Angel Falls by Leslie Claire Walker

Author:Leslie Claire Walker [Walker, Leslie Claire]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Secret Fire Press

Chapter 13

SILENCE REIGNED at the table. At first, because we’d dived into the meal Addie had prepared as if we’d been starved, wolfing down roast beef and Brussels sprouts and mashed potatoes, sopping up the leftover gravy with biscuits. After that, we continued to sit quietly, the stillness taking on an electric quality.

The house spirit kept watch over everyone and everything inside, and over the front and back yards as well. I trusted it to tell me if anyone intruded, but I still kept an eye on the back door and my ears open for unexpected sounds in the front of the house.

Red sat to my left, his hand resting on my thigh as I rested mine on his. He looked older than he had yesterday, the lines around his eyes and mouth deepened, his salt-and-pepper hair shaded a little more toward salt. Sunday sprawled in the chair to my right, feet stretched far underneath the table. She held my hand, occasionally brushing her thumb across my knuckles. She’d twined her fingers with mine as if she needed reassurance. Miguel kept his hands and his thoughts to himself. His bruised-purple halo swirled faster than usual, betraying his nerves.

Addie, dressed all in ghostly white, poured coffee from a glass carafe. When she finished with our side of the table, she moved on to serve the kids.

One was missing. Not forever, though. I refused to let it be forever.

I swallowed my grief. We had too much to do. Too much risk to take. If I was ever going to see Faith again, I’d need to live through the next twenty-four hours. We were going to need everyone this time. No hanging back. No this is too dangerous. It was all hands on deck.

There’d been no time to discuss the plan that had been forming in my mind during the meal with any of them. Chances were, no one would like it. But I needed as many of them on board as I could get. All of them, if possible.

The adults I felt pretty sure of. I gave the kids a critical eye.

Stacy and Beth huddled together in the corner, whispering so low all I could hear was the hiss of their voices. Ben, all in gray, the same color as his halo, his mouth set hard and thin. Jess hugged her knees, heels braced on the edge of her seat, brown eyes full of sorrow and steadfast determination. Corey, dressed in black, her red hair darker than usual, the color of blood. She didn’t look ready to mourn. She looked ready to go to war.

No child should ever have to feel what Corey felt. War was a place to channel her grief. A way to strike back at the forces that had taken over innocent lives. That had broken relationships. That had broken hearts—and people.

War was the only thing that made sense.

There was the other thing: the memory the Angel had shown me. The one he’d said told me everything I needed to know.

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