The Singer - Page 108

CHAPTERTWENTY-FOUR

Ava had spent little time in Oslo, usually only using it as a jumping-off point for treks in rural Norway. The waterfront was something new. The normally bustling sidewalks of the Aker Brygge were silent at dawn. None of the tourist traffic was out, and the few boats that sat in port bobbed quietly in the frosty air. Tall buildings rose on one side while the frigid expanse of the fjord stretched out before them. It was foggy and near freezing, and Ava stood as close to Malachi as she could while they huddled in the alley with Maxim and Renata. Jeremiah and the other Oslo scribes were cautiously strolling through the area, trying to spot any lingering Grigori or humans. They’d found the body of one girl, dead from attack or exposure, they couldn’t tell.

“The police are noticing,” Max said. “The girls who are disappearing are not just prostitutes and drug addicts anymore.”

Lang said, “Grigori attacks prior to this have been unnoticed—mostly because the women survive and don’t remember exactly what happened coupled with the fact the Grigori prey on the most vulnerable on the streets. But this many in the city? I’m surprised it’s not raised a public panic yet.”

“The house is two blocks down,” Renata said. “We haven’t been able to get inside, but we’ve been watching. I would guess there are around sixty soldiers.”

“I’d guess more,” Max said. “And I think some came in on a ferry today. I’m not positive—I was too far away—but they looked right for Grigori and the human women were reacting to them.”

“We never knew about this place,” Lang said. “They’ve kept it very quiet.”

“And you’ve been reactive, not proactive,” Renata said with a shrug, clearly not caring if she pissed off the tall scribe who glared at her. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of. All the scribe houses are.”

“Renata,” Max said with a warning tone. “It’s not important now. What is important is that they’re here now.”

“We’ve been watching,” Renata said.

“And most of the Grigori are in for the night. Saturday night is easy hunting for them. They get their prey early, so the majority will be in the house.”

“Ava,” Sari said in a low voice. “Do you hear anything?”

“I haven’t been trying. Do you want me to?”

Sari nodded.

Ava took a deep breath and let go of Malachi’s hand. He didn’t want to, but she needed to lose the connection before she could open the door.

“Okay,” she said quietly. “All of you hum or something.”

“Hum?” Rhys frowned at her.

“Yeah, hum. Sing a little ditty. That seems to be the best way to keep your inner voices quiet when I scan for static.”

“Clearly,” Lang said, “there is much to learn about how the Irina fight.”

“Not Irina,” Renata said. “Just Ava.”

“And thank you again for pointing out how weird I am, Ren. Much appreciated.”

“You just have better range and accuracy than anyone else,” Sari said. “It’s not a bad thing.”

Unlike Renata with her quicksilver knives, Sari had brought the traditional staff she’d fought with in Sarihöfn. Ava, however, only had her mind and Malachi’s hovering presence. She could feel him at her back. Could hear him. She took a deep breath and tried to push past the clear sound of his voice. Stepping into the street, she opened her senses.

“It’s quiet,” she said. “I don’t… there’s not much. There’s kind of a murmur. I can’t tell if it’s human or Grigori.”

“If they’re sleeping, there won’t be much,” Renata said.

Max added, “And it’s definitely Grigori in the house. We didn’t see any humans come in. The buildings around the house are offices, for the most part. They’d be empty right now.”

If no voices meant sleeping, then they’d picked the right time to come. The only inner voices Ava heard were those of the Irin scribes and singers behind her.

Wait.

She stepped closer. There was something…

A faint echo. Familiar and eerily calm.

“There’s someone…” There was one voice. One that lifted over the others. It was old. Powerful.

“Ava, do you recognize—”

“Brage.”

She breathed out his name on a gust of frosty breath. She was certain of it. Brage was near. And he was waiting.

“Brage? Who?”

She wasn’t sure who spoke. Chattering erupted around her, but Ava closed her eyes, focusing on his voice until the rasp of it cut into her mind and his presence flooded her senses. Old memories from Istanbul rose up, and a wave of black swept over her. Anger. Fear. Disgust. She could feel it all in his voice. His soul was a black pit, but instead of backing away, Ava stepped closer.

“Come…”

She heard his soul whisper to hers.

“Come to me…”

The black pull of his voice called her, and the dark edges of her heart reached out to the voice.

“Yes…”

She didn’t realize she had moved until she felt Malachi’s hand on her arm.

“Where are you going, canim?”

Tags: Elizabeth Hunter Paranormal
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