CHAPTERTWENTY-THREE
She was still cautious around him. Still hesitant as he held her hand and walked into the scribe house.
Was the caution a result of his reappearance or because of the encounter with the frightening creature who had given her a vision? He couldn’t read her well enough to know yet. Some things were achingly familiar, but others still confounded him.
Wary smiles and respectful nods greeted Malachi as they walked past the dark entryway and back toward the kitchen. It might have been the middle of the night, but the house was clearly on alert. Malachi spotted Damien, Rhys, and Lang strategizing over a map of the city, which had been spread out over the kitchen table. Sari and an Irina elder he didn’t know were with them.
Rhys and one of Lang’s scribes were putting red and yellow dots all over the paper. The rest of the gathered company nodded at them but did not interrupt the conversation.
“Ava,” the old woman said softly, walking over to greet his mate. “I heard. I am… astonished.”
And pleased, from what Malachi could gather. Her eyes crinkled at the corners as she smiled and grabbed Ava into an embrace.
“Thank you, Orsala.”
“Have you told Brooke yet? Does everyone know? I only heard from Sari a few hours ago.”
“It just happened yesterday. And we…” He saw her cheeks flush a little. “We needed some time alone.”
“Of course, daughter.” Orsala turned to Malachi and took his hand in hers, though he kept one hand firmly anchored in his mate’s. “A blessing,” she said. “A miracle sent from heaven.” There were tears in the old woman’s eyes. “How can we know the purpose of the Creator? And yet we rejoice in it. I am so happy for you both, Malachi.”
“Thank you,” he said quietly.
The others were still quietly arguing over the map.
“—follow what I’m trying to say, Leo. The red is a confirmed attack and kill,” Rhys said. “The yellow are for attacks that were stopped, but the Grigori wasn’t eliminated.”
“So many,” Sari said. “Lang, this is far more than average, correct?”
“Yes. Activity has picked up over the past year, but the majority of these attacks have been in only the past couple of weeks.”
Damien asked, “Do we think there is any chance this increase in activity and the exposure of Sarihöfn are not related?”
Everyone was silent.
Malachi stepped forward. “There are few coincidences in the world. It’s possible, but I don’t think it’s likely.” He glanced at the map and moved closer, still holding Ava’s hand. “Tell me more about Volund.” It was Volund’s child, Brage, who had killed him, but there was little Malachi remembered about the powerful Fallen angel.
Lang said, “As far as we know, Volund still has one of his primary bases near Göteborg, which gives his soldiers easy access to the continent and a steady stream of tourists, whom his men usually target. He’s been building in power for centuries. We believe he took out the major power in Russia in the 1920s, and he appears to have connections with the lesser Fallen in Spain and France.”
Leo leaned forward and frowned, staring at the map. “Have you talked to Maxim about what he’s heard?”
Lang nodded. “Your brother has been an unexpected font of information over the past few years. I don’t know who he knows—”
“It’s better you don’t ask,” Damien said. “I never did when he was in my house.”
“I wasn’t planning on it,” Lang continued. “The sudden absence of Grigori last summer fits what you and Max have said about him making a move in Istanbul.”
“The Istanbul offensive makes no strategic sense to me,” Sari said, still staring at the map. “Why Istanbul? It’s far away from his power center. It would make more sense to approach from the north, in Russia. Or from the west.”
“Remember, milá, in some ways the Fallen are as unpredictable as the humans. They’re often creatures of impulse.”
“Particularly Volund,” Lang said. “And from what we know of him, he is a grudge holder. Istanbul could have been a personal vendetta.”
Damien shrugged. “From what I know of Jaron, I can imagine the two did not get along. Jaron was vicious, but deliberate. A planner.”
“The complete opposite of Volund, in other words,” Rhys said.
“And Jaron has a connection to Ava,” Malachi said. “We don’t know why or how, but he protected her in Istanbul, in his own way. And…” He glanced at his mate, but she nodded at him, so he continued. “And he appeared to her again more recently. In a dream.”
“When?” Damien stepped forward. “At Sarihöfn? Was he able to find you there? Is that why—”
“I don’t know,” Ava answered. “I haven’t remembered the details of my dreams about him until the one last night, though I’m fairly sure I’ve seen him before. He was… cryptic.”
“How surprising,” Rhys muttered.
“I’ve been talking over the vision with Malachi to try to make sense of it, but a lot of it is confusing. I… I can try…” She was clearly uncomfortable with so many eyes on her.
Malachi gave her hand a squeeze, and she looked to him again. He nodded to her, offering encouragement. After she had explained what happened at the sing with the other Irina, he’d been awed. But the vague memory of her voice singing to him crept into his memory. It had been the same night he’d noticed some of his talesm had reappeared under his skin. There was power in her voice. She was only touching the edges of it. He hoped, now that they were together again, that she could reach her full potential. That they both would.
“Tell them. Show them,” he said. “There is no shame in trying.”
“I can try to sing you the vision so you can see what I saw,” she said, almost as if she were running out of breath.
“Like you did at the sing?” Sari said. “That was amazing.”
“What is this?” Lang asked.