The Silent

  “I wasn’t talking about Niran.” Sura smiled. “I think I would like to meet this scribe friend of yours. Tomorrow night, maybe?”

  Kyra narrowed her eyes. “Are you trying to cause trouble?”

  “Trouble is life made interesting, isn’t it?” Sura said, backing up the path. “So yes. Maybe I’m trying to cause trouble. Sleep well, sister. I’ll calm Niran down by morning.”

  Kyra stopped a block away from the hotel.

  “What are you doing?” Sura asked. He frowned, his hands in his pockets. This night, he wore loose linen pants and a white dress shirt. With his head shaved, he still looked monk-like. “This is the way to the hotel. I’ve walked past it before.”

  “I’m…” Nervous. Excited. Confused. Eager. Unsure. Kyra cleared her throat and tried to stop her heart from pounding out of her chest. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

  “You trust this scribe?”

  “Yes.” Of that she was certain. Never had Leo given her any reason to distrust him.

  Sura paused. “I think you are hesitating because of feelings you may have for him as a man. However, we also need to ask him what interest the Bangkok scribe house has in us. I’ve wondered for some time if they would be suspicious of our practice of Sak Yant on Grigori because it helps us control our magic.”

  “But it makes you less violent. Controls your instincts.”

  “Exactly,” Sura said. “Which is good for our city, but also could make us a greater threat in their eyes.”

  That hadn’t even occurred to Kyra. Would the Irin scribe houses actually sabotage free Grigori to keep them from harnessing their magic for good?

  Kyra started walking again. “Sirius has complained that the Irin will not teach free Grigori their magic, but I cannot imagine they would keep the Grigori completely at the mercy of their basest instincts.”

  “I’m sure the most honorable of them—like your Leo—would not.” Sura sidestepped a large family exiting a restaurant. It was nighttime again, and the lanterns strung across the street glowed with cheerful red light. “But not all Irin are honorable.”

  “You’re talking about the ones who tried to take Prija?”

  Sura had told Kyra about the attempted abduction that morning at breakfast. Prija often wandered, but she usually stayed in the forest. This particular time, she’d walked toward the human village and the small temple where the locals worshipped. No one was certain whether the Irin scribes had been looking for Grigori or if it was purely a coincidence, but two men with heavy tattoos on their arms had tried to grab Prija and take her toward a car. She had screamed, causing both the men to bleed from their ears and run back into the forest. It took four days to find her. Some of the humans in the village had told Niran about the episode when they heard a girl had gone missing.

  Sura said, “There are good and bad people everywhere. The Irin have a culture that promotes honor. We can learn from that. But that doesn’t make them perfect, just as our birth doesn’t condemn us to being demons.”

  Kyra saw the sign for the hotel. Having a list of questions helped Kyra conquer her nerves, but the butterflies in her stomach didn’t settle completely. “So we need to ask about why the Bangkok house is watching you.”

  “And also find answers for Prija if possible.”

  “That happened over a year ago,” Kyra said. “He might not know anything about it.”

  “But whoever is with him would.”

  “Leo said he was alone.”

  “No.” Sura smiled a little. “Niran said he claimed to have no other scribes with him.”

  “You mean…”

  “The Bangkok house is well known for their female warriors,” Sura said. “I’m surprised it escaped Niran’s attention. There.” Sura pointed at a high, nondescript gate across the road. “This is where we must knock.”

  “But the hotel sign is here.”

  “That is only for show. This hotel is very discreet.” Sura knocked at the wooden gate. “This is where he will be staying.”

  Within moments, the garden gate cracked open and a short woman with neat silver hair offered Sura a polite wai in greeting. They exchanged a few words of Thai, and the woman shook her head. Sura spoke again, this time in a longer string of words. He motioned to Kyra and said something else. Seeing Kyra turned the woman’s face from polite reluctance to cheerful welcome. She opened the gate and waved them inside, offering another wai before she escorted them across a small bridge and toward two low houses that sat on the other end of a garden.

  More lanterns burned there, along with candles and the distinct tang of mosquito coils and lemongrass. Sura spoke to the hostess, who nodded and walked away, leaving them in the candlelit garden where a bubbling fountain was the only background music.

  “She says our friends are the quiet sort, but they told her they might have visitors, though they only mentioned you.”

  “I’m glad she didn’t kick you out.” Kyra rubbed her palms on the long flowing skirt she wore. She’d told herself not to take extra time with her appearance, then utterly failed and checked her reflection at least a dozen times.

  She’d lost weight since she saw him in Rěkaves. The past year had been stressful, and she often forgot to eat. Her face was thin and tan, and her hair was bleached from the sun. She looked like one of the girls on the beaches of the Black Sea who came and stayed on the sand for too long, though her skin was still soft and didn’t resemble leather like theirs.

  “You look lovely,” Sura said quietly.

  “It’s not important.” Kyra shook her head. “It’s never been important.”

  Sura looked at her.

  “What?”

  “It bothers you,” he said. “Being beautiful.”

  Kyra had known from a young age that she was far more beautiful than most women. It was an accident of angelic blood, yet she was given respect and privileges for no other reason than her looks. After living with her own beauty for so long—being the object of lust for so many while constantly sensing their true thoughts—superficial beauty felt like a burden she would happily lay down given the chance.

  “It’s nothing I’ve done,” she said. “I’m like a pretty, useless vase bought to decorate a shelf. An object.”

  “I think you are unfair to both yourself and to the vase.”

  She scoffed. “I’m being unfair to the vase?”

  Sura looked up. “Look at these lanterns. These flowers. Creating more beauty in the world is never a bad thing if it is offered freely and accepted with grace. There is something beautiful about desiring to please another when it is not an obligation. It can be a gift we give those we love.”

  His perspective humbled Kyra. “I’ve never thought about it that way.”

  “I’m sure Leo sees what I see,” Sura said. “A gifted woman with a generous heart. That is the most beautiful thing of all.”

  “I’m sure he sees—”

  “You.” A voice came from the other end of the garden. Leo stepped out from the shadows. His face was glowing. “I see you.”

  Her heart seized again, just like it had at the market the previous night. Would he ever stop having this effect on her? It was very disconcerting.

  “Sura,” Kyra said, “this is Leo. Leo, please meet Sura, Niran’s brother.”

  Leo blinked and tore his eyes from Kyra. “Sura,” he said, walking toward them with an outstretched hand. “It is a pleasure to meet any friend of Kyra’s.”

  “I feel exactly the same way,” Sura said. “Join us for a beer?”

  “You must be the calm one.” Leo grinned. “I’d love to.”

  “That’s the reason I came,” Leo said, talking loudly to shout over the band playing at the end of the street. “They knew you were here and they knew you were patrolling the city regularly. They want to open a dialogue. See if you’re open to cooperation.”

  Sura nodded. “And this is something you have practice in?”

  “Leo and his cousin Maxim have coordinated
with my brothers for years now,” Kyra said, leaning over the table. “They seem to work well together.”

  “Not that Kostas can stand me,” Leo said. “He doesn’t like anyone who is too interested in Kyra.”

  She blushed, but Sura answered as if Leo had said nothing extraordinary. “Kyra’s brothers reached out to us asking for information. We wanted something in return.”

  “Which was?”

  Kyra said, “They have sisters of their own. Four of them. The youngest is only thirteen. They’d heard that I could teach them to shield their minds.”

  Leo said, “An exchange?”

  “It seemed like the fairest way,” Sura said. “Our sisters needed help that Kyra could give. We have practices that could help Kostas and his brothers control their magic more. She would come here first. If she proved trustworthy, her brothers could be sent.”

  Leo raised an eyebrow. “Kostas didn’t approve this, did he?”

  “Sirius did,” Kyra said. “Kostas is furious with both of us right now, but I text him regularly. He knows I’m safe and that I’m doing something important.”

  Leo smiled. “Guts. Ava would say you have them.”

  Kyra shook her head. “That phrase has never made sense to me. Everyone has intestines.”

  Sura raised his hand for another beer. “I’d like to know who you’ve brought with you, scribe.”

  “Excuse me?” Leo finished off his bottle. “Who I’ve brought?”

  “I see two women watching us from the noodle stand,” Sura said, waving. “Can I assume they are both Irina?”

  “What?” Kyra blinked. She thought she had good instincts, but she hadn’t spotted either woman. One appeared Thai and the other European. They disappeared by the time she’d looked twice.

  Leo shook his head. “You’ve got good eyes. Yes, they’re Irina. One from Bangkok and one local.”

  “I thought I recognized the taller girl,” Sura said. “She’s come up to the village before. She trains in one of the gyms here in Chiang Mai.”

  “Trains for what?” Kyra asked.

  “Muay thai,” a cheerful voice called in an American accent. “I’m Ginny. What’s your name?” She stuck out her hand.

  “Kyra.” She took the woman’s hand, somewhat cowed by her energy. “I’m Kyra.”

  “Nice to meet you.” Ginny sat down next to Kyra and raised her hand to get the waiter’s attention. She held up two fingers and motioned to the table.

  “And I’m Alyah,” the other woman said, sitting next to Leo. “From Bangkok.”

  “From the scribe house,” Sura said.

  “Yes, but don’t hold that against her,” Ginny said. “She’s still okay.”

  Superficially, the two women couldn’t have looked more different. Ginny looked more human than any Irina Kyra had met. She didn’t have the reserve or formality and reminded Kyra more of Ava’s easy manner. Maybe it was an American thing. Her skin was suntanned, and she had gold streaks in her long brown hair. Her smile was easy and bright. The Thai woman was shorter, her body compact and strong. Kyra could see defined muscles in her arms and shoulders. Her hair was cut in short layers around her face, and she didn’t smile easily.

  But both women moved with the innate confidence Kyra associated with the Irina. They were warriors. Survivors. Women with centuries of history and an extensive command of magic. Kyra could feel it surrounding them. Feel the warmth and energy they projected. Without even trying, Irina always made Kyra feel small.

  Sura nodded at Ginny. “I know you.”

  Ginny smiled. “And I know you. Nice tattoos.”

  “Thank you. I did most of them myself.”

  “I thought so.”

  Leo clapped his hands together once. “That’s what it is. The tattoos. I’ve been trying to figure out what Kostas and Sirius want. It’s the tattoos. They’re human, but you’ve found a way for them to help you with your natural magic. That’s why Kyra is here.”

  Sura nodded. “You are correct.”

  Ginny said, “Oh, that is way cool.”

  “It is way cool,” Sura said cautiously, eyeing Alyah. “And what does the Bangkok scribe house think of Grigori using Sak Yant?”

  “The Bangkok scribe house doesn’t have an opinion about it,” Alyah said. “My task—with Leo’s help—is to start a dialogue with you. I’m not here to talk about tattooing. Sounds like scribe business to me.”

  Sura still looked skeptical. “A dialogue about what?”

  “You have options,” Leo said. “The Bangkok house considers Chiang Mai part of its territory.”

  “There is no scribe house here,” Sura said.

  “But there are humans,” Leo said. “And protecting humans from Grigori is the mandate of every scribe house and every individual scribe, warrior or not.”

  Kyra sat up straighter. “The Grigori here don’t hunt humans.”

  “So they say,” Leo said. “Kyra, I cannot simply take their word for it. We have to ask questions.”

  Before Kyra could respond, Ginny spoke up. “So ask questions,” she said. “I live here. I train here. I keep an eye on things. I don’t answer to any overbearing scribe house, but I’m Irina. Ask me if you want to know.”

  Leo said, “Fair enough. Have you witnessed or heard reports of any attack on humans by Grigori in Chiang Mai in the past two years?”

  “Yes,” Ginny said immediately. “And those Grigori were killed by Sura and the Grigori I assume are his brothers.”

  “How do you know it was them?” Leo asked.

  “Dude, the tattoos are pretty distinctive. The Thai scribes use a similar style, but the letters are Old Language, one hundred percent. The tattoos these guys were flashing were all Sak Yant. Hard to miss.”

  Alyah turned to Ginny. “Why must you use ‘dude’ so often?”

  “It’s a great word. Don’t hate on ‘dude.’”

  Kyra asked, “Are you from California?”

  “Yes, I am.”

  Kyra smiled at Leo. “Like Ava,” she said. “Ava says that word too.”

  Leo was staring at her. Alyah nudged him.

  “Hmm? What?”

  “You’re staring,” Alyah said. “Don’t stare.”

  “I’m… concentrating.” Leo cleared his throat. “So there have been Grigori attacks, but Sura and his brother Niran have defended the city. Sounds very much like Kostas and his brothers.”

  “I agree,” Kyra said. “I’ve been with them for three weeks. And if my opinion means anything in this—”

  “It does,” Leo said quickly.

  “—then I would say that though their methods differ, their objective is the same as my brothers’,” Kyra continued. “Sura and Niran obtained their freedom at great cost; now they are trying to live their lives and protect their community from other Fallen and the Grigori who might try to exploit the humans here.”

  “And protect our sisters,” Sura said. “And try to engender discipline within our kind for those who choose to pursue it.”

  Ginny’s eyes shone. “So you do have kareshta up there.”

  Sura said, “We do.”

  Ginny and Alyah exchanged a look that made Kyra want to question them alone. Before she could suggest the three go for a stroll through the market, Leo spoke again.

  “So now we know,” Leo said to Alyah. “They have kareshta.” He turned to Sura. “The mandate of the Irin council is that kareshta are to be protected. So what do you need? And how can we help you get it?”

  Chapter Eight

  Leo tried to keep his eyes on the road as Ginny drove over the twisting mountain paths that led to the temple where Sura and his Grigori lived. He had no problem letting Ginny drive, but the blank space before him where the steering wheel should be was disorienting. He kept his eyes on the road as she swerved around potholes and dodged motorbikes and scooters.

  Sura and Kyra had left the night before, but not before giving Ginny directions to their compound.

  She’d left. And Leo ha
d not a single minute alone with her.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” Ginny said.

  Alyah was sitting in the back seat. “That you’re a terrible driver?”

  “No, I’m an excellent driver, and I wasn’t talking to you.” She elbowed Leo. “He’s thinking, ‘How do I get some of that fine Kyra of my very own?’”

  Leo raised an eyebrow. “How old did you say you were?”

  “Old enough to know what a lonely, lonely scribe is thinking when he goes all quiet.”

  “Who said I was lonely?” Leo said.

  “Your puppy dog eyes,” Ginny said. “Alyah, am I right?”

  Leo looked over his shoulder. Alyah looked like she was very deliberately keeping her mouth shut.

  “What do you two know about being lonely?” Leo said. “Irina have never been prohibited from socializing with human men. It’s not the same.”

  “True,” Ginny said. “But we’re crap at relationships with them. Ask Alyah.”

  “Don’t bring me into this,” Alyah muttered from the back seat. “If you want to torment the scribe, do it on your own.”

  Leo was leaving that one alone. Alyah had made it very clear from the beginning that she was a warrior uninterested in a mate. They were colleagues, not friends.

  “So…” Ginny wasn’t letting up. “Give us the details, man. When did you meet her? What’s her favorite color? Dogs or cats? Are you planning on marking her and making tiny, adorable babies?” She glanced at Leo. “Come to think of it, between the two of you, they’d probably be Amazonian babies. There are some very good genes happening with both of you.”

  “I don’t…” How did one respond to an Irina with these wild ideas? She couldn’t be serious. And yet, Leo sensed she was genuinely curious. “I don’t know Kyra… intimately.” I’ve simply obsessed over her for three years and hope she is my soul mate.

  “Really?” Alyah spoke up from the back. “I didn’t get that sense.”

  “Me either,” Ginny said.

  “We met in Vienna before the battle. Her brother has known my cousin for many years, but none of us knew about the Grigori sisters. Kostas, Kyra’s brother, brought her to Vienna to stay with my watcher’s mate, Ava. They became friends, and that is how I met Kyra.”