Page 30 of Fallen Angel

Callan sat on a lounge chair across from her beneath a round window. “The sweetest of dreams to you,” he said, gazing outside. The dock lights blinked, and the wood creaked as the boat rocked against it.

Hannah closed her eyes, and despite the comfort she felt with Callan sitting nearby, the silence brought her mind back to the burdensome realization that she was responsible for her parents’ death. A couple tears slid out from under her closed eyelids, but she didn’t have the strength to wipe them away. She was finally getting the answers she had been waiting for, but she’d carry the revelation with her for the rest of her life. And if the magic within Hannah was the cause of something so tragic, then she would now use it for good.

Drifting off to sleep, she was both nervous and excited to learn even more about her past and the world of magic first thing in the morning.

In the dead of night,Hannah was removed from her bed by Mara’s intruders. She wasn’t Hannah, however, and this wasn’t her world. She was Raven with hair that reached down to her waist, dressed in a simple white sleeping gown. She didn’t resist her captors’ force and went with them willingly.

She was brought to a clearing in the middle of the woods where a wooden post stood tall in front of a clan of darkly dressed men and women—witches. Callan stood next to a tall woman with black hair that blended into the night. He was statuesque and alert, like a soldier standing next to his queen.

Once Raven was bound to the post, the tall woman slowly walked toward her, her red eyes glowing through the darkness.

“I expected more fight coming from a witch such as you,” the woman said. Her voice was deep and powerful, coated in malice.

“There is more than one way to fight back, Mara,” Raven said. Her voice sounded exactly like Hannah’s, but smoother and more composed.

Mara laughed and looked down at Raven as though her words were nonsense and her presence was insignificant. “He is mine now. For good.”

“We shall see,” Raven said, looking past Mara at Callan. Her eyes were sorrowful as she gazed at him, hoping it could break through his impenetrable exterior.

“Indeed, take a long look at your beloved,” Mara said. “For it shall be your last.” She flipped her cloak and returned to Callan’s side among the circle of her creatures and followers. “The life I take in the name of darkness, is that of Raven Harlowe.” Mara began her chant, her voice loud as an announcement to her servants. “May her defiance cause her death, one that is grim and slow.” As Mara proclaimed her spell, Raven muttered something inaudible beneath her breath. “May these eighteen years be her last—in no future lives, shall she grow. Now let the fire blaze and burn, condemning her to eternal woe!”

As soon as Mara’s last word left her mouth, fire erupted around the wooden post and crawled over Raven’s body. She quickly finished whatever she was saying beneath her breath—a prayer, perhaps—then screamed from the heat of the flames. The fire engulfed her until the crackling and hissing blaze drowned out her cries.

Hannah lurched awake,gasping for breath and shrieking at the heat on her skin.

Callan was immediately at her side. “Shhhh,” he said. “It is all right. ’Twas only a dream.” He placed a palm to her cheek, brushing her skin with him thumb.

She bristled and sat up.

He pulled his hand back, balling it in a fist in his lap. “Your skin is burning. I’ll get a cool rag.”

He stood and went to the small bathroom, returning with a wet hand towel. He placed it across her forehead and Hannah reveled in the cool it provided.

“You just stood there!” Hannah clung to the damp towel and pressed it against her forehead. A single tear rolled down her chin.

“What? Stood where?” He shook his head, placing a hand on her shoulder. “’Twas only a dream.”

Hannah peeled the cloth from her head and dabbed it at the base of her neck. “It was a memory. I could feel the flames burning my skin.”

Callan’s face fell.

“I thought you loved her.” She shifted her shoulder from beneath his touch.

His hand hovered for a moment, but he soon brought it to his lap, folding his fingers together. “I was under Mara’s compulsion. Her grasp was too tight.”

“Why didn’t you resist? Raven clearly could.” She swung her legs over the side of the couch and pressed the towel to the back of her neck.

“I was too weak to resist. Raven was special. Her magic was stronger than most.”

“So special that you let her burn alive?” Hannah shrugged off her blanket and rolled up her sleeves.

“I’ve admitted to my weakness.” Callan stood and walked to the window. “Why do you believe I did what I did? Only Raven’s death was able to break the compulsion. Once Mara’s intentions were clear, and I had realized my own wicked acts, I sacrificed myself and all of magic to put an end to it,” he said, running his fist against the windowsill.

Callan’s words snapped Hannah out of her burning rage. Who was she to judge him when she too had been manipulated by Mara’s magic? Granted, she never intentionally killed anyone, but if she allowed dark magic to consumer her, she could see how killing someone would be easy—effortless.

She stood up from the couch and walked over to him. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said those things.”

“All your words are ones I have labored upon.” He set his jaw, focused on the lapping waves outside.

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