Page 25

She approaches me. Slowly this time. There’s none of the playful enthusiasm from earlier.

No rubbing my horns or calling me a stingy bastard. She simply reaches out and places her hand against my cheek.

Her palm is warm. Soft. I feel it.

Not the distant pressure I remember from the first transformation. I actually feel her skin against mine.

The sensation is so extraordinary that for a moment, I cannot think.

Then the magic moves. Heat spreads through my chest. My stone fingers soften. My wings retract. And suddenly I’m falling forward.

April squeaks.

I catch myself on the railing. With hands. Actual hands. I stare at them. Five fingers on each. Skin, knuckles, nails instead of claws.

A small scar across my left thumb from an accident in my father’s workshop when I was seventeen. I’d forgotten about that scar. I’d forgotten so many things.

The warmth of the evening air. The smell of the trees. The way my lungs expand when I breathe.

I draw in a breath. Then another. And another. I could get drunk on the air alone.

“Gabriel?” April’s voice pulls me back.

I look at her.

She’s standing inches away. Her hand is still against my cheek. Her eyes are wide. And she’s smiling. A beautiful, delighted smile.

“Oh my God. It worked.”

I can only stare. Because she is truly beautiful. But also she’s right. It worked.

I am human once more. I close my eyes. For one impossible moment, I simply stand there and breathe. The breeze moves over my skin.

I hear insects in the trees. Somewhere below us, a car passes on the road.

And April’s hand is warm against my face.

“Are you okay?” she asks softly.

I open my eyes. “No.”

Her smile fades. “Oh.”

I catch her wrist before she can pull away. “Don’t.”

She freezes.

I realize how that sounds. I loosen my grip. “Please.”

The word is unfamiliar in my mouth. I was never particularly good at asking for things. I preferred demanding them.

But right now, I would beg this woman to keep touching me.

She studies my face. Then she nods. “Okay.”

Her hand remains against my cheek.

I close my eyes again. And for several seconds, I allow myself to enjoy the simple miracle of being alive.