“We don’t traffic in our own,” one said. “They are untouchable.”
Prija smiled when she heard that. Untouchable. She liked the label.
“That’s not what we want her for,” her captor said. “That’s not why our father wants her. She’s something different.”
“Then we really don’t want her.”
“She’s powerful.”
“All the more reason she’s not welcome here.”
So her captors knew her lethargy and blank stares were an act. Not surprising. What was surprising was the case in the corner. They’d stolen her instrument from her cottage and taken it with them, even though they didn’t let her play. Did they know? Perhaps what had happened to Tenasserim wasn’t as much of a secret as she and her brothers had thought.
What do you want with me?
“She’s an offering,” they told another outpost, “for our father. She will please him.”
Why would she please Arindam? She had nothing but contempt for the Fallen angel. She had even more contempt for Arindam’s sons, who had dishonored Kanok’s memory with their cowardice. He’d sacrificed his life only to have them back out of their bargain. He’d sacrificed his life, and now Prija was alone.
On the third day of traveling, Prija decided to kill the scribe.
He’d sat in the back of the van with her. He sat on the opposite bench and looked at her with greedy eyes. He’d taken out her saw sam sai and run his filthy tattooed hands all over the wood.
“Beautiful,” he’d said. He looked and sounded Indian, but she didn’t know enough about India to identify his accent. She knew it was a big country with many languages, but the man spoke English. “Your violin is beautiful.”
It isn’t a violin.
He tapped the blue jewel attached to the skin of the instrument. “This is valuable, isn’t it? It’s not a fake.”
Of course it wasn’t. Kanok had stolen the jewel for her. It was the last gift he’d given Prija. The scribe had no idea how valuable it was.
“Why do you hold your instrument in such high esteem?” he asked. “Is it your voice?”
She met his eyes and knew that the scribe understood.
“It is, isn’t it? I kept wondering why they called you dangerous. I kept wondering what it was that made you the one we needed to take. I voted for the little one. She’s a genius, isn’t she? A prize like that one could be very valuable if one could make her compliant. The right angel would have to—”
She knocked him to the ground with a lob of power aimed at his forehead. The scribe started bleeding from the corners of his eyes.
He blinked and droplets of blood scattered across his face. “How—?”
Prija punched her power out again, catching her instrument as the scribe slumped to the floor of the van. She set her saw sam sai delicately in the case and closed it before she moved back to the scribe.
He was dazed and bleeding. It was the only reason she had been able to break past the tattooed armor he covered himself with. His magic was far superior to hers, but he’d looked at Prija’s slight body and seen weakness. He’d believed her silence was defeat.
A foolish mistake. The surprise was hers, and he would die.
She saw him reaching for the intricate spiral of ink on his left wrist, and she slammed her foot down on his hand, blocking him from activating more magic as she thrust more power at his frontal lobe.
“Can’t… do this.”
I can do anything I want. She smiled. I am untouchable.
She felt a twisting black power grow around her. Prija ground her foot into the scribe’s wrist. He was bleeding from the ears now. She had no subtlety in her attack. Prija’s power had been fine and fierce once. Now it was the equivalent of a brick to the skull. She kept battering his mind over and over and over. Eventually his eyes rolled back in his head. He went limp. Then she knelt over him and put one hand to his windpipe and the other over his nose and mouth.
As the car wound farther into the mountains of Myanmar, she smothered the Irin scribe who had taken her. She took his own dagger from his waist—a small curved saber—and stabbed him in the back of the neck as she’d been shown. Irin and Grigori called themselves different, but they died the same way.
She opened a window to let the scribe’s dust swirl out of the van. The black shadow that settled in her mind didn’t dissipate. Killing the scribe had felt good. Satisfying. She wondered if she’d be able to kill the other men who had captured her.
She secured her saw sam sai in its case, sat back on the bench, and waited for the next stop, the silver dagger tied into a corner of her dress.
Chapter Fourteen
Leo and Alyah sat at the table, checking off things from a list Sura had put together. They had all packed their bags in the bus to take them north, along with some training equipment Ginny had given them in Chiang Mai.
“Is she coming?” Leo asked.
Alyah shook her head. “Ginny said she was following up on the scribe with the two Grigori.”
“She thinks she knows who it is?”
“She suspects.” Alyah looked up from her notebook. “Ginny is… different. But she knows people, and she means well. I’m sure she regrets your fight the other night, but she may never apologize.”
“I didn’t mean to cause her pain, and I’m sorry I did. I was asking about longevity spells for Kyra.”
“For Kyra?” Alyah frowned. “How old is she?”
“Far older than she looks, and much longer than her natural life would have granted. Her brother had been given extra power from a Fallen ally before the Battle of Vienna, but since then there has been nothing.”
“That is unexpected,” Alyah said. “And unfortunate. We need to do something. I assume you’re planning to mate with her. Can you—”
“It’s premature,” Leo said. “She doesn’t want to rush into anything, and even if we did, performing the ritual now is not ideal.”
Alyah nodded. “A very good point. You don’t need to be depleted before an action like this, and she won’t know her half of the ritual to make you stronger.” Alyah paused. “Her tracking skills are unparalleled. We need to shore up her energy to make sure nothing happens to her before we find Prija.”
Leo bristled. “And to make sure she’s safe?”
“Of course.” Alyah’s expression revealed little. “Leo, I have to think strategically. That’s my job. Even if Kyra meant nothing to you, I’d still want her as an ally because of her skills. That doesn’t mean I don’t value her as a person too.”
“Can you do it?”
“Not as well as Ginny could.” Alyah pulled out her phone. “Let me talk to her and see what she says. For now, track down whoever makes the food around here and ask them to pack some for us. Niran wants to be on the road within an hour, and I don’t disagree. The sooner we get up to the border, the faster we find Prija and the less likely she’s drawn into Arindam’s orbit. Angels can be seductive for more than sex.”
Sura walked into the dining room as Alyah walked away.
“The food is already being prepared,” he said. “I’ll make sure it’s packed. We should be on the road within the hour.”
“Good.” Leo put his hand on the map. “Tell me about Myanmar. Tell me about Arindam.”
“If I tell you about Arindam, it will explain more about Myanmar, I think.” Sura sat at the table. He was dressed in his Western clothes, but he still looked like a young monk with his shaved head and wise countenance. “For many years, my father and Arindam were enemies. But my father was the clear superior.”
“Spoken with prejudice because he was your sire or objective fact?”
“Objective fact,” Sura said. “I had no love for Tenasserim. He was a monster, but a powerful one. He controlled far more territory than Arindam ever did. Few people know this, but his hold extended into southern China. Arindam was jealous of him, coveted his territory, but was never able to unseat him from power.”
“But you a
nd your brothers did?”
“Using our father’s own gifts against him,” Sura said.
“Prija?”
Sura nodded. “That is why I am not more concerned about her. I do not fear for her personal safety. I fear more for her soul.”
“An interesting way to put it.”
“Don’t you think we have souls, Leo?”
“I do,” he said. “I guess I didn’t know if you did. Is that Buddhist teaching?”
“What do our sisters hear if not the voice of the divine in all humanity?” Sura said. “But speaking of the soul does offer perspective into Arindam’s people. I think that was the main difference between my brothers and Arindam’s sons.”
“They don’t believe in the soul?”
“They don’t believe the soul can change,” Sura said. “They are born to evil, but they are given more power and gifts than humans. It is an imbalance they have no control over, so they do not strive. They will sacrifice their lives for their father. They will die and hopefully be reborn as something less unbalanced.”
“They’re fatalists,” Leo said.
“To the extreme. When my brother was killed defeating Tenasserim, they believed it was a sign that they were destined to remain under the Fallen’s power.”
Leo paused. “So we shouldn’t expect any help from Arindam’s sons.”
“I do not believe so. Even if some are sympathetic personally, they will see Prija’s abduction as her fate. They would be interfering with fate to help her.”
“I see.”
“This attitude is why Arindam propped up the human government in Burma for so long. Their isolation suited him and kept those under his influence quiet. His compounds in the hills remain hidden.”
“But you know where they are?”
“I know the rough locations. I believe Kyra will be able to be more precise.”
Leo hated that Kyra was even going on this mission, but now that she’d revealed her power, there was little chance the strategic Irin of Bangkok would allow her to stay behind. Plus, Leo knew his reluctance was based on his heart and not his common sense. She was a huge asset. The mission would be impossible without her.
Without Kyra’s gifts, Prija would remain under Arindam’s power. And if the Fallen managed to feed her anger, who knew what could happen? A kareshta powerful enough to tip the scales against her own angelic sire was a force to be feared.
They traveled directly north for two hours, taking rooms at a small hotel in the hills south of the border. They were the only visitors at the country inn; their bungalows sat sheltered from prying eyes by dense bamboo hedges that blended into the trees. Leo pushed open the door to farthest bungalow where he and Kyra had been assigned.
She walked in behind him. “This is very nice.”
“I was expecting something more basic, but you’re right.”
The log bungalow was set on decorative stone pilings with a covered porch that extended the traditional grass roof. The railings and furniture were made of bamboo, and white drapes fluttered behind plantation shades. Inside, mosquito netting hung over a wide bed also covered in white. The wood floor was parqueted with dark and light wood, and grass rugs lay on the floor.
“This is heaven,” Kyra said, peeking around a corner where Leo suspected the bathroom was. “There’s a bathtub, Leo.”
Leo looked over her shoulder and saw a luxurious claw-foot tub with various glass containers sitting next to it. Herbs, pink salts, and flower petals turned the bathroom into something far closer to one of the fancy spas that he’d seen in Chiang Mai.
“This is wonderful.” Leo kissed her shoulder. “After we train, you’ll be able to soak.”
Kyra turned. “After I what?”
“Train.” Leo grinned. “I recognize the need for you to go into this battle, and I’m not going to leave you unprepared. You need to know how to defend yourself.”
“But Leo—”
“I will be there every moment to protect you.” He put his hands on her shoulders. “But I’m not complacent. Should something happen to me, you need to know the basics.”
A wrinkle formed between her brows. “But I think you’d be surprised—”
“No buts.” He kissed her nose. “Now, let’s get changed and go find a clear spot we can practice. Don’t forget the bug spray.”
Leo walked out of the bungalow feeling very virtuous. No mate of his would face battle unprotected. He had every confidence of his ability to protect Kyra, but he also believed in being prepared. There was nothing better than a woman who could hold her own in battle. That’s what his watcher, Damien, had taught him. Damien’s mate, Sari, was a warrior equal to any Irin scribe. And even pacifists like Ava learned the basics of hand-to-hand combat once they entered the Irin world.
It was only an hour later, once Kyra had managed to give him two slices across his back with her daggers, that the virtuous glow wore off.
“Who taught you dagger fighting?” he said with a scowl.
“Sirius.” She flipped one knife in her hand—the knife with his blood on it. “He was also of the opinion that a woman should know how to defend herself. So he taught me—how did you put it? The basics.”
Leo’s nostrils flared. “He did well.”
“Thank you.”
He found her smugness adorable. He found her skills more than tempting. Who knew his mild-mannered kareshta would be nimble and ruthless too? She hadn’t hesitated to give him a taste of her skills.
“You didn’t feel like telling me?” He circled her, enjoying the sight of her in workout leggings. Kyra rarely wore pants, much less anything figure-hugging.
“After the second time you interrupted me, I thought a demonstration would be more effective.”
He leapt on her without warning, one arm going around her waist and another reaching for her right wrist, even as he felt the dagger point pressed to his neck. She held the knife in her left hand, and the point was at his artery.
He hissed but didn’t let go. Her bottom was pressed against his groin, and it felt too good. He pulled her closer and ignored the bite of the blade against his skin.
“Leo.” She pulled the knife away. “What are you doing?”
Mortal peril avoided, he bent down and pressed a kiss to her neck. “How is it possible for you to be even more attractive than you were an hour ago?” He continued kissing along her neck. Her collar. He tasted the pulse pounding in her neck.
“You scribes find the strangest things attractive.”
“Any man who doesn’t see the allure of a lethal woman is a fool.” He nipped the soft skin at her neck. “I am not a fool.”
He heard the daggers drop to the forest floor. She reached one arm up and hooked it around his neck. With the right force and angle, she might be able to flip him over her shoulder with that hold.
He groaned at the thought.
Instead of flipping him, she pressed her bottom back into his hips, making his erection leap with joy.
Sadly, the forest make-out session was not to last.
“There’s someone coming,” Kyra whispered.
He sighed and pulled away. Kyra was too private to endure many public displays of affection, much less public displays of ardent groping.
“Later,” he said, pressing one last kiss to her neck.
“After this morning, I will never be able to hear that word again without blushing.”
Was that a self-satisfied chuckle on his part? Yes. Yes, it was.
They ate together, Sura, Niran, Alyah, Kyra, and Leo. Niran’s other two men were ghosts, patrolling the hotel in utter silence. Leo wondered if the owners even knew they had seven guests instead of five.
“Your men,” Leo asked Niran, “have they eaten?”
“They have.” Niran was scooping chicken panang over a bowl of rice. “They take very simple meals.”
Kyra said, “There is more than enough here to share with them.”
Niran lifted his gaze, and his usually ste
ely expression softened. “Like many of my men, they choose to focus on discipline in all things, and they believe food that appeals to the senses could weaken their resolve.”
“So they are monks as well as warriors?” Alyah said.
“In a sense,” Sura said. “Though both of them have taken the Sak Yant, they have also sacrificed inner peace for a life of protection for those weaker than themselves. If their violence is confined to the protection of others, they do not feel they have violated the precepts of Sak Yant.”
“Do you feel the same way?” Kyra asked Niran. “Is violence in the protection of others acceptable violence?”
“I have to believe it,” Niran said. “Who else will protect my sisters in a world that hates their existence?”
“But you also eat delicious food,” Kyra said with a smile. “Not very monk-like of you.”
Niran’s expression turned to something very far from monk-like. “My resolve is tested by far more tempting things than food.”
Leo would have to be blind to miss the way Niran looked at Kyra. The whole table was aware of the Grigori’s double meaning. Kyra looked down at her plate. Alyah watched with amused curiosity. Sura wore a thoughtful frown.
The rest of the meal passed in awkward silence. After the dishes had been cleared and others were taking their leave, Leo grabbed Niran by the arm.
“You and I need to talk.”
Niran wrenched his arm away. “And you need to learn manners.”
Leo spun on him. “So do you.”
Their interchange had come to the attention of Sura, Alyah, and Kyra. Kyra’s eyes were wide and pleading.
Don’t, they said.
Leo shook his head. Niran’s comments were putting Kyra in an awkward place, and it wasn’t acceptable.
“Fine,” Niran said, nodding toward a side door. “Let’s talk, scribe.”
They marched out the side door and into the darkened forest. The full moon had waned, and the forest was grey and black with shadows.
The Silent Page 16
