Page 76 of Fallen Angel

“I do love you,” Hannah said.

“I know you love me. I love you too. But I do not desire this to be something we do simply because you think you have a deadline. It should be a celebration. Not a possible farewell.”

Hannah couldn’t negate Callan’s argument, because shewascoming from a place of fear. What if in a matter of hours, her heart stopped beating again? She was already given a second chance at life, and she didn’t want to waste it.

“I know,” she said. She moved off of Callan and couldn’t help but pout a bit.

Callan wrapped his arm around Hannah’s shoulders. “You shall not die. Trust me.” He kissed the side of her forehead.

“We aren’t in the 1600s anymore. Maybe lessshallsand morewills.” Hannah offered him a smile. The clock blinked 6:06 p.m. All they could do now was wait.

The next few hours crawled by. In order to distract themselves, they went for dinner at the Harbor House cafeteria and walked aimlessly around campus. The entire time, Hannah feared that this might be the last time she would see all of this. The last time she would hear the ocean crash along the cliffs, smell the sea salt in the cool, fall air, or hold the hand of the man she loved.

Long after the sun went down, Hannah and Callan returned to her room. The clock read 11:52 p.m., and Hannah could feel her heart beating fast against her chest. She couldn’t tell if it was because she was nervous, or if it was the starting signs of a heart attack.

“I need to call my uncle,” she said. She pulled out her cell phone and dialed. “Hey, Paul, it’s me.” Hannah had called her uncle since coming back to life, but they were quick and vague conversations. She didn’t know what to tell him or how to express everything she had newly discovered since arriving at Bellcliff, so their conversations consisted of niceties and platitudes about being new to college life and how everything was going fine. With another pending death staring Hannah in the face, however, she needed to tell him something very important.

“No, I can’t sleep. You know, birthday excitement and all. I just wanted to tell you something.” She looked at Callan and smiled. “I have a boyfriend.” The phrase sounded so juvenile, but there was no other way to spin it. “His name is Callan, and I’d love for you to meet him some day.”

If Hannah died, perhaps Callan could be the one to tell everything to her uncle. He deserved some semblance of the truth. And if this was Hannah’s last conversation with her Uncle Paul, she wanted him to know that she was happy and living a normal college life.

Hannah laughed into the phone. “Yes, he is very handsome and very kind. You’d like him a lot.”

Callan grinned.

“And I just wanted to thank you. For all you have done for me since Mom and Dad…” She nodded. “Yes, everything is fine,” she said, feeling some tears well behind her eyes. “Just get emotional around birthdays.” The clock read 11:58 p.m. “Anyway, I better go to sleep now. Love you, Paul. Goodnight.” Hannah hung up the phone and placed it on her bedside table. Tears tumbled down her cheeks.

“It will be all right. Come here.” Callan pulled her into his arms. He trembled as he held her. This was exactly where she wanted to die—here in Callan’s arms. She looked at the clock over Callan’s shoulder: 11:59 p.m.

Her mind raced. Perhaps she should have spent the last few days trying to concoct a spell that would have guaranteed her survival past her eighteenth birthday. After all, with Mara gone, she was the most powerful witch left in the world. But after everything her and Callan went through, she was tired. She just wanted to be with him—experience life unburdened by the amazing magic she may soon be without. After they returned Mara’s grimoire beneath the stone slat in the library and sealed it with a spell, Callan had convinced her to relax. She was certain that the book would be safe there, only accessible to her or Callan if they needed it, and so she forced herself to stop worrying. But now, when she was faced with her own mortality, yet again, she didn’t feel ready to accept it. She finally knew who she was and had gotten a taste of what life could be like. It didn’t have to be sad and tragic. It could be filled with self-discovery, adventure, and cosmic love. It could be magical.

Hannah buried her face against Callan’s shoulder and squeezed her eyes shut, pressing a small tear down her freckled cheek. When she felt Callan’s chest sink with a relieved sigh, however, she opened her eyes.

The clock blinked: 12:01 a.m.

Hannah exhaled, not even realizing that she had been holding her breath. Relief flooded her body, goosebumps crawling up and down her skin. Tears welled behind her eyes, and she couldn’t help but beam with joy.

“How do you feel?” Callan asked, his eyes glassy.

“I feel…good.” Hannah could feel the light she was converged with two years ago, a warm current beneath her skin. And though being turned into a Siren was a scar of darkness that she and Callan would always wear, it would challenge them to choose light every day.

Callan kissed her and pinned her onto the bed. Hannah wrapped her arms around him. She soaked in his scent and the love she felt in this moment.

Her skin glowed with tiny white orbs, drifting from her skin and sparking in the air.

“Can we celebrate now?” Hannah asked, a suggestive grin on her face.

Callan laughed and nodded.

She wrapped her legs around his hips and pulled his head closer to hers. They enraptured themselves in each other.

She pulled away and stared into Callan’s beautiful green eyes.

This was her fresh start.

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