Malachi had his hand on the small of her back, guiding her to a chair near Damien, who looked up, tension plastered over his brow. Sari squeezed his hand, and he lifted her knuckles to his mouth, the easy affection between them another wound healed over in Ava’s heart.
They looked like love to Ava. Tested. Broken. Mended. Faithful. Forgiven. She didn’t know everything they had lived through, but if Damien and Sari could recover from it, she was certain she and Malachi had a better-than-average chance.
“What’s wrong?” Sari asked.
“Anurak has rejected my request for a meeting.”
Sari looked shocked. “What? But he’s been vocal about the reformation of the Irina council.”
“I know. Perhaps he’s feeling pressure—”
“If Anurak is the same scribe I once knew,” Orsala said, “he’s grown tired of talk. He’s a taciturn man by nature, and I doubt he wants debate. I have a feeling he and many other older scribes simply want the Irina to step forward and claim their role in the Library.”
“The Library?” Ava whispered to Malachi.
“The Elder Council meets in the Library. It’s symbolic but also practical, as their primary job is interpreting Irin scripture and history and using those interpretations to resolve disputes.”
“Where did the singers meet?”
“The same place. There are fourteen desks. Seven have been empty since the Irina elders fled after the Rending.”
“A library?”
He shrugged. “It’s a very big library.”
“I thought I heard something about council chambers.”
“I believe it is not unlike your court system. All the elders have their own offices and staff, but the actual decisions are made in the Library.”
Well, Ava supposed there were worse places to run an entire society.
“But wouldn’t meeting in a library favor the scribes?” she asked. “I mean, they’re all supposed to be equal, right? Seven scribes and seven singers. But that’s kind of a scribe thing, right? Written magic?”
Malachi frowned. “I don’t understand.”
“I mean, doesn’t running the Irin world from a library mean the Irina are at a… tactical disadvantage?”
“No.” He was shaking his head. “Irin scribes must be in the Library. That is where we draw our strength. But Irina…” Malachi smiled. “Irina singers are the library.”
Oh. Well, that was cool.
Damien looked up with a rueful expression. “They can be quite superior about it.”
Orsala chided him. “Just because you males are forced to rely on books and scrolls doesn’t make your magic less powerful, Damien.”
The watcher gave her an affectionate smile before he turned his attention to Ava. “It did create a rather major problem when the Irina elders went into hiding, though. While they could take copies of our scriptures with them as references, we had no access to Irina knowledge. It’s one of the reasons there’s been so much division since the Rending.”
“I think Anurak is right,” Sari said. “We need to stop debating. Irina elders should just walk in and take their place at their desks. No more debate. No more talk of compulsion. We’d have a voice on the council, and no one would be able to question it.”
Mala shook her head and began signing. Sari translated as she signed.
“They would question anything not supported by the wives,” Mala signed. “Sari and her supporters are not the only Irina in the city now. Whatever elder singers take their place in the Library must have legitimacy among all the Irina—even if there is dissent—or we lose all rights to challenge the elder scribes.”
Max said, “I agree.”
“So do I,” Orsala said. “The problem is how we can elect our own elders when we’re still so scattered.”
“How are the elders chosen?” Ava asked. “I know they’re chosen by the watchers of the scribe houses, but it’s got to be more specific than that. I mean, we’re talking about the whole world, right?”
Malachi put an arm around her shoulders. “One from each continent, for the most part. And then one seat that changes depending on population.”
“So one from North America and one from South,” Rhys said. “One elder from Africa. One from Europe. One from Eurasia—that one is up for debate every single election—and one from Eastern Asia and the Pacific region. That’s six, and then when the seventh seat comes up for election every seventy years, it’s decided based on population. Right now, there is an additional European elder on the scribe council, but the time before that, there were more scribes in Asia. It changes over time.”
Sari said, “And the Irina are basically the same, but we tend to have different population concentrations. Our seventh seat has more often come from Africa or Asia.”
“Okay, I get that it’s complicated,” Ava said. “But Sari, didn’t you say the havens are mostly connected online?”
“We all have e-mail, of course.”
“So…” She held up her smartphone. “Have elections online. Do it over the Internet.”
“Online elections for elders?”
Max leaned forward, smiling. “You know, Ava has a good point. Human revolutions are fueled by social networks now. Don’t you think the Irina could organize their own revolution on the Internet?”
Damien and Sari exchanged a look that told Ava they’d be talking more about it later. Yeah, so it kinda made her feel like a kid at the grown-ups table, but she had to remind herself that to these people she was a kid.
“Hey,” she whispered to Malachi. “When are Irin considered adults?”
He was following what looked to be a quiet argument between Sari and Mala. “Full adults? Around sixty to seventy-five years. When we’re finished with our training. Why?”
She flushed. Wow.
“So, you’re quite the cradle robber, aren’t you?”
Malachi turned to her abruptly. “What? No, I’m not.”
“I’m not even thirty. That’s like… a teenager to you guys.”
She could see the flush crawl up his neck, even behind the beard. “You’re human. You mature differently.”
“But I’m not really human.”
His shoulders were stiff and his posture screamed his discomfort. It was really a shame that Ava found teasing him to be so amusing.
“I mean, what would your mom say if she found out you were mated—and I mean well and thoroughly mated—to what she would basically consider a kid?”
He wiped a hand over his forehead. “Heaven above, please stop talking.”
“So are we going to stop fooling around now?”
He groaned. “Ava.”
“I’m just yanking your chain.”
“You’re going to have to speak up, because the mental lecture my mother’s memory is giving me right now is rather loud.”
She bit her lip so she didn’t burst into laughter. “Malachi?”
“What?”
“Have you ever heard of Irin teenagers finding their mate before they’re adults?”
“No.”
“So, even though I’m young in your world, I’m thinking the universe decided I was an adult a while back.”
He squeezed her hand and said, “I hate you a little right now. You know that, right?”
“The kareshta,” Damien said after they’d eaten together.
Everyone turned to Ava.
“Hey, I don’t have any inside information,” she said quietly. She wasn’t ready to share her grandmother’s story. She’d talked to Malachi about it, and they’d both decided that until it became important, it wasn’t something everyone needed to know.
“Did you find your grandmother?” Orsala asked.
“I did.”
“And?”
“She’s kareshta,” Ava said as Malachi took her hand. “Jaron is her sire. She’s his only daughter.”
Renata said, “That’s why he’s taken an interest in you.”
“Yes.”
&
nbsp; Leo asked, “Can he track you? Like Max said the other Fallen can track their children?”
“Yes,” Malachi said. “But I want to point out he has tracked Ava from the beginning, and she’s come to no harm from him. In fact, he’s protected her more than once. Jaron’s motivations are still murky—”
Orsala’s eyes narrowed on Ava’s mate as if she could sense the lie.
“—but for now, I do not believe he’s a threat.”
Rhys asked, “When do we tell the elders about them?”
Damien said, “When we know they’re protected.”
“You don’t think the elders would try to harm them?” Rhys said. “Why—”
“We don’t know how they’ll react,” the watcher said.
Max added, “And I told Kostas we would keep his secret. No place is more of a hotbed for gossip than this city. There are spies everywhere. I want to be cautious.”
Malachi nodded. “And let’s be honest. Not all the elder scribes want the singers to return. They like wielding total control over the council. If the kareshta are taken in by the Irina, that could make them more powerful. They’re first generation blood. If they were trained—”
“Ava is second generation,” Mala signed as Orsala translated. “And we’ve all seen how powerful she is.”
“She’s also mated to a scribe,” Sari said. “That focuses our power. The kareshta have no focus. The Grigori are their brothers; they have no mates.”
“But they could,” Leo said quietly. He looked around the room. “I’m not the only scribe who will think of this. I don’t want to be selfish, but there are so few Irina.” He paused and a red flush stained the giant’s cheeks. “Ava and Malachi are mated. We know it’s possible. To those of us without mates, the existence of these women offers us some hope that our reshon could be out there. That we will not always walk alone. Malachi is right. Many Irin may worry. But many will be motivated to help for that reason alone.”
Mala put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed.
Damien said, “That’s not selfish, Leo. When I look at Ava and Malachi, I see nothing one-sided about their relationship.” Damien gave her a small smile. “We all need a place to belong.”
“But we have to be cautious,” Renata said. “These women have been lost for generations. Many died as infants or were discarded by the fathers who should have protected them. I think we all have the desire to help them, but they could also be a threat.”
“I agree,” Orsala said. “We need more information. I’m going to look in the archives, but right now Sari should focus on organizing elections and reaching out to the Irina in the city.”
“The pro-compulsion sympathizers?” Sari scoffed.
“Yes.” Orsala’s tone brooked no argument. “Remember, some of those women you ridicule lost their children during the Rending. While you see compulsion, they see protection. Loss is a powerful motivator. Don’t dismiss it. Or them.”
Ava said, “I can help. I think. At least with the computer part. The organization.”
“Thank you, Ava.”
“And us?” Malachi asked his watcher.
“I want you to come with me to the Library this week,” Damien said. “I know you don’t have all your memories, but I need a new perspective. Rhys, I have a different project for you. Can you start looking through the police statistics here in the city?”
“Of course,” Rhys said. “What am I looking for?”
“I don’t buy that the Grigori have been absent from Vienna for generations,” Damien said. “Though it makes the elder scribes look very good if any trace of attacks are silenced. We need to know the truth. Can you look in the human records?”
“Easily.”
“Leo and me?” Max asked.
“I want you around the city. Keep your eyes out and tell me what you see. I want to know who has people here. Which elders have more than the average number of staff. Who’s traveling lately and where.”
“What do you suspect?” Leo asked.
“I’m not sure yet,” Damien said with a frown. “For now, we should simply be cautious.”
Sari said, “Mala and Renata, you can help with that, along with gathering information on the Irina who have showed up in the city. I want to know who is here and what their connections are. Are they mated? Do they have families? Where do their loyalties lie?”
“Of course,” Renata said. “Consider it done.”
THE second time Death visited her, Ava wasn’t as surprised. She sat up in bed when she heard him, rustling in the shadows of the room. The angel leaned forward, his black cloak falling from his head and his silver eyes piercing the darkness.
“You were talking about my grandmother before, weren’t you? When you said you couldn’t go to her.”
He nodded.
“Why not?”
No answer, but the silver grey of the angel’s eyes grew darker, like storm clouds gathering.
“It’s not up to you, is it?”
Come with me.
“More secrets?”
Humor lit his face. She glanced down at Malachi, then slid out of bed.
Death embraced her again and she allowed it, sinking into his arms as he covered her with his star-filled cloak. In a heartbeat, they were sitting in a brightly lit hall. Ava couldn’t decide if it was a church or a library. The walls were covered in tall bookcases, but the windows were filled with brilliantly colored stained glass. The whole room had a weight of holiness she couldn’t dismiss. Church or library?
Both.
Death kept her shrouded as the room coalesced around them. Once again, there were muffled voices that came from a distance, as if she were eavesdropping in a hallway. Shadows became visible and formed in the room. It was Volund again, Ava now had the taste of his power from her grandmother’s memories, and she struggled to control her immediate nausea.
“…tell your children to eliminate the threat.”
“I am not one to waste my sons on foolish gambles. Didn’t Oslo teach you anything?”
“It taught me that any with human blood are expendable.”
A long pause.
“Are you sure of that, brother?”
A hissing sound, then a grunt in reply.
“Do not make the mistake of thinking we are equals, Svarog.”
“You may be assured I do not.”
Ava could tell by the tone of his voice that whoever Svarog was, he didn’t think Volund was superior.
“The heretic has spies everywhere,” a third voice hissed. “Even among our own people. More and more are listening to him. We must send a message. Once the city falls into our hands, any thought of rebellion will be quashed.”
“And Vienna will be yours,” Volund said.
“Yes,” the one called Svarog replied. “That is our arrangement.”
Ava could tell the angel wasn’t one hundred percent certain of it, though.
“Grimold, are your children ready?”
“Yes. All of them.”
“All?” She thought it was Svarog who spoke.
“All. If there are singers with them, they will not be a problem.”
She tried to repeat the details to herself, knowing her memory of dreams could be sketchy. Volund and his allies seemed to be in some kind of strategy meeting, and Ava knew the information would be valuable to Malachi and Damien.
But the scene was too hazy. The figures never truly took shape. Ava only had a vague impression of them and their relative power. Two greater powers with a third attached to Volund. The voices faded in and out.
“Will I remember this?” she asked Death.
When you need to.
She sighed. “I love answers like that.”
“Eliminate them and make it clear who killed them,” Volund said. “It is past time that your allegiance became known. Unless you have something to hide, Svarog.”
“Becoming your ally doesn’t mean you are privy to my secrets. I do not trust you.”
“Nor I
you.”
A slight pause before Svarog said, “Then we are agreed. I will take care of the heretic. Have you found her yet?”
“It is more than Jaron guarding her. There can be no other explanation.”
“Another, then. She is more of a problem than we anticipated.”
Ava turned to her angelic shadow and asked, “Are they talking about me or—?”
Before she could finish her sentence, Death enfolded her in his cloak and she was back in her bedroom, sitting next to Malachi who murmured once, then rolled toward her in sleep, pressing his face to her belly and wrapping his arms around her waist.
Death turned his back to Ava and walked back toward the shadows.
“Azril?”
He stopped.
“That’s your name, isn’t it?”
He slowly turned. Nodded.
“Why?”
His shining eyes moved from Ava to Malachi, then back again.
You are beautiful together. She would want to see such beauty.
When Ava blinked, he was gone.
Chapter Fifteen
THE NEXT MORNING, MALACHI dragged himself out of bed when he heard the sound of carriages clopping down the street nearby.
Ava’s sleepy voice stopped him. “Babe?”
“I’m going to the Library, canım.”
She burrowed farther. “So early. Wanted to talk to you about…”
“Ava?” He smiled when he realized she’d drifted back to sleep.
“I’m awake. Kinda. Funny dream. Why so early?”
“We have to go through the cleansing ritual first.”
“Explain later, okay?
“I will.” He brushed a kiss over her temple, then started toward the door. “You’re with Sari today?”
“Mmhmm. Love you. See you tonight. I’ll tell you then, okay?”
“Okay.”
Malachi closed the door softly and paused, his palm pressed to the wood.
It was a little thing. The sleepy greeting. The recitation of the day’s activities and the kiss good-bye.
Love you. See you tonight.
A simple thing. Infinitely precious.
And precarious.
Even with his memories returning, his world had never felt more uncertain. Fallen angels played with mortal lives as if they were pawns on a chess board, and an insidious threat lived in his mate’s own blood.
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