The Singer

  “This sounds like an argument that can’t be won,” Ava said with a false smile. “Hey, Orsala. I see you met Rhys.”

  She smiled until her eyes creased. “Such fun to debate with a knowledgeable partner. I met Rhys’s mother many years ago. She would be proud of his good mind.”

  Ava saw the blush at Rhys’s neck, but she ignored it and said, “I heard we have some place to go?”

  He nodded and finished the cup of coffee in front of him. “Sari and Damien are over at Max’s house. During the day, the Grigori activity seems to be slow. I thought we’d head over for lunch.”

  “Sure. Why not? Orsala, you want to come?”

  “I have something to speak to Lang about when he wakes, then I believe I will spend some time with Brooke and Candace.” She smiled and patted Rhys’s shoulder. “Conversation with the young is a joy to the old.”

  “Okay.” She nodded toward the door. “I’m ready when you are.”

  He stood and grabbed a jacket that was lying over the back of a chair. They walked to the door and Rhys grabbed her hand, bending down to speak quietly in her ear.

  “I’m sorry about before. In your room. Your dreams are none of my business, Ava.”

  She didn’t want to think about her dreams. Or his apology. “It’s fine.”

  “No, it’s not. We all grieve in our own way. I just hope… I hope you’ll be better soon.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  Rhys smiled, and there was a knowing gleam in his eye. “I think you’ll be more than fine.”

  She opened the door and walked out into the glowing white of the street. It was cold—according to Orsala—even for Oslo. It usually didn’t reach the lowest temperatures until later in the winter.

  “Just lucky for me, I guess,” she muttered to herself.

  “What?” Rhys closed the door, testing to make sure it was locked.

  “Nothing.” She heard the complicated alarm system Lang had tried to explain to her beep in their wake before she and Rhys started walking.

  “Do you have a car?”

  “It’s at Max’s. They dropped me off earlier. We can catch a taxi up the street. It’s not far.”

  They walked in silence, the air frosting their breath as Ava tucked her scarf closer around her neck. Something itched under her skin. She’d noticed it that morning in the shower. It was almost as if she could feel her mating marks moving. The skin along her spine and neck crawled with energy. It wasn’t painful, just an awareness of the marks he had left on her. The marks that would never go away. She wondered if she would feel them less and less as the years went by. Maybe, if she wasn’t around other Irin, she wouldn’t notice them as much.

  Rhys walked in silence. Suspicious, she opened her mind. His inner voice was a confused jumble, but she could pick out a few words. Her knowledge of the Old Language was growing.

  Stop.

  Pain.

  Malachi.

  Mate.

  Malachi.

  Malachi.

  Malachi.

  Her soul welled in grief at the sound of his name. Rhys’s thoughts circled until she locked down her mind with a few whispered words.

  “What?” He looked down.

  “Sorry. You were… loud.”

  He blinked at her, startled. “And you used a spell to shut me out. You can understand my thoughts now?”

  “Not much. Just… It’s never the way people think, you know? Now that I can understand bits of the Old Language, I realize people don’t think in complete sentences. Or their souls don’t, I guess. It’s more like… impressions. A word here or there. A phrase. It’s more emotion than distinct thoughts.”

  “Oh.” He turned at the corner and headed toward a taxi stand. It was the middle of the week and traffic was light, but it still took a few minutes for a car to show up. They slid in the back and Ava rubbed her hands together, happy to be in the heat again.

  Rhys leaned forward. “Pardon me. English?”

  “Of course.”

  He gave the driver an address, then sat back and looked at her. Then he looked away and stared out the window.

  “I know you’re worried about me, Rhys.”

  “You have no idea.”

  “I’m fine. Really. This is normal, right?” She tried to explain it in a way that would leave him unconcerned about her future. “Like you said, we all grieve in different ways. This is a step. It’s hard for me to be around you, because you remind me of… Malachi.” She forced herself to use his name. “That will pass in time. God knows, I’m not the only woman in the world to lose a partner. I’ll be fine.”

  She was surprised when he grabbed her hand.

  “Just… wait,” he said. “Don’t shut down on me. Don’t draw away.”

  The intensity of his voice rocked her. What was going on? Did Rhys have feelings for her? There had been a flirtation at the beginning, but she could have sworn they were past it.

  “Rhys, you know I only think of you as a friend, right?”

  He shook his head. “It’s not that. I mean, yes, of course I know—”

  “I’m not even thinking of anyone that way right now. I can’t.” Her concern for him broke through her resolve. The last thing she needed was to break a friend’s heart before she cut him—all of them—out of her life. “And I don’t want you to think—”

  “Ava!” He pressed his lips together when he saw the driver looking back at them suspiciously. “I’m not talking about my feelings for you. Which are only of friendship, of course. I’m talking about—”

  “Then what’s all the talk about me shutting down and drawing away?”

  “I just…” He almost looked as if he was in pain. “There are some things… some mysteries—”

  “Here!” The car jerked to a halt in front of a large, modern apartment building. The driver looked at Ava. “Are you getting out with him, miss? Or can I take you to another address?”

  Ava smiled at his concern. “I’m fine here. Thank you.”

  Rhys paid the driver and slid silently from the car, holding out a hand to help her on the icy sidewalk. As the taxi pulled away, he put both hands on her shoulders and dipped his head down to meet her eyes.

  “There are some magics—some destinies—we can only guess at. As much as I study, as much as I revere science and strive to be a rational scholar, I can never forget this. We are”—he let out a rueful laugh—“descended from angels, Ava. There are some mysteries only heaven knows. Remember that.”

  She frowned. “I know.”

  “Remember that.”

  “Will you just tell me what the hell is going on, Rhys? I’m starting to worry.”

  He grabbed her hand and pulled her into the lobby. “Welcome to my world for the past few weeks.”

  As soon as Ava walked through the door, her senses were assaulted. There was something seriously… other about Max’s place. She ignored Sari and Renata’s warm greetings. She ignored Damien’s obvious concern. She felt like she was going to jump out of her skin. She flinched when Max put a hand on her shoulder.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “You tell me.” She crossed her arms and stepped away from him. “I don’t… I don’t feel good. What’s going on?”

  All five of them exchanged worried glances, but Ava had a hard time focusing on anything but the crawling feeling beneath her skin. She took a deep breath and tried to calm down, but it was difficult. Her instincts urged her to flee.

  “Ava,” Damien started.

  “Where’s Leo?”

  She rubbed her arms. Her skin was going crazy. She whispered another spell to shut out the souls in the room that were practically shouting at her. The tension caused her stomach to pitch.

  “I think… I need to go.”

  “Ava, why don’t you sit down?” Sari said.

  Her breathing picked up. “What’s going on here? What’s wrong with this place?”

  Rhys stepped forward and raised his hands. “Remember what I to
ld you, Ava. Remember what I said.”

  “What?” She didn’t remember anything. She felt battered. There was too much going on. Too many thoughts. Too many emotions. And threading through the chaos was the echo of a voice that couldn’t be. Malachi’s voice. She hadn’t heard it months. Not since she’d started lessons with Orsala. The memory of it shoved her back painfully. Ava felt the tears come to her eyes, but she blinked them back.

  “Rhys, I want to go.”

  “No!” Renata almost shouted. “You can’t.”

  “Please,” Max said. “Ava, if you’d just sit down and—”

  “Where’s Leo?” she asked again. She would see him, then leave. She couldn’t stay in this apartment any longer. “Where is he? I just want to see him and then I’ll go back. I don’t want to be here.”

  A door down the hall burst open and Leo came charging out with a smile. “Hello, sister.” He rushed over and picked her up in his arms, swinging her around. She buried her face in his chest and took a deep breath.

  “I missed you, Ava.”

  “I missed you, too.” His arms were warm and steady around her, a familiar comfort. “I’m sorry, Leo. I… I need to go.”

  “No. Please, stay. Everything will be all right.”

  “It’s not you. I just don’t feel good.”

  “There is someone here, Ava. Someone—”

  “Your shirt.” She picked at the button on the front, frowning. Something about it.

  “You need to sit down. We don’t want to shock you, but… There’s no easy way to say this.”

  There was something about the scent of his shirt. Ava took a deep breath as Leo’s hand smoothed over her head.

  “We all missed you so much.”

  “What is that?” she murmured, staring at the warm flannel that covered his chest.

  “What?”

  Her head reared back when she placed the smell. “What the hell?”

  Ava shoved away from him, holding up her hands, backing away from all six of her friends.

  “Your shirt, Leo.” She didn’t want to be mad, but months of suppressed anger reared up. She’d tried. She’d tried so hard to keep going. And no matter what she did, Malachi followed her. In her memories. Her dreams. Now, even the scent of him crept up on her from his brother’s clothes. It was wrong. So wrong.

  Leo only looked confused. “My shirt?”

  “It smells—that smells like Malachi’s shirt! Are you wearing his shirts now? Why would you do that?”

  Leo grabbed for her hand, but she was already heading toward the door. Whatever sick intervention they had planned was over. She was done. Gone. She never wanted to see them again. She needed to get as far away from their twisted world as she could. Ava was getting off the Irin roller coaster, and she never wanted to—

  “Ava, please!” Rhys cried out. He ran to her, wrapping his arms around her before she could open the door. “We didn’t know how to tell you. We didn’t know what was right.”

  She whirled around in his arms. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  The memory of his voice grew louder. It pressed on her. Without her volition, she saw the mating marks at her wrists begin to glow.

  Rhys saw them, too. “Open your mind, Ava. Remember what I said. Look at your arms and listen. Don’t you hear him? Don’t you feel him?”

  The memories crashed through her. “Why are you doing this?” she said, tears falling from her eyes. “Why?”

  Leo stepped forward and raised his hands in supplication. “He’s alive, Ava.”

  “No.”

  “We didn’t know how to tell you.”

  “Shut up. Shut up!” She could feel it. Her heart was actually breaking in her chest. “Why would you even say that? I saw him die! Let me go, Rhys. This is sick—”

  “We don’t know how,” Rhys whispered. “He’s alive. Your magic. His. Malachi is alive.”

  “What the fuck are you talking about?” she yelled. “I saw him die! I felt him die!”

  Leo pointed down the hall. “He’s in the bedroom, Ava. I’m not lying. It’s been killing him not to come to you.”

  She shook her head and wiped the tears from her red, angry cheeks. “I’m leaving. Now. You people are crazy. Rhys, let me go.”

  “Listen,” Renata commanded. “Listen to him! I can hear his voice, and I’m not even his mate.”

  “Ava, please!”

  A muffled shout echoed down the hall, and everyone fell silent.

  Her heart stopped, and her mind went blank.

  It couldn’t be.

  She’d finally broken. She’d been expecting it for years. Maybe it had all been an illusion. Some desperate construct of a sick and lonely mind. Her knees buckled and she went limp as Rhys lifted her.

  “Take her to him,” Leo said.

  “No.” Ava shook her head.

  Rhys carried her down the hall. Ava fought the urge to vomit. Her head swam. The crawling feeling came to her skin again, and the dark voices fluttered at the edges of her mind.

  “Rhys,” she whispered, eyeing the door with painful dread. “Don’t. Please, let me go.”

  “You have to see,” he said. “You have to see it’s real.”

  “Don’t. Please don’t.”

  They were at the door. Rhys set her down and pushed it open. Ava drew back but could not stop her eyes from peering into the dimly lit room.

  A dark figure was pacing in the lamplight, his hands tearing at his hair. He turned to her, and tortured grey eyes met her own.

  A ghost. A dream.

  “Ava.”

  She slammed the door and ran.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  He shot out of the room. Waiting in the bedroom while she cried had almost broken him. He couldn’t lose her.

  “Ava!”

  They all got out of his way. He caught up to her before she could make it to the door.

  “Ava, please!”

  “No! No no no no no…” She said it over and over. She closed her eyes when his arms wrapped around her. She shook her head and turned her face away.

  “I’m alive.”

  “No.”

  “It’s me.” He buried his face in her neck, inhaling the sweet smell of her skin. She was shivering, but her mating marks glowed against his. Gold on silver. Shining as he held her back from bolting to the door.

  “You’re dead,” she whispered. “I felt it. I can’t—”

  “I’m not dead. I came back.”

  There was nothing from her but a sob. The tears leaked from her closed eyes, and he sank to the ground with Ava in his arms.

  “I came back to you,” he whispered, his lips pressed to her temple. “Vashama canem, reshon. I heard you. It was the only thing I heard.”

  She had stopped struggling, but her eyes were still closed.

  “Look at me, Ava.”

  She shook her head.

  “You think you’re crazy, don’t you?”

  She nodded, still silent.

  “You’re not crazy.” Malachi forced his voice to harden, even as he held her as softly as he could. “Ava, look at me.”

  Her head did not lift.

  “Look at your mate.”

  He felt her shoulders begin to soften. And the fists he gripped in his hands tentatively turned their palms to his.

  “I saw you in the spice market,” he began, thinking back to the dreams he thought had only been illusions. The flickers of memory his mind had recovered. “It smelled of cloves and honey.”

  Her head lifted a little.

  “And you were carrying an old leather case. I followed you because… you fascinated me.”

  She finally opened her eyes but didn’t look directly at him. Their friends stood, surrounding them, holding their collective breath, but Malachi pretended they weren’t even there.

  He leaned down to her ear and whispered, “I met you in the forest. I found you, and I picked you up off the ground. I held you, and I loved you under the stars. You thoug
ht they were only dreams. I did, too.”

  Ava finally turned to him, her eyes wide and wet with tears.

  “I tried to ask you where you were. From the moment I woke, all I have searched for is you.”

  She lifted a hand, tentatively touching his jaw. He saw her lips form his name, but no sound escaped.

  “I was helpless in the forest. I lost you again, and I thought I would lose my mind.”

  “This is real?”

  He nodded.

  “This is real?” she asked again, her voice rising. Her other hand joined the first, touching his face. Tracing his lips, then moving down his body. She turned in his arms, but her hands never left his face. His neck. His shoulders.

  “It’s me, Ava.”

  She laughed once. Sharp. Painful to his ears. Then she buried her face in his neck and inhaled. “Your smell,” she said, her lips pressed against his neck as his arms tightened around her. “It’s you. I smelled you on Leo’s shirt, and I thought—”

  “It’s me, Ava. I promise. It’s not a trick.”

  “It’s… impossible!”

  “I know.”

  She burst into tears again, but this time he heard relief, not panic. He felt their friends relax, and he saw Damien pull Sari into an embrace.

  “It’s not possible,” she said again, sniffling.

  “I know it’s not. It just… is.”

  She picked her head up, narrowed her eyes on him, then leaned forward, shocking him when her lips met his.

  It was everything. So much more than the liquid quality of their dreams, Ava’s lips were heat and life. His mouth opened to her tongue as she forced her way inside. Tasting him. Drawing back to bite the edge of his lip as he groaned in pleasure. He buried his hands in her hair, pressing her closer. Their teeth clashed. She drew back, only to have him pull her forward again.

  He could live on the taste of her tongue in his mouth. The reality of her. The bitter edge of coffee and the salt of tears. And the taste of her. Her. It was no dream. She was real beneath his hands. Her flesh gave, and the sharp crescents of her fingernails dug into his shoulders.

  Malachi heard murmuring around them, but he ignored it.

  Ava finally pulled back, her lips swollen and red. Her eyes wide. “It’s really you.”