Pierce, for laughing in the right places and wholeheartedly enjoying the steamy scenes; Samantha Pien, for the international twist all the way from South Africa. You cracked me up with statements like “s**t, girl, that’s some damn good writing,” and “I really hope ‘animal style’ is a way to prepare her burger”; Debra Ann Mastick, for your sense of humor and special take on vocabulary and content; Laura Carlson from American Editing Services, for your deep critique and incredible editing, the best editor anyone could have. What you demanded of me shaped this novel into something The Wild Rose Press wanted; DeAnne Negley, for loving Shattering Halos and straightening my mind—my words—as the deadlines narrowed in on me.

  Blogger Holly Baker from the incomparable Holly’s Hotreads. Thank you for your love right when I needed it! Your contagious enthusiasm after an early ARC made my day—my week—my month!

  And utter love to my beta readers for your keen observations. Dominique Elliott, Casey Ford, Alexandra Lyngstad, Dawn McIntyre, Renee McMillan, and Marilyn Sobwick: You’ve all left your marks on this fairytale.

  Thank you to my talented author friends for taking the time to read Shattering Halos. Cheryl McIntyre, your novels are on my top shelf of New Adult books. I’m honored and humbled that you read and loved mine. Your support and guidance meant, and still means, the world. Laura Thalassa, here’s my book, finally out to play with yours!

  Lastly, thank you to Amanda Barnett and Rhonda Penders, who picked this story out of the Wild Rose Press slush pile; to my thorough and prompt editor Claudia Fallon, who polished it into a gem to be proud of; to R.J. Morris, who hooked me up with Diana Carlile. Diana, you created a cover that surpassed my highest hopes. I’m so fortunate!

  Did I say thank you?

  Chapter 1 — The Accident

  Gaia

  I’d been in the ditch for a while. Since the night blurred into silvers and reds and the minutes froze. Ever since Chris’ eyes widened next to me from behind the steering wheel.

  Face down in the dirt, I couldn’t see the car wreck anymore. Footfalls slapped the ground, growing louder. Then the shouts reached me.

  “Shush,” I whispered, dazed.

  The flames I’d crawled away from didn’t faze me, but I wondered why I was outside of them. Now, I was cold and alone.

  A slight movement at the corner of my eye revealed him sitting in the grass next to me, cross-legged. So serene, so beautiful, so still.

  He owned the silence the way they should. I felt like laughing, but the sound didn’t come out so I stared instead.

  He was barefoot, and his hair passed his shoulders in tumbles of gold. Well-worn jeans clutched his hips, and a white shirt flowed ghostlike to his waist. With head tilted and chin resting in his hands, he gazed at me curiously.

  Does he have all the time in the world? I wondered.

  The light he exuded was different from the shocking blue of the ambulances. Glimmering irises met mine, and the pain rushed in. Jolt after jolt of it sped up my spine. I broke away and pressed my eyes shut.

  The screams from behind closed in on me, hammering against my inferno. By the time the frantic people grabbed me, I was writhing and moaning.

  I barely noticed how they strapped me down. These men, they tried to help, but by now my mind was shutting down.

  The stranger was there, watching me lose control, and I’d never forget the quiet smile spreading across his lips.

  ****

  Cassiel

  No, no, no. This isn’t happening.

  I crossed my arms and glared at my brother. At the moment, he was lounging peacefully in the ditch with a girl who should’ve been toast.

  “Why’s she still alive? Take her out, man! You know you can’t get away with this.” Seriously. Way to go altering destinies.

  Gabriel didn’t even flinch at my words, probably due to his madcap interest in drinking her in, lovesick-puppy style.

  “Okay, you’re beaming at her. Will you snap out of it?”

  And why was I assuming the role of my brother’s conscience again? I didn’t have one myself!

  Frustrated, I slapped my forehead instead of breaking out the traditional groan-and-growl combo. Didn’t he rea
lize the dark forces he was stirring the soil off of with his actions?

  The female shivered, her hair a tangled mess around her face. By the time she twisted her head and their eyes met, I’d had my fill of premonitions.

  Funny how I still stooped to new lows, though. “Hey, thanks for turning me into a goddamn commentator here. You caught that she’s seeing you, right?” I whined.

  When he paid zero attention to me, I lost my patience.

  “All righty, then.” I clapped my hands and rubbed them together. “Have fun with the cleanup! Oh, and by the way: you’re plunging us face first into some hilarious times. Thanks, bro.”

  I shot the female a last glance; Gaia was it? Apparently, she’d acquired a new hobby—crumbling my perfect existence. My hatred for her already smoldered with the cozy warmth of a bonfire.

  Chapter 2 — Just Me

  Gaia

  The blur accompanied me to the hospital like an old friend. Shadows played behind my eyelids.

  Their murmurs remained distant as I drifted in and out of consciousness, but in the end my father’s rumble broke through the haze of unconsciousness.

  “Selene, you do understand how surreal this is, right?”

  “Dad, she survived. That’s all that matters,” my sister Luna shot in before my mother could reply.

  “Please, let it go, Edwin.” Mom’s voice sounded tired.

  “It’s remarkable! You know how grateful I am, but this makes no sense. Our Gaia was the sole person who escaped, and she did it by getting launched through a side window—in a head-on collision!”

  “I can’t take this anymore, Edwin.”

  My dad had splintered Mom’s patience with his one-track accountant brain. Now, only her sobs interrupted the silence. When she spoke up again, her words summoned an image I couldn’t stand. “How can we tell her they’re all gone?”

  “One teeny side window saved Gaia’s life…”

  “Dad,” Luna moaned, but Mom sliced through and cut him off.

  “Well, guess what? My miracle girl’s alive. We’re never questioning it again, and that’s that.”

  Her billboard-sized signals finally made it to my father, who instantly calmed her down with decades of experience. “Yes, of course, love. We’ll be bringing her home any day now. Everything’s going to be okay.”

  ****

  At first, exhaustion kept reality at bay in the hospital, but soon the truth invaded me. Fresh grief, new and strong, filled me and carried me back to the car, to where I should have stayed with them.

  Oh, my friends!

  Taylor. Bright, sunny Taylor. Silly Ash, the clown of our little group. Dreamy, creative Brandon, always with a smile on his face. Dear Lord, my best friend Chris. How many batches of sweet rolls had he ruined over the years under the misconception he’d been helping? In the heartbeat Chris wasted on sending a text, my childhood friends shrunk to a bouquet of precious moments.

  Those moments. We seized and squandered them. Then fate erased all of their futures.

  Just me. Just me. Just me.

  My family’s chatter left me aching whenever it pierced through my awareness. Incarcerated by an impassive body, I focused on the nothingness.

  After a while, my parents didn’t hover day and night anymore. I’d been hospitalized for too long, and my condition was stable. With the air free of their voices and the news they brought, I breathed easier.

  The first time my eyes slid open, the moon glittered through a crack in the curtains. Fine grains of dust quivered in the light. A sigh drew my attention, and there he was. The stranger from the accident sat Indian-style on the windowsill, lost in the night outside. The moonlight bathed him in milky beams.

  My heart jumped once and then paused; the recollection of our gazes locking by the wreck cut like a knife. What an unbearable pain! Was it his gaze that hurt?

  I watched him turn and knew I should pull away before he caught me awake. I rushed to commit every perfect detail of him to memory. My stomach burned, warning me even as I took in the most beautiful face I’d ever seen.

  Just a quick glimpse of his eyes too!

  How did they become such a light sky blue? And was it the reflection of the moon that made them shine? I squeezed my eyes shut before the agony of that night returned.

  I lay in silence until slumber hauled me in. For the first time since the accident, I felt peace.

  The sunrise woke me, and I remembered right away. I peeked between my lashes, scouring the room for him. The stranger was still there, perched like a shimmering bird on a visitor’s chair by the bed. He hummed, at ease without knowing me, or ever having introduced himself.

  Frowning, I took in the insanity of him in daylight. After all these hours, he didn’t seem sleepy or bored, and I watched him pucker his beyond-belief lips as if preparing to whistle.

  Was he a product of my mind? I wanted to reach out and touch him—find out if he was solid. As if in response to my thoughts, the humming stopped. He rotated, and I closed my eyes before he noticed me awake.

  The haze of the coma had retreated, and I was regaining muscle control. Renewed vigor trickled back in, which seemed to nurture my imagination. My thoughts swirled and fantasized, insisting that this stranger had energized me.

  In spite of the fascination I had with him, I wanted to open my eyes, pick up the pieces of my existence. I longed to reclaim life, but I couldn’t because his company held me hostage.

  A knock on the door announced the arrival of the nurses.

  “Good morning, Gaia,” the one named Rose sang out. “How did you sleep?” She didn’t wait for an answer, and I realized I’d heard her say that before.

  “So much dust. Doesn’t the new cleaning lady do the windowsills?” The younger-sounding nurse was grumbling from over by the window. Briefly, I considered how the dust could have remained in place with him sitting there.

  “Not sure, Maria. Hasn’t she been out sick for a couple of days?”

  Instead of exchanging pleasantries with my “guest” as I’d expected, they kept murmuring between themselves. Water splashed in a basin.

  “Time for your bath, Gaia!” Rose spoke in the high-pitched voice reserved for house pets and babies, so I knew the words were for me before I heard my name.

  No, no. Time to panic!

  My eyes shot open. I swept the room, my breath catching as I detected him perching on a different chair on the opposite side. A golden knee protruded from a hole in his jeans. Did he not have other clothes? Those bright irises oozed of an innocence I didn’t buy. I lifted a weak arm and pointed.

  “Wait. Make him leave first.”

  Like in an old, silent film, his movements fast-forwarded several frames. Without warning, he stood so close that the sleeve of his shirt skimmed my arm.

  His gaze pinned mine, and I couldn’t break away. I stared back, a chemical reaction taking place in me as I plunged further and further into his gaze.

  What an eerie magnetism. I liked guys as much as the next girl, but holy moly. What was this—“obsession at first sight?” I, Gaia Samuelle, was doing a nosedive…heart first! A gasp escaped me, and his eyebrows arched in astonishment.

  My transformation was already complete. Everything in me begged to get closer, much closer to him. At the moment I could have killed to yank this boy to me, find his lips, and never freaking let go.

  “Did you hear, Maria? Our girl’s awake!”

  Crap, Earth calling.

  “Gracias a Dios,” Maria said sweetly as the two of them hurried to my bedside.

  “Goodness, everybody’ll be over the moon! Let’s get you presentable and pass on the happy news. Can you buzz doctor Mortensen, Maria?”

  When they took my covers off, I opened my mouth to protest until I noticed that my visitor was gone.

  ****

  Some say lonely children attract imaginary friends. Despite my age, I figured I must have joined their ranks, but as days became weeks without another glimpse, I accepted that my str
anger had been even less than that.

  He must have been a mirage. Such an extreme time of my life had produced a sweet memory—my own secret illusion. In my mind, he was the beacon of light shining me back to this side of the living.

  The real grind toward healing began. With my broken neck, the chance of waking up disabled had been so much more than a possibility. I knew how lucky I was.

  My days were filled with physical therapy and grief counseling, and Luna’s visits came as heaven-sent interruptions.

  “Here, Gaia; I made you chocolate chip cookies!” A small package landed on the bed before my sister climbed in. I hurried to dry the tears I’d been crying before she came. “They’ve got M&Ms on top,” she said, but frowned when she saw my expression.

  “Why are you upset?”

  “What, you think it’s weird that I’m not bouncing with joy when all my friends are dead?”

  “Sorry…” My sweet, fourteen-year old sister’s face crumpled, and I felt bad.

  “Ugh, no, I shouldn’t have said that. It’s just hard, sometimes, with the grief counseling stirring everything up.”

  “Do you have to go to that thing?”

  “Yeah…I mean it helps, but it hurts too, and I usually have physical therapy right after. It’s like they don’t want me to catch a break.”

  Luna’s eyes began to brim over as she leaned into me. “When are they letting you out? I miss you.”

  “Soon, I hope,” I said, stroking her hair. She sniffed against my throat, and my breath puffed out too loud.

  “What?” she mumbled.

  “Nothing. The grief counselor lady mentioned how people feel guilty for being alive…and it made me start thinking.”