Out in Blue (24 page)

Chapter Twenty-seven

Wren turned away from the stone hut. A spirit of a human man had joined Gabrielle. The man gazed at Wren with familiar blue eyes. Ginger’s biological father nodded, then he and Gabrielle turned and walked back toward the demon village. Wren faced his mother.

“My son.” Kora touched Wren’s cheek.

He pulled her into a tight hug. Tall and frail, yet strong. The scent of roses. She was just as he remembered her.

“Come.” She pulled back. “Harmless or no, I can never get used to standing in the middle of a forest fire.” She held out her hand.

Wren clasped her thin fingers and with another disorientating lurch, dematerialized to another location.

No flames. The moist sea air and a night sky full of stars surrounded them. They stood on a small island; Wren could see the entire circumference of the rocky shore. An arrangement of furniture resembled that of a large house, but no roof or walls enclosed the space.

“This is the family home, so to speak,” Kora said, with a wave of her hand. “This was your father’s home before he fell to earth.”

Wren scanned his surroundings. “He lived here?”

“Yes. For over a thousand years.” Kora ran her fingers along an end table made of drift wood. “Everything here is as he left it. I’ve changed nothing.”

Wren felt the corners of his mouth drop. “You’re all alone?”

She laughed lightly. “No, not at all. This world is actually quite crowded. Living on this little island gives me some privacy. The mainland is just out of sight, across the water,” she pointed to the left, “and the demons’ island is back that way.” She pointed to the right, where a slight orange haze colored the horizon.

Wren lifted his eyes to the sky. Lights streaked across the star-speckled expanse like a meteor shower, except they didn’t go out. They darted around, as if the stars were engaged in a game. “Are those…”

“The archangels.” Kora lifted her face, smiling as she watched them. “They never seem to have their feet on the ground for more than a few minutes at a time.”

Wren lifted his wings and sat on a cozy, backless couch. She joined him, sitting with her legs folded under her. The humor left her face. “My Wren. I’m so happy to see you, but you shouldn’t be here yet.”

Wren pressed his hands together. “Is it possible to visit earth?”

“Yes.” She leaned back and gazed up at the stars and the archangels. “But the trip is exhausting, especially for human spirits, so it is rarely done. We can look in on our loved ones from here. Either way, we are powerless to help, and I’ve been so frustrated all these years…” With her eyebrows low over her green eyes and her lips curved in a sharp frown, she turned her face away. She sighed. “Lark has been a blessing. He refused to leave your father’s side, except to visit me every now and then, to assure me things would get better.”

“How do I get back? I need to go back. I took a mate last night.”

Kora nodded and her mouth lifted into a smile. “Ginger.”

“Yes. I can’t leave her…”

Kora rubbed her chin. “Visiting her will be difficult, my son. Her psychic talent will allow her to see you, but the energy drain will be a constant hurdle.”

“Yes…but I promised.”

Kora took one of his hands in both of hers. She bit her lip. “You have…another option.”

“I do?”

“You can fall.”

Wren stared at his mother, the three words she’d spoken ricocheting inside his head. Hope swelled his chest. How had he not thought of it? He jumped to his feet. “
How
—”

Kora sighed and held up a trembling hand. “Falling is something you can only do
once
. Be certain it’s what you want. Falling is very traumatic. Humans cannot survive the metamorphosis at all. Demons and archangels can only survive the process once in their thousands of years of existence. If you go back, the next time you die on earth will be the last time, whether it be tomorrow or hundreds of years from now.”

They sat in silence for a long while. Wren watched the archangels dart across the sky. He flicked his wings and lowered his eyes, glancing around the little island, his father’s previous home. Raphael had never spoken of it, of course. None of the fallen had any memories of this world. “Earth is not the friendliest place for archangels. Why did Father and the others fall in the first place?”

Kora arched an eyebrow. “Many reasons, always very personal ones.”

“And Father?” Wren pressed.

Kora twirled a lock of her dark hair in her fingers, her eyes focused on the horizon. “Dreams in this world are very curious. By daydreaming, we can observe people close to us on earth. It’s rare, but sometimes dreams show us glimpses of our future.

“In this world, archangels and demons are created spontaneously; there are no families. Rumor has it, Raphael caught a glimpse of you and me in a dream, and fell to earth that very night.”

Wren lifted his mother’s hand and kissed her knuckles. “I need to go back, Mother. If I only get one more chance at life on earth, I want to spend it with my mate. I want a lifetime with Ginger above all else.”

Kora nodded. “Then go with our blessings. I’m very happy for you.” Her breath hitched in her throat. “And proud of you. Be a good mate to your girl. I’ll see you both back here one day, hopefully centuries from now.” She winked.

“Can’t you come with me, Mother?”

“I’m afraid not. For humans, death is a one way street. But I’m okay, don’t worry. One day, your father will return here, and I’ll be waiting.”

Wren gripped her hands. “I’m not even going to remember this, am I?”

“No. Memories never survive the fall.”

Wren tensed, pain clenching his chest like a vise. “What about memories of my life?”

She smiled. “You’ll remember your life, Wren. Like your father, I’ve seen glimpses of the future. I promise, you’ll wake up and recognize your mate.”

Wren took a deep breath. “Come visit us. Ginger and I will both be able to see you. When you feel up to the trip, please come see us. And bring Ginger’s parents as well. Please.”

She kissed his cheek and pulled him to his feet. “I will, son. Now, I can’t in good conscience keep you here while Ginger is mourning for you. If you’re ready, I’ll see you off.”

Wren nodded. Kora kissed him again and held him tightly, then led him by the hand to a large rock that jutted out over the shore. Looking down at the restless waves, Wren sensed that the water was deeper, much deeper, than a few feet.

“I love you.” Kora squeezed his hands and stepped back.

“I love you, Mother.” Wren glanced over the edge in trepidation. “Do I just jump?”

Wren gasped as his mother seized his wings from behind, near their base. She pressed a bare foot into his spine and pushed with incredible strength. Wren heard rather than felt his light-wings rip free of his body. His light dissolved, leaving him and his mother in darkness. He stumbled forward, over the edge.

The ocean swallowed Wren, and he kept descending, picking up incredible speed. Water roared past his ears and his skin felt like it would shred free of his body from the force. Pain overtook him, and freezing cold. Wren pulled his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around himself as he barreled through the seemingly unending darkness.

§

Ginger stared down at more than a hundred tiny flickering lights. All of Sanctuary, every last colonist, lingered on the lawn and gardens around the house, each holding a lit candle. Despite the crowd, silence permeated the air. She stood on the granite deck, wrapped in a blanket against the frigid evening, listening to the reverent silence.

Raphael had stood by her side for a long time but finally turned away, a shadow of the presence he had once been, a shell who could barely stand upright. She was the only person he would speak to, but even for her, he only muttered a word or two. Now he sat inside, his face in his hands.

Devin and Vin stood in the crowd below. Devin met her gaze, his face ashen. Vin stared at the ground. Jac and Lexine stood nearby, studying their flickering candles. The wind picked up, and Ginger’s tears froze against her skin.

The spicy scent of demon fire and smoke carried on the breeze, and Ginger lifted her face to the mountains in the distance. The peak where she and Wren had mated twenty-four hours before was crowned with the blood-red flames. At Raphael’s request, she’s instructed Lark to torch the ruins after setting up Wren’s remains on a funeral pyre. Now, the smoke hung in the sky like an encroaching storm.

Ginger lowered her eyes and exhaled. She stared at her hands, still wrapped in white cloth. She’d wear the white bands for three days, as was tradition. Death would not stop her from honoring her mate.

A sudden, brilliant light banished the darkness. She shielded her eyes. The hundred or so individuals below her look around in confusion. A brilliant star shot across the sky, leaving a curving trail of light in its wake. But unlike common falling stars, which burned out in seconds, the orb grew brighter.

A deafening concussion rocked the atmosphere. The sound reverberated in Ginger’s chest and vibrated the windows. Even the granite below her feet trembled. A collective murmur rose up from the crowd.

Rubbing her ringing ears, Ginger’s gaze tracked the falling star. The blaze descended into the woods north of the house and disappeared behind the trees.

Ginger shuddered as pain slammed into her body. A cry escaped her throat. The sting started at her palms and washed over her skin in waves. She stared at her hands. The agony…it was just like…

…like the mating ceremony.

Blood seeped anew from the barely healed cuts on her palms, staining the white bandages. Ginger staggered and caught herself on the wall of the house.

“Wren?” she whispered and looked toward the woods where the falling star had disappeared. The pain faded and she straightened, stretching her limbs and rubbing her hands.

Raphael appeared in the doorway. As his gaze locked on her bloodied hands, his feathers stood on end.

Ginger sprinted past Raphael into the house, down the stairs, and out the ground level door, pausing only long enough to snatch a demon-fire lantern from a hook. The crowd parted between her and the forest, wide eyes staring from ashen faces, but she barely noticed. Taking in rapid gasps of air, she ran, full tilt, into the woods.

The river snuck up on her as she bolted through a stand of young pine trees and she fell into the icy water. The stumble slowed her only a second. A force that defied her bruised knees and wet clothes kept her on her feet and moving forward.

She sucked in more air. Her throat stung from the cold. “
Wren?
”

She kept running. The mating bonds…yes…she sensed him. She knew exactly where to go in the dark woods. Getting closer. Almost there.

“Wren!”

No answer. She breached a thick cluster of bushes, her sleeve catching on a branch. She spun around, a sharp curse escaping her throat, and ripped the fabric free.

Trying to tame her pounding heart, she entered a small clearing. Towering hemlock trees, their dense branches high off the ground, created a dark area, free of undergrowth. But a branch lay broken on the ground. Nearby, an expanse of white feathers sprawled across the dirt in the darkness.

“Wren?” Could it really be him? She approached the unmoving form, bracing herself for the blast of cold from her psychic talent. Pausing, she waited.

Nothing. No bone deep chill, no fatigue. This wasn’t a spirit before her, but a fallen archangel. More than a hundred years had passed since the last archangel had fallen to earth. The wings covered his or her face, but the black markings near the feather tips where just like Wren’s.

Ginger extended a tentative hand. “Wren? Is it you?”

The archangel stirred and the wings extended to the side. Dark hair. A pale face. Green eyes with a hint of blue at the edges met her stare in the light of the lantern. He pushed himself into a sitting position, shaking uncontrollably.

“Gin-love…”

Ginger threw herself at her mate, all but knocking him over, squeezing him until he wheezed. Naked and covered in goose bumps, he continued to shiver and shudder. He curled his wings forward, enveloping her as he held her tightly in his arms.

“Gin.” He stroked her hair. “I love you. I love you so much.”

“And I love you,” she said, kissing him as his shaking lessened. He held her until she felt they would meld together.

“What happened?” Every muscle tense, he breathed in shallow pants, his breath forming mist in the cold.

She ran her fingers through his feathers, coaxing him to relax. “I was going to ask you that same question.”

“I…” He pressed his eyebrows together and shook his head. “The poacher. How did you escape?”

Ginger sucked in a breath. “You don’t remember any of it?”

He raised his eyebrows. After a pause, he shook his head.

“I killed the poacher. Then Thornton attacked me.” She described the scene in the forest, how he’d saved her from deadly energy drain with a kiss. Wren rubbed his temples as he listened.

“I don’t remember any of that,” he said, his voice thin. “What happened to Trinity?”