The Singer

They all fell silent at his name, and the knot around her heart twisted again.

“It’s okay,” Ava said after the silence had dragged on too long. “Part of me wants to talk about him. Part of me worries about forgetting.”

Mala threw a look over her shoulder and signed something.

“You won’t forget,” Brook translated. “Don’t worry that you’ll forget.”

“Thanks, Mala.”

Renata changed the subject. “I want to take you into the field.”

Mala wheeled around and immediately went to run beside Renata as Brooke and Ava took the lead on the trail. Neither she nor Brooke could see the other women; they could only listen to the one-sided conversation.

“I know that.”

A pause.

“Can you imagine, though? With her range and accuracy, she’d be a huge asset. Plus, she’s a seer. Once she’s had more training, she’ll—”

A much longer pause.

“I haven’t forgotten, but it’s been two hundred years. Sari is going to have to get past her—”

Another pause and a few disapproving clicks of the tongue.

“I know, I know.” There was silence, and Ava chanced a glance over her shoulder, but Mala and Renata were both jogging and not looking at her.

“I still think it’s worth suggesting,” Renata said. “She wouldn’t even have to be close to help. She’d be… advance intelligence. And once she can understand more of the Old Language, she’d be invaluable. We could protect her. Partner her with someone with more field experience. And as she gets stronger—”

Mala made more disapproving clicks and Ava could hear her grunting slightly as she signed.

“Fine. I’ll wait.”

Ava looked over her shoulder again but didn’t see anything. Brooke caught her eye and grinned. Ava seized on Renata’s words. With her range and accuracy, she’d be a huge asset. Could the voices that had driven her near to insanity be the key to avenging Malachi’s death?

It sounded like Sari wouldn’t approve of her joining, for some reason, but then it wasn’t only up to Sari, was it? Ava let the idea churn in her brain while the four women ran back to the compound.

“Wait, wait,” the laughing Italian woman said, throwing a perfectly manicured hand over Astrid’s mouth before she could speak. “You have to let me tell it.”

“No!” Astrid was indignant. “You always make it sound so much worse than what it was.”

Karen and Bruno both burst out laughing, obviously having heard the story that Renata wanted to share. Ava and Damien only exchanged confused looks over the kitchen table where the six friends had gathered to share coffee, wine, and a chocolate cake Karen had baked.

Bruno was right, the woman was a supernatural baker. It was the only explanation for how good that cake was.

“I am the only one who knows the truth!” Renata shouted, her grin huge. “You always try to hide how bad—”

“It wasn’t that bad!”

“Oh…” Renata’s eyes turned to Ava’s. “It was bad. I will never take her into the field again. She was flapping her arms like a bird that had been trapped in the rafters. ‘Renata!’” The woman’s voice took on a high-pitched tone. “‘Dust! Grigori dust all over me! I have to shower.’ Blood. Bones. She can put the most wounded body back together from pieces, but she couldn’t handle the dust.”

Damien even cracked a smile as Karen and Bruno laughed again. Ava was trying to control herself, but Renata’s imitation of Astrid’s voice was too good.

“It was my first time in the field,” Astrid protested.

“And the last time,” Renata said. “How can you be so squeamish?”

“I can handle blood and guts, not evil fallen angel remains.” The healer gave a dramatic shudder. “They’re… gritty. They get everywhere. You can inhale them. Disgusting.”

Even Damien was chuckling at that point. They’d been telling stories for hours. It had started with Damien and Renata catching up and then devolved into battle stories. Renata was more than willing to share her exploits. The others had to pry them out of Damien. But eventually, all of them were adding their tales, except for Ava.

Everyone knew her battle story, and no one wanted to dwell on it.

Ava finished her wine and pushed back from the table. “I should get to sleep.”

Astrid and Damien exchanged a look. Damien reached for the bottle of wine and filled her glass again. “Stay up and visit.”

“I’m tired.” Ava was lying. She just wanted to sleep and hopefully dream about Malachi. Still, she smiled and nodded at Renata. “Someone likes jogging way more than me.”

“I’m trying to toughen you up, California girl.”

“Come,” Astrid said. “Stay up. It’s dark, but not too late. Only nine o’clock. We want to hear your stories, too.” She blinked a little and smiled. “From LA! I bet you’ve met celebrities, haven’t you?”

What was going on? If Astrid actually wanted to know about celebrity gossip, Ava would eat her favorite lens. She narrowed her eyes at Astrid, then she opened the door in her mind. As she’d suspected, from the tone of her inner voice, the other woman was hiding something.

“I’m just tired,” Ava said carefully. “There something going on?”

Damien shrugged. “We all have a rare night free of obligations. Catching up. Getting to know people. It’s better than watching television.”