Ballad of Blood: Book 5 in the Spellsinger Series

by Amy Sumida

  “Score one for the griffin,” Declan agreed. “but the day has just begun, Brothers. We have hours yet to get even.”

  “And just like that, the romance is ruined,” I sighed. “Try not to act like buffoons when you meet Raphael, or he'll think he has a chance with me.”

  “Right; no making jokes around the angel,” Banning said. “We're all grown, mature men; I think we can handle that.

  And you're screwed again, the RS declared.

  I ignored the RS and held my hands out to my consorts. We formed a line, and then I took us through the Veil to Excommunicated.

  But I had a feeling RS was right; this was turning out to be a day I got screwed in only bad ways.

  Chapter Forty-One

  After I introduced the men, the first thing Banning said was, “You don't look like an angel.”

  Raphael smirked and suddenly he was larger; his skin became poreless and perfect, his hair gleamed, his dark eyes lightened into a rich, sapphire blue; so luminous they appeared to be glowing, and a pair of pristine, white wings burst into being behind him. It was such a grand transformation that I felt as if it should have been accompanied by choir music.

  We all gaped at Raphael, but I especially stared. I looked from Raph to Torin and back again in shock; they closely resembled each other. I mean, obviously Torin didn't have wings, and their features were different, but their coloring and build were spot on.

  “Well, it appears that Elaria has a type, after all,” Declan noted with pursed lips.

  “I've never seen this version of him,” I protested.

  “Still, there it is.” Gage waved his hand at the fairy king and his angel twin.

  Raphael and Torin were staring at each other with fascinated looks; like men looking into a funhouse mirror. The reflections weren't quite right, but they were close enough to be convincing.

  “This is fucking bizarre,” Cerberus declared.

  “You're telling me,” I murmured.

  “All this time that I've known you, and your eyes have been blue?” Cerberus went on. “Blue, not brown? You're like a totally different person.”

  “Seriously, Cer?” Gage chuckled. “The guy has a wingspan nearly the size of mine, and you're shocked by his eyes?”

  “I knew about the wings.” Cer shrugged. “Wings are a dime a dozen in the Beneath. But eyes like that are rare.”

  I looked at Torin and smiled; yes, they are. And Torin had never hidden his eyes from me. He'd never hidden anything from me. From the very beginning, Torin had been brutally honest, even when he was trying to convince me to help him. I realized then that there was a reason I'd fallen so hard, so fast, for Torin, and it was the same reason that would make me choose him over Raphael every time. Torin was unapologetically himself; even when he believed that he was something shameful, he showed himself to me. Torin gave me everything he had, and instead of being embarrassed by his faults and hiding them, he laid them bare and simply loved me more for accepting them.

  Each of my men is special, and I could go on forever about what made them so. But I think it's enough to say that I appreciated them more at that moment—comparing them directly to a man whom I had once thought could be everything to me—than I ever had. Because I finally saw the little pieces of them that I had instinctively fallen for.

  I believe we all fall in love subconsciously; sensing things about our lovers that draws us closer. When you press us to explain why we love someone, it becomes difficult. We have to try to describe those perceptions by pointing out the way our lover behaves. We say things like “he's honorable” or “he's a caring person” when the truth is that we connected with someone for thousands of little reasons that were so subtle, we aren't even aware of them. Those traits that we admire are just the physical representations of what we sensed. In short, I loved Torin because he was Torin, and the same went for Declan, Banning, and Gage. They were the men I was meant to be with.

  Not Raphael.

  As beautiful and wonderful as Raph was, and as poignant as my memories of him were, I simply didn't love him in the same way that I loved the others. I didn't connect with him like that, and he obviously hadn't felt that for me either. If he had, I would have already seen his true form.

  Suddenly, the situation wasn't so awkward.

  Torin smiled at me as if he knew exactly what I was thinking. He definitely knew what I was feeling; they all could feel my emotions through the RS bond if those emotions were strong enough, or if I was physically close to them. So, I suppose Torin did know what I was thinking. And, in true Torin fashion, he acknowledged it immediately with a nod, showed me subtly how much it moved him with a soft smile, and then moved on. As honest as he was with me, Torin didn't like sharing private emotions in public. Those were treasures to be hoarded between us; in the cage of our love.

  I finally looked back at Raphael and saw him staring at me with a melancholic expression. He smiled sadly at me and nodded in acceptance. I'd never had a good poker face, and I'm certain that Raphael had clearly seen the difference in the way I had loved him versus the way I now loved Torin. Despite his protests, Raph had harbored some hope, and now, that hope was gone.

  “Okay, we get it,” Gage dispersed the tension. “You're an angel; good for you. You can put the wings away.”

  “Actually, I can't.” Raphael inhaled deeply and transferred his stare to Gage. “To get into Heaven, I need to be in full angelic form.”

  “So, they agreed to meet us?” I asked.

  “The Seraphim—the angels who govern us—agreed to meet with Elaria Tanager, the Spellsinger,” Raphael corrected. “I'm sorry, but they refused to allow your consorts to attend.”

  I looked at my guys, and they nodded. They might bitch and tease, but when it came down to it, they trusted me. They found some seats in the bar and sat down.

  “We'll just wait here with Cerberus,” Gage said.

  “What?” Cerberus gaped at Raphael. “I can't go either?”

  “I don't know why, but they wouldn't let me bring a hellhound into Heaven,” Raphael said sarcastically.

  Cerberus grimaced. “Fucking angels.”

  “Elaria?” Raphael held a hand out to me. “You ready to talk to the Seraphim?”

  “I hope so,” I said as I took his hand. “Or this is going to be embarrassing for both of us.”

  Raphael smiled and eased me in against his chest.

  “Hold onto me,” he murmured.

  A shiver of energy ran along my skin, and the room around us started to go hazy; becoming a ghostly image of itself. I wrapped my arms around Raphael's shoulders as he lifted his gaze and his wings. A thud sounded as his wings descended, and we rose. Every beat took us higher; through the sparkling mist of the Veil and up to Heaven.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  “This is Heaven?” I asked dubiously.

  Raphael laughed. “Not what you expected?”

  “Hardly.” I stared up and down the street at the shiny storefronts with their tasteful displays. “This is a shopper's heaven, I suppose.”

  The street we stood on was formed of gold bricks and was decorated with large planters of blooming rose bushes—only white—in regimental lines. Where was a bucket of red paint when you needed it? I wouldn't mind splattering the white lampposts either; just for funsies. Angels strolled down the street in glamorous outfits; often pausing to peer in shop windows or enter the stores. Most had their wings out and were in full angelic form; as Raphael was. They were the most heavenly looking part of Heaven.

  Above us, the sky was robin's egg blue and patterned with fluffy clouds. Birds chirped as if it were just another day in paradise, but I didn't see a single spot of bird poop marring the metal road. I suppose heavenly birds knew better than to poop on gold.

  “Are you messing with me right now?” I asked Raphael.

  “I wish I were.” Raphael grimaced. “This is what my people choose to do with their time. They've become so wealthy that their lives have become centered around
that wealth. Conversations revolve around ways to be pampered or have every desire fulfilled. The Host gave permanent passes to Beneathers who were able to import the finest wares, and they were allowed to set up shops here. You can buy anything you wish in Heaven; from a new pair of shoes to a slave.”

  I lost my smile and turned my head slowly to face him. “What was that last part?”

  “You heard me,” he confirmed. “I told you that my people were shameful bastards; owning slaves is just the tip of the angel iceberg. Anything you can buy—from any inhabited planet—you can buy here. Heaven has become an elite marketplace. This is one of the tamer streets, but if I took you fifty feet in that direction”—he pointed down a side street—“we could purchase magic-infused narcotics, poison strong enough to kill an immortal, and liquor that will knock a god on his ass. Sometimes, it's hard to tell which is which. Come on; people are starting to stare.”

  Raphael took my hand as he put his wings away. I lifted a brow at him.

  “I don't want you to stand out so much,” he explained. “The last thing we need is to get mobbed before we reach the temple.”

  “Temple?”

  “Where the Seraphim preside,” he said. “They're gathering now to meet with you.”

  “Best not to keep them waiting then,” I said. “The slave-owning sons of bitches. As if stealing their money isn't bad enough, they take humans as slaves too? That's reprehensible.”

  “Not just humans,” he said. “If they can be controlled, they can be enslaved; several races are sold here.”

  “I don't even have a response for that,” I stuttered. “Except to say; those elitist bastards!”

  Raphael smirked. “I tried to tell you, El. There was a reason I kept you out of this.”

  “And why you drank so much,” I added. “Were you drinking the shit you can get here?”

  Raph grimaced. “It's hard for me to get drunk off human alcohol.” He stopped and took both of my hands as he faced me. “I'm sorry for how I treated you. I don't even remember half the shit I did or said, but I'm sure it was all bad. I just had this ache I needed to dull; partially from what I am and partially due to keeping it from you. Can you forgive me?”

  “I already have, Raph,” I said softly. “I'll stop bringing it up.”

  Raphael let go of one of my hands and started leading me up the street again. “You have every right to bring it up. I don't expect your forgiveness to come with instant forgetting. You deserve to say anything you like about our past, and ask anything; if there's something else you wanted to know.”

  “That night in Rome,” I whispered. “Do you remember that?”

  Raphael swallowed convulsively. “Yeah; I remember. It was one of the best nights of my life.”

  “Then let's hold onto that memory, and the ones like it,” I said gently. “I think I'm ready to forget the bad shit.”

  Raphael slid me a soft smile. “You have mellowed.”

  “No one can be angry forever.” I shrugged.

  “Is that it?” He asked. “Or is it because you're finally happy? It's hard to be angry when you're happy.”

  “Maybe.” I grinned. “I haven't thought about it, but now that I am considering it; I can't recall the last time I felt bitter about my life. No, wait; I know exactly when that was.”

  Raphael lifted his brows at me.

  “Torin and I broke up for awhile,” I said. “That was a dark period for me, but I don't recall behaving badly.”

  “No?” He asked in surprise. “No temper tantrums involving knives, or worse; songs?”

  “No.” I made a sound of disbelief. When I thought about the person I used to be, I was just as shocked as Raph by my transformation. “I don't think it's merely happiness; it's just where life took me. I learned some hard lessons and discovered who would stick by me through them. I got confident, then lost my confidence, and finally regained it with a measure of humility. I fell in love, lost that too, and regained that with a measure of gratitude. I've been through some horrible things, Raph, but I've also experienced some astoundingly beautiful things, and I've learned to appreciate them both.”

  Raphael looked over my face with even more surprise and a little pride. “You've become a fascinating woman, Elaria. I wish I had been one of the people who had stuck by you, and one of the loves you had regained.”

  “Me too, Raph,” I agreed, but it was one of those things you say just to be kind to people. I knew that I was right where I needed to be, with exactly the people I needed to have with me.

  Raphael let the lie slide with a squeeze of his hand and kept strolling. Then we passed by a street that stopped me in my tracks. I let go of Raph's hand to double back. Raphael groaned and hurried after me.

  “Don't look down there, El,” Raphael snatched my hand back. “You don't need to see that shit.”

  “Are they actually having sex mid-air?” I cocked my head to stare up at the couple doing naked acrobatics in the sky.

  “Yep.” He sighed. “That's Erotic Alley; anything goes down there. There are nightclubs, sex clubs, and fight clubs; all the dirtiest clubs you can think of. Then there are the slave auctions, the slave fighting pits, and the slave whorehouses. They have every possible way to get your rocks off.”

  “Let's go look,” I suggested.

  Raphael gaped at me.

  “I'm joking.” I laughed at him. “I honestly want no part of that.” I pointed to the angels getting-down up-high; the male angel was sucking on his lady-friend's big toe.

  Raphael laughed in relief and led me past the lane.

  “Does anyone live here, or is it all one big shopping mall?” I asked.

  “Palaces surround the shopping district,” Raphael said. “Most angels reside in Heaven. Only the rebellious ones like myself live on Earth.”

  “I can see why you would,” I said. “This is beyond hedonism; it's an utter disregard for anything but pleasure. Pleasure at any cost; to themselves or others. It's offensive on so many levels.”

  “Exactly,” he agreed.

  “Except for those shoes.” I pointed into a shop window at a pair of black leather mary janes with silver wings on the heels and a unicorn horn on each toe. “Those are just ridiculous.”

  Raphael burst out laughing. “I forgot how funny you are.”

  “Usually at the worst possible moments,” I said.

  “Yes; it's all coming back to me.” He smirked. “That time the hippies came into the club—”

  “It was just a bar back then,” I reminded him.

  “Yes; the days when I didn't have to worry about hiring DJs to entertain Beneathers,” he huffed. “Oh, how I miss those days.”

  “I recall the hippies... they were harpies,” I said with a chuckle of remembrance. “Hippie Harpies high on LSD.” I giggled. “One of them was wearing a red, tie-dye shirt.”

  “And you told her you had the same shirt, except yours was dyed with the blood of your ex-boyfriends,” he finished. “You said they had died to dye your shirt.”

  “They were Harpies,” I huffed. “Harpies are vicious; I thought they'd enjoy the joke.”

  “How could you have known that those harpies had given up violence to join the peace movement?” Raphael said sympathetically and then started laughing again.

  “I thought they'd never stop screaming at me.” I shook my head. “Harpy screams are not fun.”

  “Yes; I was there,” he said. Then he pointed to a massive structure at the end of the road. “And we are here; the Temple of the Angelic Host. Welcome to Heaven, Elaria. And by that I mean; prepare yourself for Hell.”

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Every step deeper into Angel territory made me agree even more with Raphael's assessment of his people. The fact that our journey culminated in a building that these shopaholics dared to call a temple, just pissed me off. But I reminded myself what was at stake and strode through the gleaming, pearly gates—I kid you not; there were pearl-colored gates—with my shoulders set in dete
rmination.

  Raphael led me through polished hallways that were bright enough to blind and past groups of angels that gave him reprimanding looks. He had unfurled his wings before we went through the gates, but he was dressed in a pair of worn jeans and a T-shirt that boasted a picture of a cat with red, demon eyes and the words: “Satan is my homeboy” emblazoned across it. It hadn't occurred to me that his outfit might offend the Angels even more than the fact that he was bringing an outsider into their midst.

  “I need this to go well,” I whispered to Raphael. “Can you turn your shirt inside out or something?”

  “You think that an inside-out T-shirt will anger them less than my devil cat?” He asked with his trademark, lopsided smile.

  “Raph,” I groaned.

  “Fine.” He pulled off the shirt and turned it inside out; showing off an incredible set of abs before he pulled the shirt back on.

  “Better,” I proclaimed as I looked over the shadowy blotches of the devil cat. “It looks more like modern art now.”

  “I'm so glad you approve,” Raphael said as he offered me his arm. “Shall we, my lady?”

  “I'm a queen now.” I smirked at him. “Didn't Cerberus tell you?”

  Raphael blinked in surprise. “No, we didn't get too far into our conversation before I felt you arrive. What are you queen of?”

  “Kyanite,” I said. “A Jewel Kingdom in Tír na nÓg.”

  “How the fuck is that possible?” He stopped walking again to gape at me.

  “It's a long story.” I shook my head. “We don't have time for it now.”

  “From Spellsinger to Fairy Queen,” he whispered. “It seems that I've missed a lot.”

  “It's been an interesting decade,” I said and nodded my head forward to indicate that we should get a move on.

  Raphael processed my status as we walked the rest of the way to the meeting room. There were a couple of angels guarding the door, and they saluted Raphael when we stepped up to them.