Page 106 of The Devil and His Sparrow

Gemma’s eyes slowly blinked, and an excited glimmer briefly lit them with life again when she saw the piano now in her room. “How—”

“I had a feeling you’d like to hear your sister play, so I had it arranged to wheel this in here,” Zagan lied with all the confidence in the world.

Satisfied with the answer, Gemma turned to look at me again. “Can you play it for me?”

It wasn’t even a question. There was nothing I wouldn’t do for her. I just wished I could do more. I wished I had tried harder or been here for her more. I wasn’t sure if not giving her Zagan’s blood would’ve made a difference. She’d already been on a decline with no answers on how to stop her body from slowly attacking itself.

Did giving her Zagan’s blood kill her faster? Had it actually kept her here longer than if we hadn’t tried? Did giving her the blood give her enough life and energy to enjoy these past few weeks to the fullest? I didn’t have the answers to the questions plaguing me, and I probably never would.

One thing I did have, though, was this moment with her. I had time to grant her this last wish.

So with a small nod, I answered, “Okay.”

Chapter 33

Zagan

IYLA’S BARELY CONTAINED PAIN PIERCED me deeper than any arrow ever could. The dark anguish of her heart practically strangled me where I stood, watching her sit on the small stool of the piano I’d conjured. Tears continued their relentless journey down her face as she stared at the piano keys, too lost to the grief to move.

She desperately wanted to take away the death moving in on her sister, and likewise, I wanted to take this pain from her. But not at the cost of killing her. She’d asked the impossible of me, because while she couldn’t lose her sister, I couldn’t lose her. Not like that.

So instead, I stood uselessly to the side.

Iyla finally looked up at her sister. “What would you like to hear?”

Gemma rested among the many blankets and gave Iyla a dreamy sort of grin. “I want to hear that song Dad always played and sang to us and Mom. That Justin Bieber song that Tommee Proffitt made a version of.”

Iyla’s eyes briefly shut like the mere suggestion was already too much. But with a nod, she looked down at the keys, brought her fingers up to them, took a small breath, and started to play. I recognized the song Gemma had requested as “Anyone” as the first notes twinkled into the air, and my heart lurched when Iyla’s sweet voice began to sing. I held my breath, enraptured by her with every sweep of her fingers and every word she sang.

She always told me that when I sang, it did something to her. She said my voice was beautiful, a description I’d never been given. Now I knew how wrong she was, because she … she was beautiful. For a moment, I thought I’d lost touch with reality and somehow stumbled into Heaven to hear an angel singing.

But it was just her.

Just my sparrow.

Her voice cracked on the lyrics about a loved one moving on. Tears stole her voice, and her body hunched forward in an effort to keep singing and playing through the hurt. With her quickly losing the ability to keep going, I moved toward her and began to sing, too. She looked up at me through swollen eyes as I picked up where she couldn’t, though her fingers never stopped their playing.

I sat beside her on the bench and wrapped my arm around the small of her back as the chorus started. She took a deep breath and started singing again, our voices mixing and blending in a harmony unlike any other. Demon and angel—voices filling the room in a song about love and about needing more time.

And as Iyla sang and played for her sister, my own eyes never left Iyla. They were glued to her profile as I sang with her and without her when the tears prevented it. I sang, realizing that every line was for her. Every word was for her.

Even if she didn’t know it.

The song finished, and the room would’ve been silent if not for Iyla’s hiccups and the beeping of Gemma’s machine. We both looked at Gemma, whose eyes had drifted closed at some point. She laid motionless.

I saw the instant fear swarm Iyla’s eyes, but I quickly placed my hand on her back and reassured, “She’s just sleeping.”

Relief washed over her, and it seemed only after I’d pointed it out that Gemma’s minute rise and fall of her chest became clear. Iyla ran her fingers over her wet cheeks and stared hopelessly at her sister. “Do you think it will happen today?” Her voice caught on the last word, and the sound damn near ruined me.

“No,” I answered, and I meant it. I didn’t actually know, but I’d make it true. “It won’t happen today.”

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Then we should let her rest. We can come back tomorrow. Maybe we can bring her that new dragon book that just released. You know, the one the two of you talked about?”

Tomorrow.

I cursed inwardly. If only things had turned out differently.

I cleared my throat of the tightness there and nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, we can do that.”

---