thought. The first choice was simple. “Well, that’s easy. My Grammy is worth saving. Even you said she was amazing.”
“You can’t save your grandmother.”
“But I want to.” She had given Angelina everything. Grammy Angel was her compass.
“It’s not that simple.” Rafe paused. “There are some who are ready to depart. Some whose time to pass on has come. You must be respectful of that. “
“It’s not her time!” She shouted. “I won’t let it be.”
“Angelina.” He looked at her, sorrow in his deep gaze. “It’s too late.”
SEVENTEEN
Angelina had frozen. She held preternaturally still as if she moved, she would shatter into a thousand pieces.
“I am sorry.”
Strangely, he truly meant the sometimes meaningless words. He was sorry. Sorry for the Guerisse family. Sorry for himself. Angelina Guerisse would not last the night. Her passing meant he only had a limited time to complete Angelina’s training. And then he would ascend away from humans. Away from her.
He would be removed from their difficult, messy and sometimes self-absorbed presence. But he would also be removed from their capacity to love and their joy in the everyday and their childlike wonder of anything remotely magical.
He wanted to reach out and touch her. Maybe he could absorb her sorrow and the incredible beauty of her soul. Her enormous generosity of spirit shone through every pore of her skin.
“Are you saying my Grammy is...gone?”
“No. But she won’t last the night.”
She still hadn’t moved. Not even her gaze had wavered from his face. In the dark, intimate bubble of this tree house, her anguish filled the little room, burst out of the tiny cracks between the walls, and poured through the windows. Her soul cried out in devastating loss.
There was a strange tightness to his chest as he struggled to take in air.
When she finally moved, it was to speak, so low, he had to shift his feet and open his legs to lean forward to hear her. “Did you know?” The last word was almost a whisper.
“Did I know what?”
“Did. You. Know.” Her mouth formed the words with exaggerated precision, low and hard and imbued with some emotion he didn’t understand. She had gone from not moving to trembling so hard he worried she would fall right out of the tree house.
“I don’t--”
Angelina launched herself at him like a Rottweiler on guard duty. “Did you know it would kill her?” Her fists pounded against his shoulders, not hurting him although that was certainly her intent. Her rage and desperation and fear were palpable. She fell into him, tears scoring her face. Her body rocked and her hair flew as she pounded out her grief against his body.
“She is dying.” Rafe tried to comfort her, stroking her hair as he would a child’s. “Transferring the power wouldn’t kill your grandmother.”
“She woke up. She talked to me.” Her fists still pounded against him, ineffectual in her anger.
“To say goodbye.” Finally he captured her clenched fingers and held them in his hands so that she wouldn’t hurt herself. At this moment all he wanted to do was take away her pain. But healers could only heal the physical, not the mental. His only offering was comfort. “She loves you very much.”
As if a dam broke within her, she collapsed onto his chest. Her head thunked against his breastbone, and her body melted into his.
Great giant sobs shook her delicate frame. She shifted from rage to despair. Her body crumpled against his, as her tears soaked into his cotton shirt and her hips pressed up against his. Her head rested against his shoulder and her arms circled his waist.
“I love her.” Her breath caught in her throat. “So much.”
“I know.” She sprawled over him. His left arm cradled her and he stroked her arm. Her skin was so supple and soft. The tactile sensation tingled from her skin to his heart.
She sniffled and rubbed her head under his chin, her breath hot on the bare skin of his neck.
“You can’t save your grandmother.”
“But I want to.” She had given Angelina everything. Grammy Angel was her compass.
“It’s not that simple.” Rafe paused. “There are some who are ready to depart. Some whose time to pass on has come. You must be respectful of that. “
“It’s not her time!” She shouted. “I won’t let it be.”
“Angelina.” He looked at her, sorrow in his deep gaze. “It’s too late.”
SEVENTEEN
Angelina had frozen. She held preternaturally still as if she moved, she would shatter into a thousand pieces.
“I am sorry.”
Strangely, he truly meant the sometimes meaningless words. He was sorry. Sorry for the Guerisse family. Sorry for himself. Angelina Guerisse would not last the night. Her passing meant he only had a limited time to complete Angelina’s training. And then he would ascend away from humans. Away from her.
He would be removed from their difficult, messy and sometimes self-absorbed presence. But he would also be removed from their capacity to love and their joy in the everyday and their childlike wonder of anything remotely magical.
He wanted to reach out and touch her. Maybe he could absorb her sorrow and the incredible beauty of her soul. Her enormous generosity of spirit shone through every pore of her skin.
“Are you saying my Grammy is...gone?”
“No. But she won’t last the night.”
She still hadn’t moved. Not even her gaze had wavered from his face. In the dark, intimate bubble of this tree house, her anguish filled the little room, burst out of the tiny cracks between the walls, and poured through the windows. Her soul cried out in devastating loss.
There was a strange tightness to his chest as he struggled to take in air.
When she finally moved, it was to speak, so low, he had to shift his feet and open his legs to lean forward to hear her. “Did you know?” The last word was almost a whisper.
“Did I know what?”
“Did. You. Know.” Her mouth formed the words with exaggerated precision, low and hard and imbued with some emotion he didn’t understand. She had gone from not moving to trembling so hard he worried she would fall right out of the tree house.
“I don’t--”
Angelina launched herself at him like a Rottweiler on guard duty. “Did you know it would kill her?” Her fists pounded against his shoulders, not hurting him although that was certainly her intent. Her rage and desperation and fear were palpable. She fell into him, tears scoring her face. Her body rocked and her hair flew as she pounded out her grief against his body.
“She is dying.” Rafe tried to comfort her, stroking her hair as he would a child’s. “Transferring the power wouldn’t kill your grandmother.”
“She woke up. She talked to me.” Her fists still pounded against him, ineffectual in her anger.
“To say goodbye.” Finally he captured her clenched fingers and held them in his hands so that she wouldn’t hurt herself. At this moment all he wanted to do was take away her pain. But healers could only heal the physical, not the mental. His only offering was comfort. “She loves you very much.”
As if a dam broke within her, she collapsed onto his chest. Her head thunked against his breastbone, and her body melted into his.
Great giant sobs shook her delicate frame. She shifted from rage to despair. Her body crumpled against his, as her tears soaked into his cotton shirt and her hips pressed up against his. Her head rested against his shoulder and her arms circled his waist.
“I love her.” Her breath caught in her throat. “So much.”
“I know.” She sprawled over him. His left arm cradled her and he stroked her arm. Her skin was so supple and soft. The tactile sensation tingled from her skin to his heart.
She sniffled and rubbed her head under his chin, her breath hot on the bare skin of his neck.
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