The Seer's Lover (The Seven Archangels Series) by Kat de Falla Page B

you mean?”
    “Remember, at the pool yesterday? I was ticked off at the skimpiness of our host’s attire?”
    Calise squeezed her eyes shut against a violent pain rocking her head.
    “What’s wrong?” the woman asked.
    “She massaged her temples. “I’m sorry. I don’t remember that.”
    The woman crunched her face up as if she thought Calise was nuts. She returned to her husband.
    Something tugged and nagged at the corners of her mind. What? The more she struggled to remember what happened right before she fainted, the harder her head pounded. All she recalled was lying in the sun by the pool. She shook the feeling off and focused on Bob who pointed at the roaring waves in the distance.
    The salty air stung her nostrils while the warm wind whipped her hair. When she raised her hand, her wet suit squeaked. “Um Bob, I know you said Miguel is sick and you’re filling in for him, but isn’t it a little too windy to surf today?”
    “Dude, Cali, there’s no such thing as a bad day to surf.” His slightly dilated pupils provided no reassurance. Her brother, Dean, had been so excited for her to try surfing, but she still felt a bit weak and had a nagging feeling she was supposed to be doing something else.
    For such a glorious day, surprisingly few people dotted the hazy beach. One guy played fetch with his dog. The roar of the waves crashing on the sand drowned out his voice and the dog’s bark. A couple frolicked in the surf, and two young girls sunbathed on towels, chatting. The guy with the dog looked as if he were laughing at her so she smiled and flipped him off. A bead of sweat rolled down the inside of her bat suit.
    Asshole. Okay, cute familiar-looking asshole.
    “C’mon people, one more time.” Bob insisted on several goofy beach dress rehearsals to practice getting to a standing position on the board.
    The waves appeared to be daunting tidal waves of death.
    “We need to get moving because the tide’s changing, and these swells will soon be more than you newbies can handle,” Bob announced.
    Calise translated that to mean death was at hand.
    I choose life .
    Instead, she picked up her surfboard and let the warm water race over her hands and feet as she pulled her board out to sea. No way she’d go home and tell her brother she chickened out. With a deep breath, she flipped a leg over her board and paddled out behind Bob and the other students. The distance lengthened between Calise and the others. Bob turned and shouted something inaudible to her. Her arms burned. She worked to paddle harder.
    Splendid. What had Bob said?
    Like a good student, Calise used all her strength to keep the board headed straight through the oncoming whitewater. She managed to turn her board around so she faced shore to wait for a wave. Turning back, she realized that as the slowest one who paddled out, she would ride the first wave in.
    The others bobbed past the break point. A roar rose behind her with a wall of whitewater. On instinct, she started to paddle as hard as she could just as stoned-out Bob had said to do. The board did the rest. When the wave caught her, she did her practiced push up on the side of the board and launched her left leg forward and planted her foot in the center of the board toward the back. She pulled herself to a standing position. “Whoa.”
    Her two-second success was a short-lived miracle because her right foot was not centered, forcing her off balance. She looked over her shoulder. Something loud and dark descended on her, and then everything went black.
    ****
    After catching and corralling the horses, Lucas tried to get some rest. But the sun was already beginning to light up the ocean. He casually passed Casa del Noche which crawled with cops. Yellow tape roped off the demon’s beach house rental.
    He played over how he could have done things differently. He couldn’t get Marla’s face out of his head; her screams tortured him.
    A stranger leaned against his hut.
    An angel.
    Lucas