A Terrible Fall of Angels by Laurell K. Hamilton

Author:Laurell K. Hamilton [Hamilton, Laurell K.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781984804464
Google: 8VQsEAAAQBAJ
Amazon: 1984804464
Publisher: Berkley
Published: 2021-08-16T23:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Ravensong had propped the hand on the table because it was too heavy to hang at her side. I’d thought the hand would be sized to her, but it wasn’t. It was sized for the nearly ten-foot-tall demon from the hospital hallway, which made it almost cartoonishly large for her. Even my wrist wouldn’t have been thick enough for it, but hers . . . She wasn’t a small woman, but she was still a woman, with everything done a little more delicately. It was like her wrist had swollen to match the hand, but even then, the dark, scaled skin had to be pinched down to set on the pale wrist.

I expected to be traumatized seeing the claws in person, but the pain and fear on Ravensong’s face that she tried so hard to hide from me overrode my own issues.

“Does it hurt?” I asked.

“Everyone keeps asking me that, and the answer is no.”

“Can you move it?” I asked.

She wiggled the fingers for me. “And before you ask, I can lift it, but it’s just heavier than my hand should be, it’s like having to carry one of those stupid kettlebells from the gym forever on the end of your wrist.”

I had to smile at the description, it was so her. The wrist was half hers, but the rest was not. It just didn’t belong. I could see it, everyone could see it, but . . . I turned to Suriel.

“You see it, where they don’t match,” I said.

“We all see it,” Charleston said.

“Not like Zaniel sees it,” she said.

“May I have your permission to do energy work on you, Athena?” I asked.

For once she didn’t tell me to use her last name at work; she just looked up at me, frowned a little, then studied my face, eyes narrowing. “Zaniel, if you can really help fix this, then you have my permission to do anything you need to do.”

I smiled at her, and I felt the first pulse of peace. Sometimes I didn’t know why I denied myself so many of my gifts, and then other times I knew it was guilt, survivor’s guilt, sinner’s guilt, but I wanted to help Ravensong more than I wanted to beat myself up for past sins.

There are always angels around us; they wait to help, to heal, to share God’s grace with us, but they can’t help us unless we ask them to, give them permission to—so do it with me now, say, “Angels around me, I give you permission to help me and help those around me.” There are more formal words, but simple ones will do. Angels only need to be freed to help us; Guardian Angels hover near everyone, and some people have more than one, but they are trapped watching us screw our lives up, unless we allow them to help us. When Suriel, Jamie, and I were about ten we came up with our own shorthand to help the angels to help us.

“Angels up,” I whispered, and just like that I could feel the warmth of them around me.

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