The Secret
Page 69
“How about this?” He rolled to his side and propped himself up on his elbow so he could see her face. “Talk to Orsala. Tell her. She will know if it is something that needs to be shared with the others.”
“That’s a good idea.”
“I’m brimming with them.”
She smiled and pushed his shoulder. “That was your idea yesterday, wasn’t it? For Sari to create a scene.”
“I think Sari likes creating scenes. And all the quiet machinations there annoyed me.” He rolled to his back and pulled her onto his chest. “Where is the passion in our race?” he asked. “Where is the purpose? We have lost the fire of our mission. Become consumed with ancient lines and intricate interpretations. That is not what we were meant for.”
“I thought the scribes’ purpose was to preserve knowledge.”
“It is. But I felt no love for it in that room. It was all routine and ceremony. No heart. No heat. And we are supposed to use that knowledge to fight the Fallen. To protect humanity. To help them. We cannot protect them if we can’t see past our own walls.”
“And the singers—”
“The moment the singers withdrew their magic from the human race, we put up walls. We let the fear of loss consume us. And in letting that fear rule us, we abandoned our purpose. We must change.”
“Look at you.” She smiled down at him. “A visionary.”
“I came back for a reason, Ava. The two of us… we are meant for a purpose.”
“The kareshta?”
“Part of breaking down walls is finding these women you’ve seen in Jaron’s vision. We find them, we kill the Fallen who fathered them, and they will be free.”
An odd expression crossed her face.
“What?” he asked.
“I think I’d better cancel that beach shoot in Spain. I don’t think taking pictures of girls in bikinis is quite as important as saving the world.”
He threw his head back and laughed.
“And we need to complete the mating ritual. I’ll talk to Orsala about that too.”
Malachi stopped laughing. “No.”
SHE was angry with him, but he could live with that. What he couldn’t live with was Ava with even a fraction less power. Eventually, yes. When the current battle was past. When they’d gone back to Istanbul and were able to rest. Then she could complete her half of the ritual.
“I cannot believe you’re being so stubborn about this.” She railed at him as they entered Damien and Sari’s home. “Why do you even get a vote? This is my magic.”
“Well, since I’m the one who has to tattoo the mark for it to be permanent,” he said flippantly, “then I suppose you have no choice.”
“I can always start singing when you’re asleep. I’d be halfway through by the time you woke up, and you know you’d go along with it.”
He stopped so abruptly she ran into his back. Malachi spun and gripped her shoulders.
“Don’t try to manipulate me. If you did that—if you denied me even a moment of hearing your mating song—I don’t know if I could forgive you, Ava.”
She flushed. “Malachi—”
“Don’t make threats about something that important. I would never do that to you.”
He could see angry tears in the corner of her eyes, but she blinked them back. “But you’d deny me taking that step? Deny my own promise to you?”
“You know why.”
“Because it’s not safe? News flash: We’re in a millennia-long war that shows no signs of dying down. There will never be a time when it’s totally safe.”
“She’s right, you know,” Rhys said from the doorway of the library.
Malachi said, “Shut up, Rhys.”
“You’re the ones making a racket in the hallway when I’m just trying to work.” He shot a charming smile at Malachi’s mate. “Hello, Ava, you smell amazing. The ritual baths suit you.”
She smiled back. “Thank you.”
He put a hand over his heart. “I would never deny your mark. Malachi is an idiot.”
Malachi leaned against the wall. “I have now detailed fifty-seven specific and effective ways of killing you, Rhys. Would you like me to start listing them?”
“No need. I’m fairly sure your mate is thinking up a comparable list for you right now.”
Orsala shouted from inside the library. “You’re like children! Bicker bicker bicker.”
Ava said, “I keep telling them—”
“You’re as bad as the rest of them, Ava.”
Malachi, Rhys, and Ava wandered into the library where Orsala was reading a scroll.
“Don’t threaten your mate,” she chided without looking up. “You would be furious if he did that to you. Rhys, stop antagonizing your brother. Malachi, stop being a stubborn know-it-all. I may have liked you better when you didn’t remember anything.”
Rhys knocked Malachi’s skull with a fist. “There’s still plenty of patchy spaces up here, Orsala.”
Malachi punched him in the shoulder. Hard.
Ava wandered over to the old singer. “I’m sorry. He’s driving me a little crazy this morning.”
“That’s their job, dear. Sari’s grandfather was a menace.” She looked up with a smile. “And yet we love them. What are you doing this morning?”
“That’s a good idea.”
“I’m brimming with them.”
She smiled and pushed his shoulder. “That was your idea yesterday, wasn’t it? For Sari to create a scene.”
“I think Sari likes creating scenes. And all the quiet machinations there annoyed me.” He rolled to his back and pulled her onto his chest. “Where is the passion in our race?” he asked. “Where is the purpose? We have lost the fire of our mission. Become consumed with ancient lines and intricate interpretations. That is not what we were meant for.”
“I thought the scribes’ purpose was to preserve knowledge.”
“It is. But I felt no love for it in that room. It was all routine and ceremony. No heart. No heat. And we are supposed to use that knowledge to fight the Fallen. To protect humanity. To help them. We cannot protect them if we can’t see past our own walls.”
“And the singers—”
“The moment the singers withdrew their magic from the human race, we put up walls. We let the fear of loss consume us. And in letting that fear rule us, we abandoned our purpose. We must change.”
“Look at you.” She smiled down at him. “A visionary.”
“I came back for a reason, Ava. The two of us… we are meant for a purpose.”
“The kareshta?”
“Part of breaking down walls is finding these women you’ve seen in Jaron’s vision. We find them, we kill the Fallen who fathered them, and they will be free.”
An odd expression crossed her face.
“What?” he asked.
“I think I’d better cancel that beach shoot in Spain. I don’t think taking pictures of girls in bikinis is quite as important as saving the world.”
He threw his head back and laughed.
“And we need to complete the mating ritual. I’ll talk to Orsala about that too.”
Malachi stopped laughing. “No.”
SHE was angry with him, but he could live with that. What he couldn’t live with was Ava with even a fraction less power. Eventually, yes. When the current battle was past. When they’d gone back to Istanbul and were able to rest. Then she could complete her half of the ritual.
“I cannot believe you’re being so stubborn about this.” She railed at him as they entered Damien and Sari’s home. “Why do you even get a vote? This is my magic.”
“Well, since I’m the one who has to tattoo the mark for it to be permanent,” he said flippantly, “then I suppose you have no choice.”
“I can always start singing when you’re asleep. I’d be halfway through by the time you woke up, and you know you’d go along with it.”
He stopped so abruptly she ran into his back. Malachi spun and gripped her shoulders.
“Don’t try to manipulate me. If you did that—if you denied me even a moment of hearing your mating song—I don’t know if I could forgive you, Ava.”
She flushed. “Malachi—”
“Don’t make threats about something that important. I would never do that to you.”
He could see angry tears in the corner of her eyes, but she blinked them back. “But you’d deny me taking that step? Deny my own promise to you?”
“You know why.”
“Because it’s not safe? News flash: We’re in a millennia-long war that shows no signs of dying down. There will never be a time when it’s totally safe.”
“She’s right, you know,” Rhys said from the doorway of the library.
Malachi said, “Shut up, Rhys.”
“You’re the ones making a racket in the hallway when I’m just trying to work.” He shot a charming smile at Malachi’s mate. “Hello, Ava, you smell amazing. The ritual baths suit you.”
She smiled back. “Thank you.”
He put a hand over his heart. “I would never deny your mark. Malachi is an idiot.”
Malachi leaned against the wall. “I have now detailed fifty-seven specific and effective ways of killing you, Rhys. Would you like me to start listing them?”
“No need. I’m fairly sure your mate is thinking up a comparable list for you right now.”
Orsala shouted from inside the library. “You’re like children! Bicker bicker bicker.”
Ava said, “I keep telling them—”
“You’re as bad as the rest of them, Ava.”
Malachi, Rhys, and Ava wandered into the library where Orsala was reading a scroll.
“Don’t threaten your mate,” she chided without looking up. “You would be furious if he did that to you. Rhys, stop antagonizing your brother. Malachi, stop being a stubborn know-it-all. I may have liked you better when you didn’t remember anything.”
Rhys knocked Malachi’s skull with a fist. “There’s still plenty of patchy spaces up here, Orsala.”
Malachi punched him in the shoulder. Hard.
Ava wandered over to the old singer. “I’m sorry. He’s driving me a little crazy this morning.”
“That’s their job, dear. Sari’s grandfather was a menace.” She looked up with a smile. “And yet we love them. What are you doing this morning?”
