She glances down at her hands and smiles. They’re almost completely solid. The flames are brighter now, and the scent of incense is almost choking.
On the altar, the book waits for me—us.
“You’ve killed too many. Never again.”
I can feel its fear. Its anger.
My whisper’s hands snap to the grimoire’s pages unbidden, and now I’m the one who’s angry.
“No. You’re not in charge anymore. We are.”
All the other whispers lend us their strength. Love fills the room with golden light. The magical flames fight against it, but there is no power in this world greater than love.
“End this,”I say silently, and my whisper smiles. She’s ready. We’reallready.
She splays her fingers wide over the pages. My magic—our magic—flows through her, brighter and hotter with every passing second.
The grimoire fights back, but it knows it won’t win. It can’t.
The ancient pages start to burn. A haunting low cry fills the room until the entire book is on fire. We step back. Watching. Waiting. Until the last of the spelled ink has turned to dust, and the only light in the room is ours.
It’s done. I’m the last Whisper Keeper. The last wielder of the Blade. And now, I’m free.
Gabriel
I sit on a folding chair in the middle of our darkened living room, shirtless, barefoot, wearing only a pair of loose pajama pants. Willow sleeps easily tonight—at least for now—but I have no such boon.
Seraphiel is trying to torture me. That is the only explanation. He should have taken my wings two weeks ago. But I have heard nothing from him. Or Azrael, for that matter. The Angel of Death has been suspiciously absent since breaking all the rules and releasing my soul from death.
I cannot take this torture a moment longer.
“Azrael? Are you there?” I call softly.
The air in the room stills for a split second before he appears in front of me, knocking me—and the chair—halfway to the kitchen.
“I suppose I should have expected that,” I mutter as I get to my feet.
“You have no furniture.” He sweeps his gaze around the apartment, his brows furrowed. “Why do you have no furniture?”
“Because we have not decided what we want yet.” The judgement in his eyes riles my anger. “It is a big decision. With consequences.”
“Consequences?” He huffs. “Go to IKEA and get yourself a couch, Gabriel. It isn’t that hard.”
His words take a moment to register. When they do, I grab his arm. “How doyouknow about IKEA?”
With a chuckle, he shakes off my hold and turns to the windows. “You have a nice view.”
“Fuck the view. Answer me.”
Azrael shrugs. “I like it here. In the earthen realm.“
“Seraphiel would certainly not allow you to spend all your days here?—“
“Seraphiel is not in a position toallowanything at the moment.” Azrael’s lips curve into a wide smile. “The Almighty is quite displeased with him, and he has found himselfreassigned.”
“What the fuck does that mean? He’s a Seraphim. What else would he do but lord over all the other angels?” I am ready to shake my brother. “Are you purposely trying to be as vague as possible? If so, that is a dick move.”
His laugh echoes through the empty room. I send a burst of my power down the hall so he does not wake Willow.
