Jovah's Angel Read Online Free PDF Page A

woman. “What’s her name?”
    There was, or seemed to be, a moment of hesitation before Noah answered. “Lilah.”
    â€œAnd I take it she’s not Edori?”
    The faintest laugh. “No.”
    â€œI can hardly wait, then.”
    He did not have to. Even as he spoke, the dulcimer player finished his piece and rose to his feet. An odd sound ran through the crowd—more truly, it seemed as though an excited silence fell over the audience, creating a static charge. Wineglasses stopped clinking. Rustling ceased. Every listener faced the front of the room. A heightened light seemed suddenly to focus on the stage.
    There the back curtains parted as if swept back by invisible hands, revealing the silhouette of a single figure standing mostly in the shadows. Little could be seen of her face, though in the uncertain light she appeared young; her pale oval face was framed by a mass of dark curls. She had her arms crossed high upon her chest, each hand resting on the opposite shoulder in an almost suppliant attitude. She was dressed in flowing robes that, because of her unmoving stance, fell around her like the marble gown of a statue. Behind her, folded tightly back, angel wings made their peculiar and beautiful rise and curve. She looked like nothing so much as an effigy upon a tomb, an eternal prayer to Jovah for mercy.
    Caleb glanced sharply at his friend. “She’s an angel? Or is that just an affectation for this place?”
    Noah motioned him to silence, not answering, not taking his eyes off the performer. Caleb swung his attention back to the stage. Lilah had taken a step forward and swept her arms before her, palms upward, in another gesture of entreaty. From somewhere out of sight came the plaintive, disembodied sound of a single flute playing a melancholy scale.
    It was hard to tell exactly when the singer joined her voice to the flute’s, for surely they exhaled two or five or seven notes in flawless unison, till the woman’s voice broke free of the pipe’s and climbed above it in a series of minor intervals. Her song was wordless, her voice as pure and uninflected as the silver flute, and the overall effect was absolutely unearthly. Caleb felt his heart twist with an inexplicable malaise, and he was swept by a wave of deep and unutterable regret for all the missed opportunities of his life, all the friends lost and years too easily wasted. It was a gentle sadness without the slightest hint of bitterness, but he wasshocked at its thoroughness. As the eerie voice soared higher, its sweetness thinning till it almost faded, he took a long, unsteady breath. So might a man feel who had spent the night sobbing over vanished love.
    Simultaneously, both voices trailed to a breathless silence. There was no motion, no sound, from the stricken crowd. The singer, who had bowed her head as she finished her song, raised her chin and took a step forward to the edge of the stage. She surveyed the audience for a moment—and, unbelievably, laughed.
    â€œWelcome once again to the unique entertainment you have come to expect here at Seraph,” she said, and in the dulcet voice was the unmistakable taint of sarcasm. She tossed her hair back and flicked her eyes around the room, assessing the expressions of her audience. Many, Caleb guessed, surely looked as he did—like coma victims coming to in a much stranger world than they remembered leaving. This was not the persona one would have expected of a woman with such a celestial voice. “I’m Lilah, I’m the one you came to hear, even if you don’t know it yet. Don’t bother writing down your requests, I just sing whatever I feel like. If I don’t sing what you came to hear—well, feel free to come back tomorrow night and every other night until I’ve satisfied you all.
    â€œBoys?” she added, without a pause or change of tone, and suddenly a hidden band broke into a fast-paced melody that Caleb