The Scribe
Page 84
“Ava!”
Malachi saw the Grigori lift her, tossing her over his shoulder like baggage. He started trudging toward the exit, moving as quickly as he could in the heavy water. He was fighting two soldiers, feeling weaker by the moment, but he saw Max spot Ava as Damien sliced his way through the Grigori who swarmed them.
“Max, get Ava!” he yelled as loud as he could. The cistern was filled with the sounds of splashes and grunts, blades ringing against the stone pillars and men crying out in pain. Through it all, Malachi didn’t think. He kept going, his single focus to move toward the soldier with his mate.
Get Ava. Escape the cistern.
Something tugged at his leg, but he kicked it away, losing one of the boots and a shoe at the same time. Sharp stones dug into his foot when he set it down again, and he could feel them pierce his flesh.
Damien moved toward him, throwing off the soldier who had attached himself to Malachi’s back and was trying to grab his weapons. Most of the Grigori had lost their knives in the fight, the blades falling into the water as they struggled.
Malachi held on.
“Max, she’s there!”
“I see her!”
He saw his brother head toward Ava, slicing through two Grigori, dusting one and throwing another into the darkness with a roar.
Almost there.
The lights flickered. Went out.
Ava screamed.
On again.
She’d been stabbed in the fighting. Blood poured from her belly, and he saw her face pale.
“Ava!”
Their eyes met in the flickering light as Malachi raced toward her as fast as he could, his heart beating out of his chest and blood dripping into his eyes.
“Hold on!”
“Malachi, no!”
Just then, a large soldier tackled him from behind a pillar. He knocked Malachi down. The water enveloped him as a painful scream filled the air.
The magic raged through her, closing the wound on her belly, and Ava’s soul rose in fear and fury. Through the pain, her voice lifted, echoing against the ancient stones.
The songs rang in her mind. The magic called her.
Speak, the seductive voice whispered.
More. Higher. Louder.
Ava’s voice rose in pain and anger. She screamed out against the voices in her mind.
The soldier holding her faltered. One hand came up to his ear as he stumbled. She saw others clutching their heads. Blood poured between their fingers.
The lights went on. Then off. On again.
Finally, the one holding Ava dropped her, and she splashed in the water as the soldier ran. Everything was dark and silent for a moment before she surfaced, spitting out the foul water that had filled her mouth. She blinked her eyes, looking for danger. The Grigori who had captured her was pushing for the exit even as Max cut him down. She couldn’t see Malachi, but she saw Max. Blood ran from his eyes and ears, but he kept coming toward her.
More Grigori ran past, two scrambling up the stairs as she brushed the damp hair from her face and blinked the mud from her eyes. Max finally reached her.
“You’re fine, Ava. You’re all right.”
“Where’s Malachi?”
A voice from the darkness. “I’m here, Ava.” He emerged from the shadows, wading through the waist-deep water with a crooked smile. “What was that, love?”
Ava burst out with a sobbing laugh. “I have no idea.”
She saw Damien and Malachi on the other side of the cistern. Damien smiled, even as he killed another Grigori with a dagger to his spine. The dust hung like a fog over their heads, wafting toward the exit where the rest of the soldiers had fled. Malachi stood, clutching his side, leaning against a pillar and panting. Blood ran from his eyes and nose, but he smiled anyway, staring across the water.
Come to me.
For a split second, she could hear the thought in his mind.
Ava stood and started running toward him as fast as she could, barely noticing the shadow moving in the corner of her eye.
The shadow rose from the water, blue eyes gleaming in the darkness and blade glinting in the light.
Ava’s heart stopped.
Silence.
Malachi stilled as the blade pierced his spine, his eyes locking with hers.
Grey eyes wide in the darkness.
She fell. Her knees gave out.
Cold water rose to her chest.
Her mate’s mouth dropped open with a silent cry as Brage’s blade plunged in, then his face shone gold.
“NO!” Max’s voice behind her.
Gold. He was gold. Shimmering in the darkness. Beautiful. Radiant.
Malachi’s visage flickered as the dust began to rise.
Ava’s heart beat once, then she heard another long scream.
Silence as her eardrums burst. Her vision went black as the gold dust rose like a ghost in the darkness.
Then the water enveloped her and everything was gone.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Blackness. Silence.
She heard groans and knew they came from her throat.
Her chest ached. Her ears hurt. Everything hurt.
Someone was carrying her, but it wasn’t him.
“What happened? What happened?”
“Gone,” she whispered when she heard his brother’s voice.
She saw it again. Her mate’s radiant face before it dissolved into gold dust and drifted to the sky. The hollow feeling in her chest rose and enveloped her.
She closed her eyes.
Ava ran through a dark forest, thick with fog. He was there. He had to be.
Where was he?
She tripped over roots in the path and the ground rushed toward her. Black leaves slapped her face.
Malachi saw the Grigori lift her, tossing her over his shoulder like baggage. He started trudging toward the exit, moving as quickly as he could in the heavy water. He was fighting two soldiers, feeling weaker by the moment, but he saw Max spot Ava as Damien sliced his way through the Grigori who swarmed them.
“Max, get Ava!” he yelled as loud as he could. The cistern was filled with the sounds of splashes and grunts, blades ringing against the stone pillars and men crying out in pain. Through it all, Malachi didn’t think. He kept going, his single focus to move toward the soldier with his mate.
Get Ava. Escape the cistern.
Something tugged at his leg, but he kicked it away, losing one of the boots and a shoe at the same time. Sharp stones dug into his foot when he set it down again, and he could feel them pierce his flesh.
Damien moved toward him, throwing off the soldier who had attached himself to Malachi’s back and was trying to grab his weapons. Most of the Grigori had lost their knives in the fight, the blades falling into the water as they struggled.
Malachi held on.
“Max, she’s there!”
“I see her!”
He saw his brother head toward Ava, slicing through two Grigori, dusting one and throwing another into the darkness with a roar.
Almost there.
The lights flickered. Went out.
Ava screamed.
On again.
She’d been stabbed in the fighting. Blood poured from her belly, and he saw her face pale.
“Ava!”
Their eyes met in the flickering light as Malachi raced toward her as fast as he could, his heart beating out of his chest and blood dripping into his eyes.
“Hold on!”
“Malachi, no!”
Just then, a large soldier tackled him from behind a pillar. He knocked Malachi down. The water enveloped him as a painful scream filled the air.
The magic raged through her, closing the wound on her belly, and Ava’s soul rose in fear and fury. Through the pain, her voice lifted, echoing against the ancient stones.
The songs rang in her mind. The magic called her.
Speak, the seductive voice whispered.
More. Higher. Louder.
Ava’s voice rose in pain and anger. She screamed out against the voices in her mind.
The soldier holding her faltered. One hand came up to his ear as he stumbled. She saw others clutching their heads. Blood poured between their fingers.
The lights went on. Then off. On again.
Finally, the one holding Ava dropped her, and she splashed in the water as the soldier ran. Everything was dark and silent for a moment before she surfaced, spitting out the foul water that had filled her mouth. She blinked her eyes, looking for danger. The Grigori who had captured her was pushing for the exit even as Max cut him down. She couldn’t see Malachi, but she saw Max. Blood ran from his eyes and ears, but he kept coming toward her.
More Grigori ran past, two scrambling up the stairs as she brushed the damp hair from her face and blinked the mud from her eyes. Max finally reached her.
“You’re fine, Ava. You’re all right.”
“Where’s Malachi?”
A voice from the darkness. “I’m here, Ava.” He emerged from the shadows, wading through the waist-deep water with a crooked smile. “What was that, love?”
Ava burst out with a sobbing laugh. “I have no idea.”
She saw Damien and Malachi on the other side of the cistern. Damien smiled, even as he killed another Grigori with a dagger to his spine. The dust hung like a fog over their heads, wafting toward the exit where the rest of the soldiers had fled. Malachi stood, clutching his side, leaning against a pillar and panting. Blood ran from his eyes and nose, but he smiled anyway, staring across the water.
Come to me.
For a split second, she could hear the thought in his mind.
Ava stood and started running toward him as fast as she could, barely noticing the shadow moving in the corner of her eye.
The shadow rose from the water, blue eyes gleaming in the darkness and blade glinting in the light.
Ava’s heart stopped.
Silence.
Malachi stilled as the blade pierced his spine, his eyes locking with hers.
Grey eyes wide in the darkness.
She fell. Her knees gave out.
Cold water rose to her chest.
Her mate’s mouth dropped open with a silent cry as Brage’s blade plunged in, then his face shone gold.
“NO!” Max’s voice behind her.
Gold. He was gold. Shimmering in the darkness. Beautiful. Radiant.
Malachi’s visage flickered as the dust began to rise.
Ava’s heart beat once, then she heard another long scream.
Silence as her eardrums burst. Her vision went black as the gold dust rose like a ghost in the darkness.
Then the water enveloped her and everything was gone.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Blackness. Silence.
She heard groans and knew they came from her throat.
Her chest ached. Her ears hurt. Everything hurt.
Someone was carrying her, but it wasn’t him.
“What happened? What happened?”
“Gone,” she whispered when she heard his brother’s voice.
She saw it again. Her mate’s radiant face before it dissolved into gold dust and drifted to the sky. The hollow feeling in her chest rose and enveloped her.
She closed her eyes.
Ava ran through a dark forest, thick with fog. He was there. He had to be.
Where was he?
She tripped over roots in the path and the ground rushed toward her. Black leaves slapped her face.
