The Scribe

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The Scribe Page 19

by Elizabeth Hunter


  “I love touching you, Ava.” His breath whispered across her neck. “You were meant to be touched and kissed. To feel pleasure.”

  She felt it rising. His fingers moved deliberately, his other hand on her breast as he played Ava’s body, and her sighs echoed off the marble walls.

  “You…” She gasped, looking down to see his black-scribed arms cradling her, one hand teasing her breasts as the other disappeared into the water, driving her slowly mad. “Come in me. I want you…”

  “I love watching you.” He turned her head, swallowing her cries of pleasure in a kiss as she came against his hand. Her skin was alive. She felt him behind her, the hair on his chest brushing against her back, his legs cradling her. Every sense was alive. Every instinct pulled her toward him.

  Reshon.

  The voice hadn’t come from Malachi. The word whispered through her own mind as he kissed her over and over, his arms banded around her, dark ink against pale skin. She could see the faint silver glow as his talesm reacted to her.

  Reshon.

  He slowly worked her down, her pulse calming under his hands. There were tears in her eyes when they slipped closed.

  “Sleep, Ava,” he whispered as she laid her cheek against his shoulder. “I will hold you.”

  The next week passed in relative peace. Malachi continued with his dogged patience, diffusing the fights Ava seemed unable to stop instigating, even when she tried. Try as she might, she couldn’t seem to combat his steady affection. She snapped; he joked. She sneered; he smiled. It was maddening.

  It was wonderful.

  And with each small conflict, each new resolution, Ava felt a growing current of devotion and loyalty. Their chemistry was undeniable, but every time she turned from him and Malachi pulled her back with a simple hug or teasing kiss, a little bit of her walls crumbled, rolling toward a growing foundation of something she could barely acknowledge.

  Love.

  She was falling in love with him.

  They were sitting across from each other, sipping two beers at a café as Malachi watched one of the cruise ships with amusement.

  “There are so many of them.” He played with her fingers as he stared at the massive cruise ship that had just docked, travelers pouring off like ants. “How do they even see the country with so many—”

  “I’m falling in love with you.”

  He stopped speaking immediately, a smile teasing the corners of his mouth. “Hmm.”

  Ava narrowed her eyes. “Hmm? I say I think I’m falling in love with you and all you say is ‘Hmm’?”

  Grabbing her hand and holding on when she tried to pull it away, he said, “What did you want me to say?”

  Her mouth dropped open. “I… Maybe that you… You know what? Never mind. I changed my mind.”

  “So you’re not in love with me?”

  “I never said I was!”

  “Exactly.” He winked and pulled her hand to his lips, kissing each finger deliberately. “If you had…”

  “If I had?” She knew she was holding her breath, but she didn’t know why.

  Malachi leaned closer. “How do you think I feel about you?”

  How did he feel about her? She didn’t even need to ask, really. She knew without asking that he loved her. It was in every kiss. Every embrace. Every teasing comment. Every patient smile. His dogged affection had worn her down. In that moment, her heart tumbled, and she could feel the flush on her skin.

  “I think…” Her eyes were drawn to a man who had just walked around the corner. “Grigori.”

  He frowned. “You think Grigori?”

  She clutched his hand. “Grigori. There’s a Grigori coming up the sidewalk. He’s—”

  “Another one just came in the back. He’s by the bar.”

  Grabbing his wallet and throwing a fifty-lira note on the table, Malachi rose. “Walk calmly.”

  “He’s already looking at me.” Her heart raced. “Malachi, he’s already—”

  “This one spotted us, too. They’re not here hunting. They’re here for us.”

  They walked toward the sidewalk, nodding at the host who looked at them in confusion. Malachi muttered something in Turkish as they passed and the man nodded. He kept his hand on the small of Ava’s back, walking quickly in the other direction. Ava chanced a look over her shoulder. Both Grigori were following them. Another melted into the foot traffic as they passed another café.

  “There’s three. Three of them are behind us.”

  “I’m leading them away from the humans.”

  “Should I—?”

  “Stay with me. Keep yourself behind me when we get there.”

  “Get where?”

  They were speed-walking up the hill until Malachi ducked into a side street. Houses rose on either side, the street dead-ending into a hill covered by pink oleander and trash. Ava tripped over a scattering of cans that littered the ground as Malachi leaned down for a quick kiss, his eyes gleaming.

  “I love you. Of course I love you. Now stay behind me while I take care of these nuisances.”

  He turned his back to her and drew two silver daggers from the sheaths against his skin just as six Grigori soldiers turned the corner.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Six? Where had the other three come from?

  No matter, Malachi grinned in anticipation. Playing lovers’ games for the past week had been more than satisfying, but the hunter in him craved this fight. He paced across the alleyway, letting the Grigori come closer. Let them grow more confident. It would make them more fun to kill. The one in front could have been his brother, so alike were they in height and physique. But the soldier didn’t have what Malachi had—years of experience and the strength of his reshon flowing through his body.

  Malachi faked to the right, more pleased than irritated when the Grigori wasn’t fooled. Their eyes met for a brief moment before the soldier’s eyes flicked to Ava standing behind him. He heard Ava let out a small sound of panic.

  Enough. He’d forgotten she would be frightened.

  Crossing his arms and brushing both hands along his tattoos, Malachi felt the preternatural strength flood his body. His eyes grew stronger in the early evening gloom. His hearing more acute. He could track the soldiers’ movements almost as if the men were moving in slow motion. And he could hear the two soldiers the Grigori had stationed at the mouth of the alley to warn away any passersby. Ava’s pulse hammered behind him. The rush of blood filled his ears.

  By the time Malachi pulled his knife, he’d already darted to the left, pulling one soldier by his arm, spinning him around and plunging the silver knife into the base of his skull. He shoved the body away as it began to disintegrate, only to grab another, his movements so fast he saw Grigori eyes blur.

  Spinning around, he caught one with a swift kick to the jaw, sending him to the ground as he knifed the second Grigori in the neck. He could feel the gold, sand-like dust coat his hands before the wind lifted it, shielding him from the view of the fallen soldier’s compatriots. Through it all, his senses were tuned to Ava, who continued to stay directly behind him, not cowering in a corner, but shadowing him, keeping Malachi between her and the monsters.

  Clever girl.

  The Grigori in front came toward him, ignoring the scrambling of the other soldiers. The man’s eyes flicked to Ava again, and he moved as if to approach her, drawing Malachi’s attention from the soldier he’d been about to knife. He sliced at the man’s neck and threw him to the ground, only to have the Grigori’s foot whip toward him unexpectedly.

  The kick surprised Malachi, causing him to lose the knife he’d used on three of the men. It clattered to the ground, but Malachi did not pick it up, instead shoving it behind him with his boot, toward Ava, while he grabbed for his second dagger with his left hand. In the seconds he was distracted, the Grigori had come within a few feet, attacking with far more skill than the other soldiers.

  But just before he reached Malachi, he darted to the left and toward
Ava. From over his shoulder, he saw a flash of silver. Then the powerful Grigori stopped in his tracks as the knife plunged into his eye.

  Malachi seized the opportunity, grabbing the man as he screamed in pain, spinning him around, then smashing his dagger into the base of the his skull. He grabbed the other knife as the man’s corpse disintegrated in a river of gold sand before it was gathered by the wind and lifted toward the heavens. The three remaining soldiers stood stunned as their captain drifted away, then one ran while the other made a last attempt at his mission.

  It wasn’t successful.

  Malachi kicked him to the ground with a boot to his knee, then crouched on top of the soldier. Turning the Grigori facedown, he slammed the dagger home.

  In the back of his mind, he heard the cries of the children left in his village, hidden by the Irina who had been slaughtered. He blinked at the memory of a little girl, her arm riddled with bites from her own teeth as she forced herself to remain quiet in the hiding space under the floorboards. Her hollow eyes and blood-stained lips haunted him as he moved to the last soldier on the ground, blood still pouring from the gash in his neck where Malachi had slashed him.

  The Grigori stared up at the stars, dead eyes unseeing, bubbles of air bursting at his throat. His lips formed the words over and over.

  “Please. Please. Please.”

  With a swift jerk, Malachi flipped the soldier over and ended his life.

  Bowing over the corpse as it dissolved, he let his head hang as he opened his senses. The last soldier had fled with the other two who’d been standing guard. He could hear them fleeing toward the main road. Then car doors slammed shut and an engine roared to life before speeding away. Whoever had sent the soldiers would know where they were and that the attempt had not been successful.

  He finally turned to Ava, who was standing stunned and wide-eyed, staring at the ground.

  Roused from the fight, he blinked and tried to read her expression.

  “Ava?”

  “I…” She swallowed. “I killed it. Him. Well, I stabbed him and you killed him. And then… he melted.”

  “It’s a kind of dust.” Malachi wiped phantom sand from his hands. “Irin and Grigori both—”

  “I killed him,” she choked out. “He was coming toward me and I just…” Tears started to roll down her face. She clutched her arms around her body. “And you killed, like… lots of them.”

  “There were four.” And he could have killed more. He’d wanted to. He still felt high from the thrill of the battle, but his mate’s reaction was starting to scare him. It was easy to forget in the heat of battle that Ava was a stranger to violence.

  The shivers started in her shoulders but spread down her back.

  “Ava.” He held out a hand and she just looked at it as if he was a stranger. The pain was swift and sure. “Ava, please.”

  With a sob, she came to him, and Malachi wrapped his arms around her shoulders while the fist around his heart loosened. “I’m sorry. I’d forgotten. You’re not accustomed to violence.”

  “Were they trying to kill me?”

  “No,” he soothed her. “Just kill me. I think they were probably trying to capture you.”

  She cried harder. Perhaps that wasn’t the right thing to say.

  “K…kill you?”

  “Shhh.” He stroked her hair, glad that Grigori didn’t leave messy corpses. “I only have a few bruises. They’ll be gone in minutes.” Then he tilted her head up with a smile. “And my fierce love has her own defenses after all. Where did you learn to throw knives?”

  “C…circus camp.” She hiccupped. “Summer I was fourteen.”

  The smile grew wider. “Circus camp?”

  “I can walk a decent tightrope, too, but knives were my favorite. I liked throwing, so I kept practicing. Mom bought me a set and Carl’s gardener made me a big target.” Her eyes were wide and glassy. Her lip was still trembling. But Ava smiled through the tears. “It was fun.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” Sensing the tension in her shoulders had eased, Malachi sheathed both knives before he turned and tucked her under his arm and they started back to the house. They’d have to leave that night. He’d need to call Rhys and let him know. Call Istanbul and tell Damien to expect them back. Call—

  “Your knives are much better balanced than my set, though.” Her voice was growing steadier as they walked. “Can I get some for myself? They might come in handy.”

  “Are you going to use them on me?”

  “Probably not.”

  “We’ll see. What other camps did you go to?”

  “Um… circus camp. Art camp. Surf camp. Photography. Wilderness skills. Horseback riding. More photography. Sailing.”

  “You’re very well-rounded.”

  “You should see me start a fire.”

  The car ride back to Istanbul was quiet. Ava slept since Malachi was still jumping with energy. Even their adrenaline-fueled sex back at the house had done nothing to take the edge off. He was beginning to think the woman had more energy than any Irina he’d ever met. It might have simply been a consequence of too many years with no Irin contact, but he was starting to suspect that, with training, her powers would be formidable. It made him want to thump his chest like a Neanderthal. His woman, his reshon, would be a force to be reckoned with.

  His phone rang.

  “Hello?”

  Damien asked, “Is anyone following you?”

  He glanced in the rearview mirror, but it was still empty. The only traffic had been scattered, though he knew it would become heavier the closer they got to the city. Here, they sped through countryside populated by more tractors than immortal assassins.

  “We’re fine. Nothing suspicious.”

  “Maxim said he’s picked up more activity in the last couple of days than what he’d expect for this time of year. More outsiders than he’s seen before. Something is definitely happening with the Grigori in the city. And Leo says that the elusive Dr. Sadik seems to be back in his office. Says the secretary showed up this morning, even though no patients came.”

  “No sightings of the doctor?”

  “No, but if the secretary has come back from her holiday…”

  “The doctor could be expected soon.” He paused, adding the fact to the mosaic of information he’d been building about Ava. “Has Maxim heard anything?”

  The young scribe was the best information merchant they had. While Rhys could command the computer systems, sometimes nothing beat having ears to the ground. And the quietly charming Maxim had become a favorite among some of the more… legally challenged elements of Istanbul. His love of gambling probably helped.

  “Maxim claims your Dr. Sadik hasn’t rung any bells with the human element, though a Grigori he captured went stubbornly silent when the name was mentioned.”

  “So he is Grigori. Or connected in some way.”

  “Or the soldier knew he was going to die and didn’t feel like giving Maxim the answer to his question. It’s all speculation at this point, brother.”

  He thought for a moment, wishing he could just be back in Istanbul without the long drive. Ava’s breathing changed slightly and she let out a soft murmur but didn’t wake.

  “You and the woman,” Damien asked. “You’re together?”

  “Yes. She’s mine.”

  “You’re certain?”

  “Yes.”

  There was a long pause, and when Damien’s voice came back, he sounded amused. “It’ll be good not to be the only one tormented by a mate. Congratulations.”

  Malachi grinned, reaching over to play with a piece of hair that was tickling her nose. “My Ava adores me. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Ha!”

  He bit his lip to hold in the laughter when she frowned in her sleep and batted at his hand. Adoration, indeed.

  “I’ll let you off the phone. Drive carefully. Rhys should be back tomorrow night. He left Göreme just a little bit after you left Kuşadas
ı.”

  “It will be good to see him. Has he made any progress with Ava’s genealogy?”

  “He sounded like he’d made some kind of breakthrough, but he didn’t say what. Just that he had a few more questions for her.”

  Malachi frowned. “Fine.”

  “And I’m going to suggest she go see the mysterious Dr. Sadik.”

  “Not without me.”

  Damien paused, then said, “We’ll talk about it when you get back.”

  “Not without me, Damien. It’s not going to happen.”

  “She saw him for weeks with no danger.”

  “We don’t know that. How do you think they found us tonight?”

  “It’s hardly out of their normal hunting grounds. Perhaps it was a coincidence?”

  “I don’t believe in a coincidence that leads six Grigori to corner me in an alley while I happen to have Ava with me.”

  “You’re newly mated, and thus you’re paranoid. It’s completely understandable.”

  “And I’m completely right. She’s not going to his office without me.”

  “We’ll talk more tomorrow. Until then, take care.”

  “I’ll see you later.”

  As he hung up the phone, the question plagued him. How had the Grigori found them? Not just in Kuşadası, but in that particular restaurant at that particular hour? It couldn’t be a coincidence. He glanced at Ava, still sleeping securely. He didn’t think she’d called Dr. Sadik again, so how had it happened?

  He slowed the car and pulled over near a roadside market, then he grabbed her mobile phone from the center console. Could Sadik have tapped into the network somehow? Doing so would indicate he was far more connected than Malachi or Rhys had initially suspected. Perhaps it was simpler. A tracker of some kind. A simple GPS chip would have allowed him to track Ava anywhere she went. He flipped her phone over, looking for any indication it had been tampered with.

  “What are you doing?” Her sleepy voice didn’t distract him as he looked at the edges of her mobile. No scratches or marks indicated that the case had been manipulated or modified.

 

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