Page 78 of The Gargoyle and the Songbird

She nods slowly, as if the weight of this revelation is almost too much to bear.

I stand up and grasp her hands, which tremble slightly after having wielded so much power. Her eyes meet mine, and I can see understanding dawn on her, just as the realization hits me as well.

Ecco tugs me forward toward the path, steps quick.

“Come on, Graeme. I need to find a few more volunteers so I can practice. And then… We have a house call to pay.”

29

ECCO

Iwake slowly, pulling myself from a deep slumber. Practicing my powers yesterday exhausted me—I was out as soon as I hit the mattress. Thankfully, after a night of sleep, I’m much refreshed.

My eyes flutter open and Graeme’s face fills my vision, his chiseled features relaxed and peaceful in slumber.

I want to savor this stolen moment, to etch every detail into my memory. The solid weight of Graeme’s muscular arm draped over my waist, the feel of his wings curled around me, our bodies entangled.

But even as I nestle deeper into his embrace, I can’t shake the nerves twisting in my belly. The knowledge of what today will bring sits heavy on my chest, knowing how it threatens to shatter this fragile world we’ve built around ourselves.

Graeme’s eyes blink open, pale blue eyes still soft with sleep as they seek out mine. He raises a large hand to cradle my cheek, his touch impossibly gentle.

“Good morning,” he murmurs, voice husky in a way that sets my pulse racing.

I tilt my face into his caress, helpless to resist the magnetic pull between us even as dread coils tighter in my gut. Gazinginto those fathomless blue depths, I know with sudden, aching certainty that our time here is drawing to an end.

That no matter how badly I long to stay cocooned in his arms, reality is waiting.

“We should get up,” I whisper, the words scraping painfully past the lump in my throat.

Shadows flicker in Graeme’s eyes as he absorbs my reluctance.

“I know,” he sighs, rough fingers tracing patterns on my back. “But let’s just... let’s just have this moment, okay? Just a little while longer.”

Tears prick hot behind my eyes and I nod, not trusting my voice. Arching closer, I map the sculpted planes and ridges of his chest with reverent hands, memorizing every inch of his skin. Our limbs entangle, bodies fitting together like puzzle pieces.

When we come together, our lovemaking is slow, tender, each caress a wordless promise. A desperate edge tinges our movements as we try to etch every detail into our hearts.

Afterwards, we lay entwined, pulses gradually slowing. Graeme’s arms anchor me but I know, I know we can’t stay cocooned here forever, much as I long to.

Our stolen time is almost up.

Fortifiedwith a hearty Moonflower cafe breakfast, Graeme and I head to Velda’s cottage.

Inside, the air carries hints of chamomile and ginger from her latest wonderful tea, but grief is still the most palpable presence in the house. It’s etched into the weathered lines of Velda’s face, reflected in her red-rimmed eyes as she perches on her armchair by the hearth.

My heart aches seeing the once vibrant weather witch so diminished. I kneel beside her chair and take her papery hands in mine. A flicker of hope kindles in her gaze.

“Are you ready?” I ask softly.

Velda purses her lips. “And you’re sure this won’t make me forget my Myrtle?”

“It won’t, I promise. But it will, I hope, help ease the sharpest edges of the pain.”

For a long moment, Velda is silent. Then she nods once, decisive. “I’m ready.”

Drawing a steadying breath, I close my eyes and reach deep inside myself, tapping into the symphony of power that thrums through my veins. It’s easier this time, waiting for me, a deep ocean of power asking to be tapped. The siren’s song builds behind my ribs, in my throat.

And then, I open my mouth and begin to sing.

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