The Secret
Page 88
“That is one of His names.”
“That’s why Malachi came back. Is that what you’re saying?” She grabbed for his arm, stopping him from walking ahead. “Is that it? I dreamed it—I wanted it so much—that I made it real? Made my vision a reality?”
Jaron turned. “You are of my blood. And of Volund’s.”
“What does that mean?”
“Not even I can predict your power.” He leaned down and whispered, “Be careful what you dream.”
Her body was frozen. She felt her mate at her back as Jaron walked into the fog.
“How will this end?”
It slammed into her. The vision of the two eagles battling. Blood sprayed on her face as one fell, then the other, both pierced in the heart by the other’s talons. They fell, but they did not hit the ground. A giant sword rose into the sky, its black shadow clawing the heavens with the teeth of a great beast. And when it pierced their breasts, the eagles turned into giants, and the darkness swallowed them whole.
AVA was still thinking about the vision the next day while she waited for Malachi to return from settling Kostas’s men. She was making an effort to think of them as Kostas’s men and not Grigori. The instinctive aversion was too strong, and she didn’t want to offend Kyra, who was waiting with her.
The kareshta was nervous. She’d gone to Prague with the others to settle her sisters into Astrid and Karen’s care, had spent some time with Orsala, forming a rudimentary shield over her mind, but she still looked incredibly ill at ease in Vienna. The vulnerability made her otherworldly features somehow more human.
“Kostas and Sirius should be back soon,” Ava said.
She nodded. “I worry about them.”
“Malachi says that as long as they cover up and don’t look too pretty, they should be all right. Their scent is completely gone.”
“Good.” She tapped her fingers and looked over her shoulder to where Rhys and Leo were trying very hard not to look at the stunning woman. Kyra had masses of long hair, a rich chestnut color streaked with darker shades of brown. Her skin was olive—a legacy from her human mother, who had been Greek—and her eyes were thick-lashed and gold. Ava felt small and plain beside her, and she could understand why Leo and Rhys had a hard time keeping their eyes to themselves.
She gave them a furious look and they went back to studying their books. “Sorry about them.”
Kyra shook her head. Forced a smile. “It’s fine. I’m sure I’m strange to their eyes.”
“Oh, no. That’s not it. You’re just really, really gorgeous and—as old as these guys are—they’re still getting used to being around girls.”
Her eyes widened. “But… the Irina.”
“Most that survived the Rending have been out of the public eye for two hundred years or so. If a scribe wasn’t already mated, they weren’t really welcome in the havens. So… most of these guys haven’t seen a nonhuman girl in about two hundred years. Some of the younger scribes who were children during the Rending haven’t ever seen one.”
“Oh.” If anything, that seemed to make her even more nervous. “That might explain the looks.”
“Yeah, they can’t really touch human women, so”—she leaned closer and whispered—“there are a lot of frustrated scribes out there.”
Kyra blushed.
“I try to find the humor in the situation, even though it’s not really funny.”
“No.” Kyra choked out the word. “It’s not.”
“You too, huh?”
Kyra looked around the library. “Is this appropriate to speak of?”
“Girl talk. Do I need to get some wine?”
Kyra shook her head. “That would not be advisable. I have no experience…” She cleared her throat. “Most kareshta are more attuned to the human world. Many have had relationships with human men, because of course, they thought—or continue to think—they are human.”
“Like me.”
“Yes.” Kyra nodded, more comfortable now. “I do not have as much experience being out of… our version of havens. Because of my brother. And of course, most of his men are also Barak’s children, so—”
“Oh my gosh, so you’ve been surrounded by like a thousand superprotective big brothers your whole life?”
She frowned. “A thousand would be hyperbole. But many half brothers, yes. Though I am older than most of them.”
“That would pretty much kill any hope of a social life, huh?”
Kyra smiled and laughed a little. Rhys and Leo’s eyes flew back to her.
Ava pointed at them. “Books. Now. Or I’ll take her away.”
They both averted their eyes, but she could see them sneaking glances.
“No,” Kyra said. “No social life at all. Of course, hearing voices also dampens any urge I’ve ever had to be with a human.”
“Yeah, I remember that part.”
Kyra still carried the visible anxiety that Ava remembered so well. Her fingers tapped the arm of the chair and she was fidgeting madly, her foot tapping, her body shifting. Ava realized that though she was learning to shield her mind, the kareshta still felt the overwhelming excess of energy she channeled from the human souls in Vienna. Irina did too, but with more developed magic and regular contact with males of their own race, it was manageable.
For Kyra, who’d lived her life in purposefully isolated locations, the crowd of a city must have been a nerve-racking experience. And her brother, whose affectionate contact would help her manage her energy, had been gone for hours.
“That’s why Malachi came back. Is that what you’re saying?” She grabbed for his arm, stopping him from walking ahead. “Is that it? I dreamed it—I wanted it so much—that I made it real? Made my vision a reality?”
Jaron turned. “You are of my blood. And of Volund’s.”
“What does that mean?”
“Not even I can predict your power.” He leaned down and whispered, “Be careful what you dream.”
Her body was frozen. She felt her mate at her back as Jaron walked into the fog.
“How will this end?”
It slammed into her. The vision of the two eagles battling. Blood sprayed on her face as one fell, then the other, both pierced in the heart by the other’s talons. They fell, but they did not hit the ground. A giant sword rose into the sky, its black shadow clawing the heavens with the teeth of a great beast. And when it pierced their breasts, the eagles turned into giants, and the darkness swallowed them whole.
AVA was still thinking about the vision the next day while she waited for Malachi to return from settling Kostas’s men. She was making an effort to think of them as Kostas’s men and not Grigori. The instinctive aversion was too strong, and she didn’t want to offend Kyra, who was waiting with her.
The kareshta was nervous. She’d gone to Prague with the others to settle her sisters into Astrid and Karen’s care, had spent some time with Orsala, forming a rudimentary shield over her mind, but she still looked incredibly ill at ease in Vienna. The vulnerability made her otherworldly features somehow more human.
“Kostas and Sirius should be back soon,” Ava said.
She nodded. “I worry about them.”
“Malachi says that as long as they cover up and don’t look too pretty, they should be all right. Their scent is completely gone.”
“Good.” She tapped her fingers and looked over her shoulder to where Rhys and Leo were trying very hard not to look at the stunning woman. Kyra had masses of long hair, a rich chestnut color streaked with darker shades of brown. Her skin was olive—a legacy from her human mother, who had been Greek—and her eyes were thick-lashed and gold. Ava felt small and plain beside her, and she could understand why Leo and Rhys had a hard time keeping their eyes to themselves.
She gave them a furious look and they went back to studying their books. “Sorry about them.”
Kyra shook her head. Forced a smile. “It’s fine. I’m sure I’m strange to their eyes.”
“Oh, no. That’s not it. You’re just really, really gorgeous and—as old as these guys are—they’re still getting used to being around girls.”
Her eyes widened. “But… the Irina.”
“Most that survived the Rending have been out of the public eye for two hundred years or so. If a scribe wasn’t already mated, they weren’t really welcome in the havens. So… most of these guys haven’t seen a nonhuman girl in about two hundred years. Some of the younger scribes who were children during the Rending haven’t ever seen one.”
“Oh.” If anything, that seemed to make her even more nervous. “That might explain the looks.”
“Yeah, they can’t really touch human women, so”—she leaned closer and whispered—“there are a lot of frustrated scribes out there.”
Kyra blushed.
“I try to find the humor in the situation, even though it’s not really funny.”
“No.” Kyra choked out the word. “It’s not.”
“You too, huh?”
Kyra looked around the library. “Is this appropriate to speak of?”
“Girl talk. Do I need to get some wine?”
Kyra shook her head. “That would not be advisable. I have no experience…” She cleared her throat. “Most kareshta are more attuned to the human world. Many have had relationships with human men, because of course, they thought—or continue to think—they are human.”
“Like me.”
“Yes.” Kyra nodded, more comfortable now. “I do not have as much experience being out of… our version of havens. Because of my brother. And of course, most of his men are also Barak’s children, so—”
“Oh my gosh, so you’ve been surrounded by like a thousand superprotective big brothers your whole life?”
She frowned. “A thousand would be hyperbole. But many half brothers, yes. Though I am older than most of them.”
“That would pretty much kill any hope of a social life, huh?”
Kyra smiled and laughed a little. Rhys and Leo’s eyes flew back to her.
Ava pointed at them. “Books. Now. Or I’ll take her away.”
They both averted their eyes, but she could see them sneaking glances.
“No,” Kyra said. “No social life at all. Of course, hearing voices also dampens any urge I’ve ever had to be with a human.”
“Yeah, I remember that part.”
Kyra still carried the visible anxiety that Ava remembered so well. Her fingers tapped the arm of the chair and she was fidgeting madly, her foot tapping, her body shifting. Ava realized that though she was learning to shield her mind, the kareshta still felt the overwhelming excess of energy she channeled from the human souls in Vienna. Irina did too, but with more developed magic and regular contact with males of their own race, it was manageable.
For Kyra, who’d lived her life in purposefully isolated locations, the crowd of a city must have been a nerve-racking experience. And her brother, whose affectionate contact would help her manage her energy, had been gone for hours.
