Chapter Fifteen

Xander

“Where did you get them?” Maddie asked, her dark eyes round with surprised joy while she stuffed a huge chunk of Cadbury chocolate in her mouth.

The other children, forty of them spread out on the lawn behind Thornton Hall, were giggling and doing the same.

One freckle-faced boy, Thomas, squealed with delight, “Jelly babies! I haven’t had these in ages.” He took the pack of jellies from the giant box of candy that Dommiel and I had delivered to the children in the back gardens during “break.” Cooper’s Twelvers still had the kids on a strict schedule to keep a routine in place. The mornings were devoted to studies, the afternoons to training and tactical skills. An hour in between for lunch and playtime.

Thomas talked around a mouthful of jellies. “My mum used to take me to Hardy’s Sweet Shop once a mumf.”

Thomas was an orphan, like so many of them, yet he spoke of his mother with a smile, his cheeks puffed out from gelatinous candy.

Maddie giggled. “Slow down, Thomas, or you’ll choke.”

“But there’s still Flakes and Irn-brus and Yorkies and Maltesers and Aero chocolate bars. Bloody hell, mate!”

“Thomas,” I shook my head at him, stifling a laugh. “Let’s save some for tomorrow, shall we?” I suggested, making no move to close the box. It was just too brilliant watching them smile and laugh so freely over something as simple as sweets.

A pang of remorse for the childhoods they’d left behind struck me hard in the chest.

“But where did you get it?” asked Maddie again.

“Oh, I’m afraid you’ll have to thank Uncle Dom. He seemed to know of a warehouse in town with a stash of food and supplies. He found this box and thought of you lot.”

I glanced over at the menacing demon leaning against a pillar on the back portico and grinning like a devil down at the children. If I didn’t know him better, I’d think he was luring them to their doom like a witch in a Grimm fairytale. Or the Pied Piper. But then Anya joined him, her blue wings fanning wide behind as she watched the children. His red-eyed gaze shifted to her, his expression softening as he stared at the woman he loved and had nearly died for. The expression on his face was beautiful, and painful to see. Another kind of pang pierced my chest. I looked away.

“Let’s play hide-n-seek!” shouted Harold, one of the older boys, leading the others into the giant hedge maze. Though the air was cold, the hedge foliage was still full enough to offer a fun play-place for the children.

“Do you want to play?” Maddie asked.

“Me? No. Actually, I’d hoped I might have some time with you alone. Well, me and—”

“Bone!” shouted Maddie, leaping from the grass and launching herself at the woman in my thoughts at that very moment.

Carowyn wore gray cargo pants and a black T-shirt, obviously borrowed from one of the Twelvers. Thankfully, she hadn’t packed on her weapons, except perhaps the ones hidden in her boots. Not that it would’ve frightened the children, but I wanted her mind on inspiration and creation for today’s work. Not on blades and guns and destruction. She caught Maddie in her arms, a brilliant smile breaking across her face. I sucked in a breath at the beauty of her looking down at the little girl. For a split second, I saw the seraph she once was. It was hypnotizing.

“I hoped you’d come and see me again,” said Maddie, her arms around Carowyn’s waist.

“I promised I would, didn’t I?”

I sauntered over. “Ladies, will you follow me?” I gestured toward a gate leading to a side garden.

Maddie took her hand, and Carowyn held hers easily as if this were her natural habitat, not forging weapons for dangerous demon princes. I held the wrought iron gate open. Carowyn glanced at me, her expression blank with a small pinch between her brow. I figured she’d have some anxiety about this. But it was necessary. She was the one who’d told me so in the first place.

“Where are we going?” asked Maddie, trustful as ever.

“Right over there.”

I pointed to the large beech tree and the blanket spread out beneath. Upon the blanket sat a small, wooden box. The tree’s limbs were still naked of any leaves. The constant electric energy stirred up by angelic and demonic battle seemed to have shifted the climate. It was always cold and gray, no sign of a true spring yet to come. But I’d gathered the things Carowyn had requested of me for today’s lesson with Maddie, most of which were easy to find around George’s mansion. And one I added myself.

Maddie ran toward the blanket, laughing as she plopped herself down, her brown curls bouncing.

“How was your day yesterday?” I asked Carowyn quietly. I’d spent the day seeking out the clothes we’d need for the masquerade.

“Uneventful,” she replied, watching Maddie. “Dommiel went back to my shop to see if it was still being watched. I’d hoped to grab some personal items, but there were not just two red priests like before, but six.”

“So you didn’t go back to your shop.”

“Yes, I did. Then I waited for them to disappear before I left again.” More silence before she asked, “And how was your day yesterday? I thought I might see you at dinner.” She seemed almost shy. My hands itched to touch her, pull her into my arms.

“Sorry, I was out very late. I had wanted to make it back in time for another game of pool.” She started, glaring up at me. I smiled. “But it took me a while to find exactly what I needed. Kat and I had to scour the shops in London, so many of them demolished into rubble or already ransacked.”

“And did you find everything?”

“Yes,” I assured her, stopping under the tree. “We’re ready for tonight. I left what you need in your room.”

She nodded, turning her attention to Maddie as she kneeled and sat back on her haunches. “So. It’s time we talked about your special gift.”

I sat outside the blanket, propping my back against the old beech tree, legs outstretched and crossed at the ankles. Crossing my arms, I watched what I’d been waiting to see ever since Carowyn had met Maddie at the Twelvers’ compound in London. Carowyn had mentioned that Maddie needed to learn how to use the seraph song or she could harm herself. This would be the closest to seeing an angel at work I’d ever come.

“My gift?” asked Maddie, tilting her pretty head.

“Yes.” Carowyn pressed her hand flat against Maddie’s chest. “The one you feel inside here when you sing.”

The girl smiled. “The same one you have.”

“Yes. The same one.”

Maddie placed her pale hands over the sandy-hued one of Carowyn. “It hurts sometimes,” she whispered.

“Yes. I know. Do you know why?”

Maddie shook her head, ringlets swaying.

“Because your song needs to be released.”

“Released? But how?”

“It’s like this,” said Carowyn, glancing up at the tree, thinking. “Have you ever seen a brook or river after a cold winter?”

Maddie nodded. “My grandfather had a farm in Yorkshire. Mum would take us there every spring. He had a pretty stream he called the fairy stream.” She giggled at the memory. “Sometimes, I’d have to go with him to clear out dead limbs and such that had floated down when the ice melted. He had to keep it running clear for his sheep.”

Carowyn smiled. “Exactly. Your grandfather needed that stream running without any obstacles. What do you suppose would happen if a giant tree or a large boulder would’ve rolled across the stream and blocked the way?”

Her brown eyes widened. “Well, those poor sheep wouldn’t have a thing to drink. We’d have to haul pails from the bloody well.”

“Yes.” Carowyn stifled a laugh. So did I. “But what might happen to the water flow, do you think?”

Maddie pursed her brow, her heart-shaped face tilted up in thought. “It would build up, for certain. Might overflow onto the banks and flood all over.”

“Exactly!” Carowyn clapped her hands together, moving to sit with her legs crossed underneath her. “That’s what our song is like, Maddie. Think of it as a river, constantly flowing. And while it may flow through us without any outlet, if we don’t offer it one, it could build up and overflow.” She patted Maddie’s chest again. “That’s why it hurts sometimes.”

“So, just singing isn’t enough?”

“No, love. The song must be used in a way to inspire, to craft, or to create. That is what it’s meant for. The song is the river, and we are the rocks, the riverbed, the embankment, everything that channels it where it needs to go.”

“Where does it come from?” she asked.

I waited, anticipation thick in the air as Carowyn considered her answer, never once glancing in my direction. Finally, she took the little girl’s hands in her own. “From heaven.”

“But how did I get it?”

“Madelyn, did you never meet your father?”

She shook her head.

“No matter. Just trust me when I tell you that there is a touch of heaven in your heart, love. And we’re going to practice using that gift today.” She took a deep breath. “First, you must understand that your voice, when used with your song, has great power to influence.”

“Influence? What does that mean?”

“It means to persuade someone or something to do what you want them to do.”

Her little brow scrunched up in more confusion.

“The gift you have comes from a power to move other forces. Specifically, the human spirit.”

“You can move my spirit?” the little girl asked, gulping with frightened round eyes.

“I mean that I can influence your spirit. Let me show you.” She turned serious. “Close your eyes.”

Maddie did.

“And I want you to think of…of the day your mother died.”

I flinched at the same time Maddie did, though she didn’t open her eyes. Carowyn glanced toward me, shaking her head to keep me from interfering. She must’ve sensed my disquiet at her suggestion. Maddie’s face softened into sad lines. Carowyn immediately began to sing a soft lullaby, one of birds and spring flowers and laughing children. Underneath the words, an electric hum I’d now know anywhere as her seraph song wove into the air. Rather than beat against me with fierce waves of aggression like it did the night she sang on Axel’s stage, this song whispered and wound sweetly around us. Somehow, images of my childhood came to mind, of my mother holding my hand, laughing in the garden, as we chased a ball together. I hadn’t thought of her in some time, but the image of the loving woman who brought me into the world always made me smile. She died before I became an adult, but the time we had was filled with joy. I didn’t just remember that joy as Carowyn sang, but I felt it—true, bright happiness piercing straight to my heart.

Before long, Carowyn lowered her melody and closed the song with a hum of the chorus. Maddie opened her eyes with the brightest, most beautiful smile I’d ever seen on her precious little face.

“You sung to my heart,” she said. I knew just how she felt.

Carowyn laughed, the sweet sound rivaling the ones she made in the billiards room. I wasn’t sure what I loved more, the sound of Carowyn filled with unrestrained joy or the sound of her body in ecstasy by my own hand. It was a close tie, but the sight of her blissful face enraptured me like nothing else, hypnotizing and touching some place far deeper than my physical desire for her.

“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 several 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.”