“Why?” Malachi asked. “Barak is dead. Why do they care what you do?”
“My mere existence is heresy. I’m the one telling the Grigori they can live without reducing themselves to murderous animals. That there is another way.”
“But not a way the Fallen are happy about.”
“How could they be?” Kostas asked. “In order for the Grigori to be free, the Fallen must die.”
“I’M not kareshta,” Ava said later as they lay in bed. “I thought at first that I was, but I’m not.”
They’d avoided the scribe house in Sofia, not wanting to explain their presence if it might compromise Max’s promise of secrecy to Kostas and Kyra. Instead, they’d found a small hotel near the highway and taken two rooms. They were threadbare, but clean.
“You’re not kareshta, but…?”
“There is something. Kyra feels familiar. Her voice sounds right, if that makes any sense.”
“Her magic feels the same as yours.”
“Yes, I think that’s it.”
Malachi hadn’t said anything, but he’d sensed the same thing. More, Kostas’s sister gave off the same nervous energy that Ava had been drowning in before she’d learned to shield herself from the soul voices of the humans around her.
He wrapped her in his arms, shaken by the truths they’d discovered that night.
For Malachi, it changed everything.
He was forced to see the Grigori in a new light. Yes, most or all of them were still victimizing humans, but they were also victims themselves. And some, like Kostas, appeared to be trying to change things. His black-and-white world had been thoroughly washed in grey. But in the confusion, his scattered mind focused on a kernel of hope.
If Ava had Grigori blood, how different could they be?
“You’re not kareshta,” Malachi agreed. “But it wouldn’t matter to me if you were. You know that, don’t you?”
“Yes.” She snuggled deeper into his side. “I can hear you.”
There was a dark edge to her magic. The visions that came to her were unlike anything Irina experienced. But Ava was good. Not perfect, but good. Her heart was warm and generous. She was protective. Courageous.
His.
She reached out with her magic, and it was as if small hands stroked him from head to toe. He shivered with wanting her, but Ava was too deep in thought.
“I think my grandmother must have been one of them. That might be why my father locked her away. Tried to hide her. Kyra said that many of the kareshta end up in mental institutions because people think they’re crazy.”
“That makes sense.” He’d come to the same conclusion, but he knew she needed to work it out in her own mind.
“Yeah, it makes sense.”
He felt her shoulders shaking before he heard her cry. “Shhh, Ava.” He stroked her back, pulling her so tight to his chest that he was worried she would bruise. Her pain was a stab in the heart.
“They’re out there,” she said. “Others like me. Those are the stars in Jaron’s vision. Out in the darkness, Malachi. So many of them. And so horribly alone.”
“I know, Ava.”
“We have to find them.”
Could finding the kareshta be a way out of this never-ending war? Could Grigori society turn into something like the Irin? Kostas had said that those Grigori who had contact with their sisters were more stable. Had more control. If they could find more of the female Grigori—teach them to protect their minds—would it change their enemies as Kostas hoped?
What was the alternative? Endless, blood-soaked war? Generation after generation caught in the same vicious cycle? His own son continuing the slaughter of a people Malachi was starting to believe were more like his own than he wanted to admit?
The Irin Council’s policy had remained unchanged for thousands of years. Scribes protected the human population from the Grigori, killing them any time they attacked. But with a few exceptions, the Fallen themselves were never targeted. Why? Malachi had always assumed they were simply too hard to kill. But could there be another motive for tacitly allowing them to exist?
What power would the council have without an enemy to fight?
“We need to go back to Italy,” Ava said. “We have to find my grandmother. I refuse to let Jasper stonewall me. If she’s like me, she’s been living with voices her whole life, Malachi. There must be something I can do.”
Ava’s conscience would never allow her to let another live in the torment she’d faced for over twenty years.
“We’ll go to Italy,” Malachi said. “We’ll find a flight to Genoa in the morning. I think it’s only six hours or so with connections. We can be there by tomorrow night.”
It was a good thing Max’s forger was competent. Their fake passports were getting more than a little mileage.
“Do you think my grandmother is in Italy?”
“Honestly? No. Italian hospitals are the first Rhys checked because your father tends to take his holidays there. None of them match the information we have. But we are going to Italy, and we are going to find her.”
“How—?”
“We tried getting information from Jasper and got nothing.” Malachi smiled in the darkness. “I think it’s time to talk to the man who holds his keys.”
Chapter Ten
THEY TOOK A FLIGHT to Genoa the next morning and were driving by late afternoon. Ava had a hard time sleeping. Part of her wanted to find her grandmother, but another part wanted to be back in Bulgaria. Only Kyra’s urging had allowed her to leave.
“Go. Find your grandmother. You know who and what she is now. You can help her.”
Ava had wanted to start lessons immediately. She’d wanted to find the old monastery Kyra had spoken of where thirty Grigori women hid from the world and the madness that lurked on the edges of their lives.
Kostas and Malachi had refused. Kostas, out of distrust; Malachi, out of concern.
It was too soon, her mate said. They needed to think. Needed to plan. How could they risk putting Irin knowledge into Grigori hands? Ava knew Max and Renata agreed, even though they clearly trusted Kostas and Kyra more than Malachi did.
Her brain knew he was right, but her heart had other ideas.
For Ava, meeting Kyra had been like looking in a mirror. It wasn’t her looks, because the woman’s angelic beauty was nothing like her own. In fact, Ava was almost resentful she’d gotten all the mental anguish of Grigori blood without the excellent skin tone.
Oh well.
It was her eyes. Kyra said all the female Grigori had gold eyes like their angelic fathers, but it was more than that. The pain was the same. The constant stress of hearing. The ache of being other. Kyra, like Ava, had lived most of her life alone, though she’d been lucky enough to have a brother. She spoke of Kostas with a fierce and protective admiration, as if daring anyone to think badly of him.
Ava didn’t think badly of the renegade Grigori. She didn’t know what to think.
It was hard not to be wary.
While Kostas’s men didn’t exude the voracious hunger of the Grigori that had stalked her and killed Malachi, they were still clearly the sons of the Fallen. The seductive features were there. The scent of sandalwood that lured her. Their hunger was in their eyes, even though it wasn’t layered with blind rage.
But they were also different from their brethren. Did they exude tension? Yes. But it was controlled.
“Ava?”
“Hmm?” She glanced at Malachi as he drove them toward Portofino.
“Why don’t you try to sleep?”
“I’m too wound up.”
“Try, canım. We don’t know what this day will be like.”
“More warrior lessons?”
He smiled, fine wrinkles appearing around his eyes. “Yes, like they taught us in school. Eat when you can. Sleep when you can. Fu—”
“I get it.” She reached over and slapped a hand over his mouth. “Bad man. They didn’t teach you that in school.”
&nbs
p; “The professors might not have, but the older boys did,” he said as he peeled her hand away and kissed her palm. The smile fell from his face.
“What is it?”
“The Grigori have all this power—all this natural magic—and they have no control over it. I think it would be better to be human.”
“Do you have to make it sound like that’s the worst thing in the world? Being human? I was one, you know.”
He gave her a raised eyebrow. Oh, those eloquent raised eyebrows her man offered.
“You know what I mean,” he said. “If they were human, they’d have no magic, but at least they’d live a normal life.”
She squeezed his hand.
“No mates,” he continued. “No children, except those they sire by accident, and what kind of relationship would they be able to have with them? They’ve had thousands of years to be hungry with no relief. I’d never thought about that before. I cannot imagine the rage they must feel. To have so much power and no control. To live only to be a slave for the Fallen.”
“They’re no innocents, Malachi. They hunted me. They killed you. They’ve killed thousands of humans. They seduce them, rape them, and—more often than not—kill them.”
“I know.”
“And you feel sorry for them?”
“No.” He paused. “Yes. Some. I feel sorry for some of them. Those who are trying to live peacefully but are caught on the other side of a battle they don’t want. I feel sorry for the children.”
“Do you think we can make the council see that?”
“I don’t know.”
They both fell silent.
When Malachi spoke again, his voice was low. “How will we make them see when I have trouble accepting it myself? Grigori killed my parents. Slaughtered our women and children. I cannot forgive that.”
“Bitterness only hurts you,” she said, echoing a lesson her mother taught her after she’d learned the truth about her father. “You can forgive without forgetting.”
He reached over and played with a curl of her hair. “My wise woman. What would I do without you?”
“Have a peaceful, normal life?”
Malachi grinned. “Now why would I want that?”
SHE caught him strapping two knives to his torso a few hours later. “What do you need those for?”
They’d settled into their hotel in Portofino and searched online to find directions to Luis Martin’s house.
She knew going after Luis was a good idea. Her father’s manager knew everything about Jasper’s life and didn’t trip her emotional wires. Rhys had found he was staying at a villa outside the harbor town a few towns over from Jasper. Malachi was confident. Ava was… unsure, but had agreed to follow Malachi’s lead.
According to Rhys’s research, Luis Martin used his credit card almost every night at a small tavern in the town. The card was swiped around eleven o’clock every time it was used. It matched what Ava knew about Luis’s habits. He was a very predictable man.
“Malachi?”
“Hmm?”
“The knives? Why are you taking knives?”
Malachi ignored her. He finished settling the straps around his shoulders before he came to kiss her forehead.
“Reshon, how many times have you asked Luis for his help getting information?”
“Between the phone calls and e-mails? A lot.”
“And has he given it to you?”
“You know he hasn’t, but I don’t want you to hurt him.”
He chucked her under the chin. “Don’t be silly. I won’t need to hurt him.”
“So why—”
“I just need to scare him a little.” He reached into his suitcase and took out another knife, flipping it in his fingers before he tucked it in his waistband.
She walked to him, putting a hand on his forearm. “Babe, I really don’t think—”
He stopped her mouth with a hard kiss. “Enough. He has information you need. Information you have a right to. You can reveal your power by using the spell Orsala taught you—”
She stepped back. Ava hadn’t realized Malachi knew about the spell.
“Yes, I know about the spell. You can use that, but it risks Martin knowing you’re not a normal human. That leaves me with the option of playing the brute.”
“You’re not a brute!”
He gave her a wicked grin. “I can be when I want.” He put a finger to her lips when she went to object again. “Enough. We’re doing this my way. We’re getting the information. And I promise you, all Luis Martin will have is some soiled sheets and a bit of embarrassment. Happy?”
She probably should have objected harder to terrorizing Luis….
But it wasn’t as if the man couldn’t be a huge asshole when it suited him. He was Jasper’s manager. Ava figured he probably had it coming.
AVA watched Malachi—dressed completely in black—as he stood at Luis’s door. It was a villa he’d rented for the month, but it appeared to have top-notch security. Ava recognized the logo on the keypad Malachi was fiddling with. Her stepfather used the same company for his homes.
“Babe, you realize this system—”
“Mmhmm.”
“So I know you cut the landline, but—”
Malachi muttered something in Turkish, and Ava frowned. Leaning forward, she noticed the small wireless earbud he must have slipped in during their walk to the villa.
He was talking to someone on the other end. Probably Rhys.
“Yes. Tell me when,” he said in a low voice. A few more seconds, then Malachi pushed a seven-digit code into the keypad, and Ava heard a small whooshing sound that sounded like a seal being released. He turned the knob and the door opened quietly.
“Dogs?” he asked her.
“He’s allergic.”
He walked into the house, holding her hand but moving ahead of her as he scanned each room.
“How did you get past the retina scan?” she asked.
“Rhys was able to override with an emergency password. We have five minutes before they call to confirm his safety.”
“How did Rhys get his password?”
“Because Luis Martin had a folder on his home server labeled Passwords.”
Okay, he was just asking to get robbed. Ava felt slightly less guilty.
They started up the stairs. Ava could hear someone snoring loudly.
“I feel like it should bother me more that you’re so good at breaking and entering.”
“Why?” Apparently, Malachi was no longer concerned with security. His voice was louder. He pulled out the earbud and tucked it in a small pocket of the vest he was wearing. “I’ve been doing this kind of thing for three hundred years. Trust me, it’s a lot less messy than it used to be. I don’t break and enter for personal gain. It’s just a useful life skill.”
“Useful life skills are starting a campfire, or… knowing how to tie really good knots.”
“I know how to do those things too.” He tugged her close and leaned down to her ear. “Give me one weekend without a world-changing revelation,” he whispered, “and I’ll show you my knot-tying skills.”
The color rushed to her face. “Bad man. Very bad man.”
He chuckled. “You wouldn’t be saying that by the end of the weekend.”
The snoring stopped and they both froze. There was a rustling sound before it started up again.
“Come on,” Malachi said. “Let’s get this over with.”
The first doorway in the hall at the top of the stairs was cracked open. A shoe was lying right in front of it. Malachi pushed the door open while Ava kept her eyes closed, hoping Luis wasn’t a nude sleeper.
“He’s fine,” he said, tugging her into the room. “And alone.”
The hard-nosed negotiator looked far less like her father’s pet pit bull and more like a normal guy when he was sleeping. His mouth hung open slightly. His hair was mussed from tossing and turning.
Ava sighed. “Okay. Time to scare the shit out of him. H
e’s never going to return my calls again.”
“Oh yes, he will.” Malachi put one knee on the edge of the bed and leaned over Luis. Pulling out a long hunting knife, he put it under the edge of Luis’s jaw.
“Luis Martin,” Malachi said in a loud voice. “Wake up.”
The snoring stopped, then the man’s eyes slowly blinked open.
“The hell?” he muttered. His eyes widened when he saw Malachi, and he jerked up in bed, only to catch the edge of the blade and cry out in pain. A line of blood welled up from his skin and dripped down his neck.
Just then, the phone rang.
Oh shit.
Malachi was totally calm. “Do you recognize me?”
Luis’s eyes darted between Ava and Malachi. “Ava, what—?”
“Eyes on me.” The phone was still ringing. “You’re going to answer the phone and tell them you’re just fine. Otherwise, I’m going to hurt you.”
“No fucking—”
“Yes, you will.” Malachi reached up and wrote something across Luis’s forehead with a finger. “Luis?”
“Yeah?” The man sounded dazed.
“Answer the phone.”
“Okay.”
Ava watched as her father’s fierce manager followed Malachi’s order like a well-trained dog.
“Yeah…” He was muttering into the phone. “Just tired. I don’t know.” Another pause. “Nah, I’m fine. Maybe kind of… drunk.”
A few moments later, the phone was in the cradle and Luis’s eyes were clearing.
“What was that? What did you do to me?”
“As you can feel, you should not attempt to move. Do you know who I am?”
Luis tried to nod but winced when the blade bit into his skin again.
“Answer verbally.”
“Yes, I know you.”
“Good. That will make this easier.”
Ava was watching Malachi. He was very careful not to move the knife. As long as Luis didn’t move, the edge wouldn’t touch his skin. But the wily little man had always had a hard time sitting still for anything.