“Yes,” she finally said. “And when you sing to someone’s heart, it lets your song flow as it is supposed to.”
Carowyn then pulled the wooden box closer and opened the lid. “I’ve also discovered that our gift can influence elements as well.”
“Elements? What are those?”
“Let me show you.”
From within the box, Carowyn lifted the metal statue of a horse I’d found in George’s library. She looked at me and arched her brow.
“Bronze?”
“Yes,” I confirmed.
She gave a stiff nod, placing the statue right in front of her. Then she began to sing again. This time, the melody was faster, the song about a boy marching into battle with his brothers at his side. Carowyn placed one hand on the back of the bronze horse, her voice quivering in the air. When the sound built into a trembling crescendo, a spark of electric-green light glowed from her hand where she touched the little statue.
Maddie gasped, staring with wild eyes as the glowing intensified, then Carowyn’s song fell into a rhythmic cadence as she described the boy marching, singing, “One, two, three four…the battle is won, but there will be more.”
She whipped her hand from the statue at the same time a bronze leg lifted from the metal plate it was soldered to. Draped entirely in the green, luminescent glow, the horse lifted its head toward Maddie. She clapped her pudgy hands over her mouth as the horse mechanically marched onto the quilt, teetering on unsure metal feet, tossing its head robotically as it marched to Carowyn’s tempo.
Carowyn smiled as she continued to sing, making her metal horse prance and toss its tail, leaping a rumple in the quilt like a real horse might a fence. Its mane lifted as one flat piece and clanked back into place. Finally, the song wound down, then Carowyn sang it back to its original position on the metal plate, finishing with one sharp clap to end the song and the enchantment of the bronze horse.
Maddie stared for a brief second before exclaiming, “Bloody hell, mate!” Then she slapped her hands over her mouth again.
I let out a bark of laughter. Shaking a finger at her, I feigned concern, “I think you’re spending too much time with Thomas.”
“But did you see that, Xander! She made the horse walk. And dance.” She looked up at Carowyn as if she were a goddess. I knew exactly how she felt. “Will I be able to do that?”
Carowyn put the horse back into the box, scooping out some long goose feathers I’d tied together with some string. She closed the lid of the box, then untied the feathers and laid them out.
“I don’t know that you’ll have an affinity for metal. Or for any element at all. But it’s easier to influence light objects with your song before you try to influence the spirits of others.”
Maddie lifted one of the white feathers. “Like these?”
“Yes.” Carowyn reached over and helped Maddie cup the feather in her hand. “Now, think of a song you love most in the world. And when you sing it, focus on that pressure you feel here.” She tapped her chest with a finger. “Focus on letting that pressure build.”
“But that’s when it hurts.”
“No, love. It hurts because you never let it out. You’ve only sung when playing with friends or training games. You need to sing with purpose.”
“And what’s my purpose?”
“To sing to this feather and wish that he’d fly.”
Maddie giggled. “All right. I’ll try.”
“That’s all I ask. Just try.”
Maddie glanced over to where I watched, keeping silent, not wanting to disturb the two. The connection they’d built in less than an hour was remarkable. I could actually see a bond tightening between the demoness and the Nephilim.
Maddie stared down at the feather in her hand before finally starting to sing a female pop song I recognized but couldn’t quite place. One of those upbeat, the-sky-is-blue and the-world-is-fine songs. Almost immediately, that familiar hum of seraph power winged into the air, though not in the same way as Carowyn’s, whose power was a sharp, penetrating force. Maddie’s felt like the vibration of a hundred bees shaking the air and stirring the wind. But not one of the feathers.
Then I saw it. A faint blue aura blinking like a firefly before it took hold and bloomed brighter, larger, the buzzing vibration trembling harder. But the feather never moved. Maddie continued to sing, the power within this small girl evident in the electric snapping of the air. Wind swirled around our little world under the beech tree, the limbs above us clacking together as if drumming a happy beat to her song.
A different clacking sound knocked in a steady tempo, coming from…the wooden box. Carowyn opened the lid, jumping back as the glass marbles I’d put inside shot out in a stream. Maddie kept singing, her eyes lit with joy as the seven marbles swirled in a corkscrew midair. Maddie drew in the air with her finger, and the marbles flew in a perfect circle, spinning faster and faster, creating the optical illusion that there was a solid band floating in the air.
She slowed her song to the final chorus, raising and lowering her finger like a rollercoaster. The marbles obeyed, swiftly following each other up and down, until Maddie pointed her finger straight toward the sky. Like an arrow, the marbles shot through the branches, breaking twigs as they went. Maddie clapped once like Carowyn had to end her song and the magical spell. The marbles fell lifelessly back to the quilt, bringing a small shower of twigs with them.
Maddie leaped to her feet, giggling and spinning in a circle on the grass. “I did it!”
“You certainly did, sweetheart.” Carowyn picked up a marble and glanced at me. “Glass.”
Finally, I moved from my relaxed position against the tree and crouched on the quilt, picking up a marble.
“Does that mean something?”
She shook her head in disbelief, staring at the small marble in her hand. “She’s just so young, Xander. And she’s only half blood.”
“What does it mean?” I knew little about the world of angels and their supernatural gifts.
“Seraphs always practice their gift using inanimate objects. Light ones.”
“Like feathers,” I offered.
“Yes. And leaves. But seraph song is meant for persuading and coaxing the natural elements, specifically air, which is easily manipulated. We use the song to force air to listen and do our bidding. The human spirit is always our ultimate goal, to persuade and inspire. This kind of influence is common to all seraphs. But what is not common is a seraph’s affinity for other natural elements.”
“Like metal,” I added. “And glass.”
“Yes.” She paused and bit her lip in concentration. “The seraph song is very powerful with her. Her affinity reminds me of mine with bronze. I don’t know why, but that element speaks to me above all others. And it listens to me, too.” She shrugged. “It’s hard to explain.”
“I understand.” And I did. Though I didn’t have such a gift, I knew that otherworld powers raised mere elements to something magical.
I watched Maddie hopping from one stone paver to another on one foot. She appeared to be completely unaffected by her display of power. But she giggled incessantly.
“Is that normal? For her to laugh so much?”
Carowyn watched the little girl, too, a beatific smile creasing her face. “The release of the song brings great joy. It’s cathartic and—I don’t know how to explain it. It just makes you feel happy.”
“And that’s why you became Bone, the metal forger, when you left Elysium.”
Swiveling back around, she faced me with an open expression. More open than I’d seen before. “Yes. I discovered my gift with metals shortly after I…well, after I became Bone. I knew that I could channel my song and use it that way, since I’d given up on the other.”
“The other? Meaning human souls.”
She blinked hard as if to shed a painful memory. “You’ve got the gist of it.”
A bell gonged from the back portico, the signal for all children to return to training. George had emptied sev
eral rooms on the third floor for them to use. Maddie ran back toward us and launched herself at Carowyn first.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Maddie beamed up at her. “I feel so good now, Bone. Light as a butterfly.”
“I’m so happy, Maddie-bear.”
I smiled at her using my pet name for my sweet girl.
“Now, remember, I want you to practice this exercise, but only in the company of Xander or George or Cooper. Okay?”
Maddie frowned. “I can’t tell Thomas? He’s my best friend.”
“No, not yet.” Carowyn cupped the little girl’s pretty face in her hands. “This is a very special gift you have. We need to keep it a secret for now. Can you do that?”
She nodded. “Of course.” She jumped up and planted a kiss on Carowyn’s cheek. “I love you.” Then she hugged me tight around the legs. I ruffled her wild curls before she spun away back toward the wrought iron gate.
I laughed as she zipped away, happier than I’d ever seen her. Carowyn abruptly marched back toward the quilt. Rather than sit or pack things away, she stood with both hands on her hips, her head tilted toward the sky. Tension stiffened her frame.
Approaching slowly, I placed a hand on her arm, caressing her silken skin as I maneuvered in front of her. “What’s wrong?”
She lowered her chin, leveling her gaze with mine. A punch to the gut. Her amber-gold eyes shimmered with tears. I gripped her by the upper arms, bringing her closer.
“What is it?”
The sight of tears in this tough-as-stainless-steel woman brought me to my knees.
“Tell me,” I growled. “Why are you crying?”
“I’m not crying,” she snapped, swiping the back of her hand across one cheek.
I watched the movement then arched a brow at her. “Seriously?”
“Just let me go.” She tried halfheartedly to pull away from me.
I refused to release her when she was so obviously in pain. “Not until you tell me.”
She stopped struggling and stared over my shoulder, seeing something else far away.
“Do you want to know why I left Elysium?”
I didn’t answer, for it was quite clear she was on the verge of spilling whatever memory tortured her to tears all after sweet Maddie gave her a hug and a kiss.
“I was doing my duty,” she started with some menace. “Trying to help some humans in the time of the Roman emperor Diocletian. He was one of the truly sadistic emperors of Rome, one who basked in blood and death.” She paused, still far away. I kept her steady in my grip, unmoving. “I was trying to help the innocents who he began to execute in the arena…to entertain the masses. You’d think he was a high demon the way he loved violence and blood so much. I even crept secretly into his palace to sing to him while he slept. Unfortunately, he was under possession of the demon prince Vladek already. I didn’t know this at the time, only that I was unable to breach the wall of malevolence that encapsulated his heart, and his soul. So I tried another tactic. I would sift into the dungeons at night, cast illusions to hide my wings, and bring food and water to the hopeless humans. Then I’d sing to them, inspiring them any way I could, even if it was to feel hope and faith that they might be spared. For Diocletian was as changeable as the wind.”
I couldn’t help but interrupt at this point. “You couldn’t just sift them away. Help them escape?”
She drifted back to me in the present. “I wasn’t a guardian. I was a seraph. My job was to inspire the hopeless out of despair. To influence evil toward good. That was my job, Xander. And we were forbidden from revealing our true selves. I obeyed the rules.” Flinty sparks electrified her gaze as she seemed to regret obeying these rules. “Then one day, I went to the cells to bring food to my favorite family. Their little boy, Abram, would sit on my lap as I sang songs of hope and prosperity. Songs that would lift them in their worst hour.”
“But they were gone,” I deduced.
“Yes.” She scoffed. “They were gone. I slipped into Diocletian’s box under a cast of invisibility right as Abram and his family were pushed out onto the arena sand. They were holding hands and singing my song. I used my power, no more than a hum of sound which I knew couldn’t be heard, anyway, with the mob screaming for blood. I tried to make the emperor call off the day’s games as I watched little Abram’s terrified face, even as he sang loud and strong. But Vladek was there, sitting in the seat next to the emperor, grinning at me like the demon lord he was.”
“He saw through your glamour?”
“Easily. He even mouthed, ‘hello, angel,’ right before he whispered in Diocletian’s ear. The emperor gave the signal, and a half a dozen vicious lions were released on Abram and his family.” A tear slid down her cheek. “I watched the lions devour that family. Tear sweet Abram to pieces. Not one of them screamed the whole time. And I realized I’d never win. I’d never really have the power to save someone worth saving. The demon lords would always win.”
I pulled her into my arms. She didn’t protest, pressing her cheek into my shoulder.
“So I left Rome. And I left Elysium. Then I woke up one morning, lying in a pile of ash—my wings. Only one feather was left—white and rimmed in pale blue.”
I hugged her tighter against me, mourning the loss of those beautiful angel wings and her faith, and the breaking of her heart. “You weren’t responsible for their deaths, Carowyn.”
“They sang my song to their deaths, Xander. I couldn’t stop it. I wasn’t strong enough, wasn’t powerful enough.”
I pulled back, gripping her around the nape and forcing her to look up at me. “No. You weren’t a match for a powerful demon prince. But you gave them hope and love right up to the very end. They could’ve died in fear and despair. Because of you, they went to their deaths in love.”
She stared at me in disbelief, the anger ebbing away, transforming to a soft submission as she closed her eyes against the memory. “I never…never cried for Abram. Or his family. Not until now.”
Gently, I pulled her to me. “Go on, Carowyn. Cry for them now.”
And she did. I cupped the back of her head and kissed her crown, letting this former angel shed all her anger and frustration and regret. For I knew this feeling well. Fortunately, I’d let my bitterness and anger go a long time ago. Most of it. Carowyn had carried it far too long.
Her hands fisted in the back of my shirt while I rocked her gently in my arms. I whispered down to her some advice I knew from experience.
“If you cherish your anger and hatred, and cradle it too close, it’ll burn a black hole right through your heart.”
She inhaled a deep breath, thick emotion vibrating in her voice. “It’s not that easy to let go,” she whispered.
“I know. I remember.”
I pressed my lips to her hair, breathing in this vibrant, beautiful, and unbelievably compassionate woman. She hid it so well as Bone, the arms dealer, the blade-maker, the demoness. Cowering behind her wall of leave-me-alone and I-take-no-sides. Now I knew, undoubtedly, that it was all a facade. One layer at a time, I’d strip away all that was Bone until Carowyn could step from within and breathe again. And shine bright.
“God, I bet your wings were beautiful,” I whispered.
She laughed, turning her face into my neck. “Magnificent.”
Cupping her face, I pressed my forehead to hers. “You’re still magnificent. Beyond magnificent, really.” I couldn’t quite form what I felt for her at this moment, my heart near to bursting with some foreign emotion. All I knew was that it both hurt and felt extraordinarily good.
“Xander. You’ve got to keep Maddie’s power a secret. Let as few people know as you can.”
“Why?” This puzzled me earlier, but we’d spiraled into her confession of her past—one that still had my head spinning, let alone the fact that she’d shared it with me.
“Seraphs are used as pets to many high demons. They enslave them and use them as entertainment for their disgusting parties. Or they do worse
to them.”
My gut clenched at the thought of Maddie in the hands of some sick fuck as his party favor. My own demons rose up to haunt me. I blinked that away. I’d share them with Carowyn another time. Not now. Too much darkness for now.
“We’ll keep the information close, then. Cooper already knows, and probably his top men and women. But I’ll talk to them.”
She sighed in relief. I bent down and picked up the box, propping it under my arm against my hip. She folded the quilt.
“We’d best get inside and get ready. George wants to brief us on the plan one more time before we head out tonight.”
“I still don’t like this plan,” she said, holding the folded blanket against her chest.
“It’s the best one we’ve got.” Then I grinned.
“What?”
“I’m just imagining what you’ll look like in the dress I picked out for you.”
“Dress?”
Chuckling, I walked ahead toward the gate. “It’s a formal masquerade, darling. We’ve got to look the part.”
“You’re too pretty to mix with the demon filth we’ll be hanging with tonight.”
I leaned my head down to her. “You think I’m pretty? I wondered when you’d notice.”
She rolled her eyes. “Are you sure you’re not a demon? You’re certainly as arrogant and as vain as one.”
I opened the gate, and she put her hand over mine, stopping me, her expression sobering quickly. “I noticed the first time I laid eyes on you. When I thought you were a dead man being carried into my shop.”
“Thanks to you, I’m not a dead man.”
She moved her hand, delicate bronzed fingers landing over my heart, where she pressed her palm. “No. And I’m so grateful you’re not.”
I covered her hand with mine, thinking about her despair at being overpowered by Vladek, the very reason she was now a demoness and not an angel.
“You are far more powerful than you realize, Carowyn. You want to know how I know?”
She nodded, desperation tight in her expression.
“Because your voice…your song is in here.” I curled my fingers around her hand. “Pounding into my heart every second of every day. Not every angel can give life.” Lifting her palm, I pressed a kiss at the center. “You remember that the next time you decide you’re not strong enough.”
Hardest Fall Page 14
