The Singer

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, canım?”

Malachi was behind her, holding on to her arm while the others argued in the background. His softly spoken endearment snapped her back to her senses.

Canım.

“I loved it when you called me that.”

He bent down, and the arm that held her wrapped around her waist as he bent down and whispered in her ear.

“Then I will call you that every day, canım. But do not leave this place without me.”

“Do you know?” she asked, turning in his arms. “Do you know who Brage is? What he did?”

“He is the one who killed me, yes?”

She nodded.

“Then I have a debt to repay,” he said. “Don’t I?”

He glanced over Ava’s shoulder at the group of arguing Irin who were all debating how to attack the building.

“He’s waiting for me,” Ava whispered. “For us.”

“What does he want?”

“For me to go with him.”

Malachi’s eyes narrowed. “Do you want to?”

She blinked, shocked that he had picked up on the dark compulsion. “A part of me wants to. I don’t understand why.”

His eyes narrowed, then he bent to brush his lips across hers before he said, “He cannot have you. You’re mine.”

Ava looked over her shoulder. Sari and Lang were arguing while Rhys tried to referee. Damien was rubbing his temple, clearly aggravated. Maxim and Renata, Leo and the others waited with impatient expressions.

“They’re sleeping right now,” Sari hissed. “It doesn’t matter how many there are. We go in—quietly—and we will wipe out the house within minutes.”

“You’re right,” Lang said, “so there is no need for you, Ava, or Renata to come into the fight.”

“You are really arguing this with her?” Damien asked.

“I know she’s capable. But there are few Irina left. There are thousands of Irin. It makes no sense to risk the few when they are so—”

“If you say precious or dear or rare or anything of the sort,” Rhys said, “you know she will rip out your throat.”

“Then rip it out,” Lang said. “This is battle. Not politics.”

Renata broke in. “This is useless! We need to go. Now! If Ava can hear Brage, then he is awake. If he is awake, he will wake the others and our advantage will be gone.”

Ava spoke under her breath. “But he’s not waking them. He’s waiting.”

“For you?” Malachi asked.

“Yes.”

Malachi looked over her head, then down the dark alley where they were hiding. Fog hung low to the ground, and no stars shone overhead. He looked back toward Damien, then at her. Ava felt his grip on her hand tighten a moment before he tugged them away and into the night.

“Do you have your staff?” he asked, once they had slipped away.

“No. Do you have a knife I could borrow?”

He didn’t answer, just slapped a heavy hunting knife into her hand as they continued jogging. She didn’t hear anyone coming after them but knew the others would be loath to draw attention to themselves by shouting after them.

“Can you track him?”

Ava forced him to stop, then closed her eyes and searched for it. It was still there. Distant. Fainter than it had been. Brage’s voice was moving.