One halo brought sight to Brielle. Another offers sweet relief from what she sees. Brielle can’t help but see the Celestial. Even without the halo, the invisible realm is everywhere she looks. It’s impossibly beautiful—and terrifying, especially now. Because a battle rages above Stratus, Oregon. The Terrestrial Veil is ripping, and demons walk the streets past unseeing mortals. Dark, sticky fear drips from every face, and nightmares haunt Brielle’s sleep. Worst of all, Jake is gone. The only boy she’s ever loved has been taken by the demon, Damien. When she receives instructions from the Throne Room leading her to Jake, she unknowingly walks into a diabolical and heartbreaking trap. Now she’s stranded in a sulfurous desert with the Prince of Darkness himself, and he’s offering her another halo—a mirrored ring that will destroy her Celestial vision. All she has to do is wear it and she’ll see no more of the invisible world. No more fear. No more nightmares. No more demons. It’s a gift. And best of all: it comes with the promise of a future with Jake, something the Throne Room seems to be taking from her. Will Brielle trade the beauty of the Celestial and the truth of the world around her just to feel ordinary again? The author's creative powers engage readers' full attention in the terrestrial world, where teens are riveted by God's involvement in their lives, and the celestial vision that keeps them uplifted and seeking to set things right.--Romantic Times, 4 stars Shannon Dittemore is the author of the Angel Eyes Trilogy and has an overactive imagination and a passion for truth. Her lifelong journey to combine the two is responsible for a stint at Portland Bible College, performances with local theater companies, and a focus on youth and young adult ministry. When she isn't writing, she spends her days with her husband, Matt, chasing their two children around their home in Northern California. DARK HALO Book Three in the ANGEL EYES TRILOGY By SHANNON DITTEMORE Thomas Nelson Copyright © 2013 Shannon Dittemore All rights reserved. ISBN: 978-1-4016-8639-0 CHAPTER 1 Brielle Jake's gone. His absence races through my veins like a bomb destinedto explode if it stops or slows. That's how I feel: thatthe truth of what happened here yesterday will kill me if I stopmoving. So I don't. I keep dancing. I keep praying. Moments of peacefind me, sprinkled like cinnamon onto a poisoned apple. For the thousandth time I yank my mind away from darkthings and back to the Creator, who brought Jake into my life.Back to the beauty of the Celestial. The Celestial that is coloringthis grove of trees red. I open my eyes and take it in. Ourneglected apple orchard, full of brittle gray wood, snarled leaves,and cobwebs, is lit up around me. Reds of every shade gracethe branches and the rotting fruit below. Dead trees are transformed.Light and life expand from their center, reminding methat reality as I know it is not all there is. Another sprinkle of cinnamon ... Jake's been gone for eighteen hours now, and still the Sabressing. Still they fight. Their presence has thinned the terrestrialveil here in the orchard, and it can't be long before their worshiptears through. I just ... I don't know what that means. For me. For Stratus. My chest heaves with exertion and my body is slick withsweat when a gigantic silver angel comes into view overhead.My celestial vision has been erratic for the last few days, but as Iwatch, the battle remains visible for a solid minute, if not more.It's long enough to pull me from my dance anyway, to force mygaze through the tangle of branches above. A Sabre hovers there. I can't tell if it's Virtue; this angel'sbeen fighting for hours, days maybe, so his skin is too brightand his wings too fast, moving like an orchestra of bowstrings.Wings that I know are made of hundreds and hundreds ofblades. They blur, sending music—sharp and staccato—intothe sky. Tendrils of royal blue fill the orchard—the incense ofworship. They wrap around me, lifting my arms. I breathe in theSabre's worship. It smells of the ocean, of briny wind and sand.The fragrance fills my chest, and I let my body mimic the ribbonsof worship. I try not to take my eyes off the scene above for longer than asecond or two, because thirty paces beyond the Sabre a gaggle ofdemons dodges and leaps, avoiding the shards of white light ricochetingoff the Sabre's wings. Like a well-aimed spear, lightningslices through three of them, and they disappear in a burst of ash. The Sabre's music picks up and I dance faster, yellow incensejoining the blue. Smelling of salty sunshine, it wraps around mylegs, one after the other. The incense guides me; I stretch andspin, my face craned to the sky, watching. Always watching. A single demon moves closer, slinking past his brothers. Hejabs with his crooked sword, his mouth moving in a strangeanimal way. But I hear nothing of it. The song of the Sabredrowns his cry. I curl into myself, backing deeper