The Secret
Page 104
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“Narrow streets and tall buildings,” Malachi said as they jogged, “are not your friends. The plaza will be better. At least we’ll be able to see them coming.”
As they ran, Ava saw nothing but a few flickering shadows that quickly disappeared. More and more scribes joined them until their number included at least fifty. Also among their number was a collection of singers, most in groups of two or three. They whispered spells to surround the company, short staffs in hand, while the scribes surrounded them instinctively.
“Where is everyone?” she asked. “There are hundreds of Irin scribes in Vienna you told me. Where are they?”
“Politicians and financiers,” Malachi said. “Most of these scribes have forgotten how to fight. Or they simply don’t have the stomach for it.”
When they reached the plaza, Malachi pulled her over to an isolated corner in the window of a pharmacy.
“When Leo arrives,” he said. “I’m sending you and Kyra with him.”
“What?” Her jaw dropped. “No, I’m not leaving you.”
“You are. You and Kyra are too important. And you’re not strong enough for this fight. I can’t protect you and face this at the same time.”
“Malachi, no.”
“Listen—”
“Vasu gave the words to me. Spells I can use against the angels and the Grigori. I can protect—”
“Ava, we’re not only facing soldiers.” Malachi’s voice dropped.
He turned them to face across the plaza and toward the Graben where the violent crashes and skittering footsteps had grown progressively louder. It was only then she saw them.
“I know you can kill Grigori,” he said. “But can you kill all of them?”
Ava turned and saw Grimold’s secret.
Slipping between shadows and jumping from balcony to balcony, the sons of the Fallen trickled into the square from streets and alleys and even from above. No longer distracted by the presence of humans, they focused on the scribes. There were hundreds of them, blending into the shadows and curling from the darkest corners of the street. They didn’t come as an army but as thieves, their shadowed eyes watching the gathering of scribes in utter silence. They crouched in small groups or slipped from side streets as the Irin gathered at the foot of St. Stephen’s Cathedral.
Especially the children.
Round-cheeked and slim. Fair-haired and dark. They crept like cats along the corners, trailing after their older kin with vicious smiles and hungry eyes.
“No.”
His hands tightened on her shoulders. “Grimold is a monster. But so are these children.”
“They’re babies, Malachi.”
“Babies”—his voice broke—“who would feed on you until you died. Babies you would have to kill to survive. Please, Ava. I do not want you here.”
She could hear the agony in his voice, and she knew her mate had no love for this battle. Not when defeating their enemy meant the deaths of children. The Fallen’s secret weapon was effective. She looked over the clutch of singers with Sari in the middle, holding Kyra close to her as the women around them chanted louder and louder. The barren, agonized expression on the singer’s face and the terror in Kyra’s eyes made her decision.
“I’ll go with Leo,” she whispered, then she threw her arms around his neck. “Please come back to me.”
“I will.”
Ava blinked away tears. “I won’t be far. I want to be close enough that I can use my magic if I need to.”
“I can live with that. Leo will find some place secure and out of the way of the worst of it.”
A child watched them embrace, head cocked as a dog watches something curious. His feral gaze fixed on Ava, and she knew that Malachi was telling the truth. Though he wore the face of a child, Grimold’s son was a monster.
“Where are Kostas’s men?”
“They are hunting Grimold with Barak. If Kostas and his men can kill Grimold, his children—”
“Some of the youngest could be saved.”
Malachi nodded. “That’s what he’s hoping.”
Ava watched the street as more and more Grigori gathered. “Why aren’t they attacking?”
“The Irina are holding them off. But we can’t attack them in the middle of their protection, and the minute we leave the circle of their magic…”
She pulled away and pressed her forehead into his chest, kissing over his heart where her vow to him lay.
“Are you strong?” she whispered.
“Stronger than I have ever been, canm.” He cupped her face, bringing her lips to his in a kiss that broke her heart. “I have your power in me,” he whispered. “Your magic along with my own. Nothing will defeat me.”
Ava saw Leo from the corner of her eye, so she squeezed them shut and gave Malachi one more kiss.
“I’m counting on it,” she whispered. “Leo’s here.”
Malachi left her and walked to Leo, speaking low into the tall man’s ear. Leo looked for Kyra, still frozen in the center of the singers’ circle, obviously terrified. He nodded solemnly, then narrowed his eyes. She saw him shake his head once, but Malachi kept talking, putting his hand on Leo’s shoulder, obviously trying to convince him. Ava was guessing Leo didn’t want to miss the action any more than she did.
Though the singers’ magic held, Ava saw the numbers of Grigori growing. If she and Kyra were going to hide, they needed to leave when their enemies were distracted. She saw Malachi walking over as Leo went to speak with Sari.
As they ran, Ava saw nothing but a few flickering shadows that quickly disappeared. More and more scribes joined them until their number included at least fifty. Also among their number was a collection of singers, most in groups of two or three. They whispered spells to surround the company, short staffs in hand, while the scribes surrounded them instinctively.
“Where is everyone?” she asked. “There are hundreds of Irin scribes in Vienna you told me. Where are they?”
“Politicians and financiers,” Malachi said. “Most of these scribes have forgotten how to fight. Or they simply don’t have the stomach for it.”
When they reached the plaza, Malachi pulled her over to an isolated corner in the window of a pharmacy.
“When Leo arrives,” he said. “I’m sending you and Kyra with him.”
“What?” Her jaw dropped. “No, I’m not leaving you.”
“You are. You and Kyra are too important. And you’re not strong enough for this fight. I can’t protect you and face this at the same time.”
“Malachi, no.”
“Listen—”
“Vasu gave the words to me. Spells I can use against the angels and the Grigori. I can protect—”
“Ava, we’re not only facing soldiers.” Malachi’s voice dropped.
He turned them to face across the plaza and toward the Graben where the violent crashes and skittering footsteps had grown progressively louder. It was only then she saw them.
“I know you can kill Grigori,” he said. “But can you kill all of them?”
Ava turned and saw Grimold’s secret.
Slipping between shadows and jumping from balcony to balcony, the sons of the Fallen trickled into the square from streets and alleys and even from above. No longer distracted by the presence of humans, they focused on the scribes. There were hundreds of them, blending into the shadows and curling from the darkest corners of the street. They didn’t come as an army but as thieves, their shadowed eyes watching the gathering of scribes in utter silence. They crouched in small groups or slipped from side streets as the Irin gathered at the foot of St. Stephen’s Cathedral.
Especially the children.
Round-cheeked and slim. Fair-haired and dark. They crept like cats along the corners, trailing after their older kin with vicious smiles and hungry eyes.
“No.”
His hands tightened on her shoulders. “Grimold is a monster. But so are these children.”
“They’re babies, Malachi.”
“Babies”—his voice broke—“who would feed on you until you died. Babies you would have to kill to survive. Please, Ava. I do not want you here.”
She could hear the agony in his voice, and she knew her mate had no love for this battle. Not when defeating their enemy meant the deaths of children. The Fallen’s secret weapon was effective. She looked over the clutch of singers with Sari in the middle, holding Kyra close to her as the women around them chanted louder and louder. The barren, agonized expression on the singer’s face and the terror in Kyra’s eyes made her decision.
“I’ll go with Leo,” she whispered, then she threw her arms around his neck. “Please come back to me.”
“I will.”
Ava blinked away tears. “I won’t be far. I want to be close enough that I can use my magic if I need to.”
“I can live with that. Leo will find some place secure and out of the way of the worst of it.”
A child watched them embrace, head cocked as a dog watches something curious. His feral gaze fixed on Ava, and she knew that Malachi was telling the truth. Though he wore the face of a child, Grimold’s son was a monster.
“Where are Kostas’s men?”
“They are hunting Grimold with Barak. If Kostas and his men can kill Grimold, his children—”
“Some of the youngest could be saved.”
Malachi nodded. “That’s what he’s hoping.”
Ava watched the street as more and more Grigori gathered. “Why aren’t they attacking?”
“The Irina are holding them off. But we can’t attack them in the middle of their protection, and the minute we leave the circle of their magic…”
She pulled away and pressed her forehead into his chest, kissing over his heart where her vow to him lay.
“Are you strong?” she whispered.
“Stronger than I have ever been, canm.” He cupped her face, bringing her lips to his in a kiss that broke her heart. “I have your power in me,” he whispered. “Your magic along with my own. Nothing will defeat me.”
Ava saw Leo from the corner of her eye, so she squeezed them shut and gave Malachi one more kiss.
“I’m counting on it,” she whispered. “Leo’s here.”
Malachi left her and walked to Leo, speaking low into the tall man’s ear. Leo looked for Kyra, still frozen in the center of the singers’ circle, obviously terrified. He nodded solemnly, then narrowed his eyes. She saw him shake his head once, but Malachi kept talking, putting his hand on Leo’s shoulder, obviously trying to convince him. Ava was guessing Leo didn’t want to miss the action any more than she did.
Though the singers’ magic held, Ava saw the numbers of Grigori growing. If she and Kyra were going to hide, they needed to leave when their enemies were distracted. She saw Malachi walking over as Leo went to speak with Sari.