The Secret (10 page)

Read The Secret Online

Authors: Elizabeth Hunter

Tags: #Contemporary Fantasy, #Angels, #Paranormal Romance, #Mystery, #Vienna, #Fiction, #Paranormal Mystery, #Soul mates

BOOK: The Secret
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“Wait.” Ava put a hand on his lower back. “I think…”

He turned and put a finger to his lips. “Wait here,” he mouthed, tracing his
talesm prim
. He felt the wash of magic over his skin. His eyes grew sharper. His ears keener.
 

“But I think—”

In one movement, Malachi shoved the door open and rolled in, staying low as his eyes swept the room. Leo was on the floor in the corner, a woman straddling him with a staff across his neck. The big man was trying to throw her off, but she only pressed down harder, the muscles rippling in her lean brown arms. Leo scissored his legs in an attempt to flip her, but the woman pushed into it, angling the staff even harder against his throat.

Malachi heard his brother choking. He charged the woman, ignoring his mate’s shouts from the doorway. With a bent shoulder, he tackled her to the ground, only to have her twist away before he could put her in a choke hold. Her staff came up and struck his temple, but he shook his head and brought up his dagger to attack.

“No!” Leo jumped between Malachi and the woman. “Malachi! Don’t you remember Mala?”

Mala?

A faint memory from Oslo. Mala was one of Sari’s Irina. A fierce warrior who’d lost her mate during the Rending and almost lost her own life in a battle near Lagos.

He shook his head. “Mala?”

“We were only sparring.” Leo was panting. But grinning too. “She’s amazing. Such skill with the short staff! I’ve never fought an Irina before. Are they all like this?”

Leo sounded as excited as a child at his Naming Day celebration.

“Mala!” Ava ran over, laughing as she embraced the dark-eyed warrior. “Please don’t kill my mate. We just got home. We weren’t expecting you.”

The corner of the woman’s full lips turned up. She embraced Ava with one arm, then pulled back, using her hands to sign.

“Slowly,” Ava said. “I’m out of practice.”

Mala signed again. Ava nodded, still grinning. “I’ll tell him. She says you have a strong tackle, but you should work on your balance. Strength is no substitute for grace.”
 

Malachi glowered.

“Hey.” Ava held up her hands. “Don’t kill the messenger.”

His eyes shifted to Mala, who only looked amused. It was a welcome expression on an otherwise fearsome face. The Irina had been beautiful once. Was still beautiful. But her jawline was marred by horrible scars that looked like an animal had attempted to rip out her throat. That was why she did not speak. The Grigori had taken her voice.

Malachi held out his hand. “Well met, sister. You are a fierce opponent.”

Mala bowed slightly, then turned to Leo. Ava translated when she started signing.

“I think… she says you rely too much on your size. A smaller opponent is often more… flexible?” Ava paused, watching Mala. “Nimble?” Mala nodded and continued. “She says you should practice dancing.” Ava frowned. “Really? Dancing?”

Mala nodded vigorously.

“I can do that,” Leo said with a grin. “But I’d need an Irina partner.”

Mala picked up her staff and walked out of the room.

Leo said, “I guess that means she doesn’t volunteer.”

“I’ll dance with you, Leo.”

“Are you any good?”

“Not really. But at least you won’t make me pass out, which is an improvement over most partners you’re going to find around here.”

“True.”

Malachi sheathed the knife and tried to calm a heart that still raced. “Leo, do you still want to spar?” he asked. “I’ve been on a plane all morning and I’d love to stretch my legs.”

“Of course.” The big man picked up the second staff that was lying on the mat of the training room. “Ava, Orsala arrived with Mala.”

Ava groaned and covered her eyes. “No.”

Malachi went to her and kissed her temple. “She’s probably with Rhys in the library, devising more magical torture for you. The longer you delay, the worse it will be.”

“Save me,” she said.

“I will battle Grigori for you,
canım
,” he said gallantly. “I’ll abandon heaven and cross continents.”

“My hero!”

“But I will not interfere with that old singer’s plans. Do you think I want to die again?”

She slapped his backside and walked toward the door. “Leo, kick his ass for me. He’s getting way too cocky.”

Malachi only laughed. “I love you, Ava.”

Leo said, “I love you too, Ava. Good luck with Orsala.”

“Both of you—useless!”

“MALACHI?”
 

He looked up from his drawing pad. “Orsala?”

The old woman smiled tentatively when she walked into the room. She wore the silver hair and lined face of an Irina who had stopped her longevity spells. Malachi had heard her mate had been killed years ago, so allowing herself to age and pass away was not unexpected.

“Am I interrupting?” she asked.

“Not at all.” He pushed the sketches to the side. He had several
talesm
he’d been planning to scribe once they were back in Istanbul, and he needed to practice the characters. But sketching could wait. Malachi had a feeling she wanted to talk about his mate. “Is Ava—”

“She’s fine. Resting, I think. She went to your room with a headache. I believe she was becoming frustrated.”

He rose to go to her, but Orsala put a hand on his shoulder. “If I could have a moment…”

Malachi paused. “What is it?”

“She is very resistant.”

“To using her magic?”

“Yes.”

“I know.” He took a deep breath. “She’s afraid of what she can do.”

She smiled, and warm creases formed around her silver-blue eyes. “I do not want to interfere. Or ask you to break her confidence. I want to help her.”

“Let me talk to her again.”

“Thank you.”

“I warn you, though.” He gathered his papers and turned to leave. “I will not pressure her to use her magic if she’s not ready. My loyalty is to her, not any cause.”

“As it should be,” Orsala said. “You remind me much of my own mate. He was highly protective, even when I was at my strongest.”

“It is when we are strongest that we often don’t protect ourselves,” he said. “Whatever her destiny is in this life, it is my job to defend her.”

“For the Irina, I think the time has come for offense, not defense.”

He shook his head. “I’m not talking about the Irina. I’m talking about Ava. I will not let her be dragged into a war of your making, Orsala. However much I may support your cause, her part in it will be of her choosing.”

“She has not chosen this,” the old woman countered, “but Jaron has. The Fallen has targeted her.”

“And protected her.”

“I know.” Orsala stepped closer. “We need to know why. There is a darkness in her. A darkness to her magic that I have never seen before.”

“I do not fear her darkness.”

“Nor should you. But we need to understand it so we may understand her. She needs to understand herself, Malachi. If you do not fear the darkness, then do not shield your mate from it, either. Sometimes we must do exactly the thing that terrifies us most in order that we may live the life we were meant to have.”

WHEN he reached their bedroom, he knocked. It was their shared room, but if she was exhausted—

“Come in, Malachi.”

He pushed the door open. Ava was lying on the bed in a beam of sunlight, the sun catching red strands in her hair. Her eyes were closed. Her forehead smooth.

“Orsala said your head was hurting.”

“I lied. Kind of.”
 

He toed off his shoes and lay down next to her. “What’s wrong?”

Ava rolled over to make room for him. “You know, I think this was what I missed the most when you were gone.”

He said nothing. The fact that she was talking about her grief was extraordinary enough. He didn’t want to interrupt her.

“I missed lying next to you. Just… that. Not sex. Not even your touch. I missed all those things, but it was just… you. Being here. Knowing that someone gave a shit about me other than my mom. Knowing you were beside me at night.” She moved her leg over to hook it around his knee. “I could reach out for you if I needed you. Or just wanted you. When I had that… I’d never had that before.”

He took a deep breath. “Sometimes I feel as if I’m a second mate. As if you grieved for someone entirely different. That you still grieve.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t.” He rolled over and watched her face in profile. Her eyes were still closed. But now there were lines of tension on her forehead. He took a finger and smoothed them away. “Don’t be sorry. You lost me, but I never lost you. I think I would go quite mad if our roles had been reversed. The man I am now has always had you. My memories began with you, so I never felt the pain you did. You were where I began, Ava. I was the lucky one.”

She choked out a laugh even as the tears leaked from the corner of her eye. “You were the one who died.”

“But that pain only lasted a heartbeat. Yours lasted for months. Please, don’t hide your grief from me.”

“I’m afraid,” she whispered. “At night I wake up, and for a second, you’re gone again.”

“Reach out. You’ll find me.”

“I’m afraid if I reach for you, I’ll find out this is a dream. That I’m caught in some kind of delusion. I don’t know what’s real in the dark.”

He rolled over and drew her back to his chest, wrapping his arm around her waist. He called up the ancient magic that lived in his skin, allowing his
talesm
to glow. “Look, Ava.”

She opened her eyes.
 

“When the darkness comes, reach for me.”

She said nothing, but he could feel her fear.

“What are you afraid of? It’s not just losing me again.”

“I don’t—”

“Don’t lie.” He tapped a finger against her temple. “I can tell.”

“I think…” She put her hands over his and gripped them tightly. “I think my magic is evil, Malachi.”

“It’s not evil. I’ve felt it. It’s beautiful.”

“It’s dark.”

“Dark does not equal evil.” He took a deep breath and felt her match him. They lay together, quietly enjoying the afternoon sun. “Is this because of what happened on the roof with Jaron?”

“It’s more than that.”

“Tell me.”

Ava said nothing for a long while.

“I saw a black angel once,” she whispered. “There was a Grigori attacking me in Norway. He’d broken into the room with another who’d gone after Mala. They were trying… I don’t know what they were trying to do. Kill us? Capture us for Volund, maybe? But he was on me, and I’d made him angry by fighting back. His hand was on my throat.”

Malachi forced his body to remain calm as he held her, but the rage bubbled beneath his skin.

“What happened?”

“I couldn’t remember the spells, and I was so mad. I was
furious
. I’d lost you. Lost so much. And he was trying to take more. I felt this darkness well up inside me. It poured out of me. I opened my mouth, but I couldn’t speak. It didn’t matter. I could hear… wind. And then it was like the shadows in the room came to life. There was a figure. It felt like Jaron, but more. Darker. Heavier. There was no substance to it. Like a vacuum. And the closer I looked, the more it drew me in.”

He couldn’t help it. His arms tightened around her. “Ava—”

“Feathers,” she whispered. “It sounded like feathers.”

His stomach dropped, and his heart pounded. “What happened?”

She stared at the ceiling, lost in the memory. “I heard screaming, but it wasn’t me. I think I passed out from his hand on my throat. By the time I came back, it was the Grigori screaming. His eyes were open. He was staring into nothing as if he’d seen it too. But it had captured him. It wasn’t letting go.”

Ava’s voice dropped to barely a whisper. “He was so terrified. And I knew… He’d seen what I saw. But the shadow took him. I wanted him to see it, and he did.”

“Ava, this was not…”

…your fault.
Malachi couldn’t say it. Because it might have been a lie. No one knew what she was capable of.

Thousands of you, Scribe. One of her.

“What was it?” She rolled over to face him. “That shadow? You know, don’t you?”

He didn’t want to tell her what he thought. But this was his mate. She’d know if he tried to lie or avoid the question.

“Death,” he said. “You saw Death.”

“How do you know?” she asked. “Maybe it was one of the Fallen. There are probably—”

“He is not one of the Fallen. He is Death.”

She shook her head, dread marking her face. “No.”

“Ava, I’ve probably seen him, even though I don’t remember.”

“Don’t…” She sat up in the bed. “So, there really is an angel of death?”

He nodded. “Our books say he is neither Fallen nor Forgiven. He is Death. Some scriptures call him Azril. He comes for any with angelic blood. He is neither good nor evil. His job is to gather souls that have been released.”

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