The Singer
Page 60

“I’ll be fine. You and Mala hang out here until I get back. Then we’ll return to Sarihöfn in the morning.”
“You have my number if you need help?”
Renata gave her an indulgent smile. “Trust me, I’m looking forward to this. Humans have their fun…” She waved at a car full of skiers as they walked back to Renata’s flat. “…and we have ours. Mala’s just jealous right now because she doesn’t ski.”
Mala gave Renata a sign that needed no interpretation.
“What do you do when you’re not here?” he asked.
She stared into the dark branches overhead. Her head still ached, but she couldn’t remember why.
“I don’t know.”
He took his arms from around her waist and put both palms at her temples. She closed her eyes and felt the soft whisper of his power as he traced spells on her skin. Slowly, the pain began to recede.
“Whatever you are doing, it hurts you.” There was disapproval in his tone.
“But then I come here, and you make me feel better. I’m fine now.”
She was. The pain was gone, and in its place was a reassuring warmth. The sounds of the forest began to creep in. Low rustles and bird calls. Wind in the trees. They were lying on a bed again, but this time it wasn’t in the meadow. It had been drawn farther into the forest. She could hear water flowing in the distance.
He tucked her head on his shoulder and lay back, looking up into the trees as they rested. He lifted one arm, and she could see the marks there, silver and gleaming in the moonlight.
“You made more.”
“What?”
“When you sang to me. They grew. I noticed it later.”
She lifted her head and frowned. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”
“Good, I think.”
“Oh.” She lay back down again. If it was good, then she’d sing some more. “What do you want me to sing for you?”
“What do you remember?”
She closed her eyes and let her mind loose. The pictures fell into her memory, like photographs scattered across a table. She focused on one and smiled.
“We were near the ocean once. There were lanterns, and they floated into the sky.”
She sang softly, and as the old words left her mouth, she could see them take flight, winging their way to his mind. She reached down and felt for his hand. She knit their fingers together, and she could feel the warmth and magic flow between them.
“Ava, look.”
Her eyes opened and she looked down to where their hands joined. She saw it. The spells on his arm creeped up and over, curling into themselves as if drawn by an invisible hand. She watched them, still singing, and when she finally fell silent, the marks remained.
“I remember when you sing to me,” he said. “My mind. My heart.” He smiled before he kissed her. “You’re bringing me back to life.”
She smiled and leaned forward, craving another kiss.
There was a rustle in the forest and a blast of cold air.
His eyes narrowed and swung toward the disturbance.
The sound came again. Louder.
He squeezed her hand. “You need to wake up.”
“What?”
He sat and pulled her up with him. “Wake up, Ava.”
Fear clutched her throat. His name came to her. “Malachi?”
He shook her shoulders. “I’m not there. I’m not there, and there’s danger.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Wake up, Ava. Wake up now!”
“Malachi!”
She gasped, calling out his name as she sat bolt upright in bed. Renata’s flat was pitch-black, but Ava could hear someone struggling in the corner. Hissed voices and the rasping whispers that haunted her nightmares.
Grigori were in the room.
She heard a crack and a thud, then Mala stepped into a shaft of light, brandishing twin daggers that seemed to glow. She stalked toward Ava with death in her eyes.
“Mala?”
The Irina opened her mouth, but no sound came. It was enough to make Ava open her senses and listen.
Ava scrambled away from the hissing whisper she felt at her back just in time to escape the grip of the soldier who snuck from behind. He muttered a curse before he rolled away, dodging the silver daggers Mala threw at him. Ava kicked out, catching his knee with her heel. He grunted, still trying to remain quiet. The Grigori rolled into the darkness and Mala followed.
Ava yelled out, “Mala, lights?”
Two clicks of Mala’s tongue told her yes. She felt for the switch on the wall and flipped it up.
The smell of sandalwood filled the air, and the window to the bedroom was open. A flicker of the curtain as freezing air blasted into the room. Then another flicker as a shadow darted in the corner of her eye. The Grigori attacked silently, grabbing her neck as he tackled Ava to the ground. He forced a hand around her throat and pressed, cutting off both her voice and her air. She could hear another soldier climb in the window and run toward Mala.
The helpless rage filled her. His body trapped her on the ground. For all her training and preparation, she was no match for the large male. Her heart raced as his palm pressed harder. Her breath was running out. She would pass out soon, and there would be nothing to stop them.
Black spots danced in front of her eyes. Then the blackness grew and spread as the whispers in her mind grew louder.
Do not fear the darkness.
Ava closed her eyes.
A rush of wings and feathers from the corner of her vision. A rising shadow. Tall, as if a dark mountain had come to life, he loomed over her, cloaked in the void. A soughing breath stirred the black feathers that drooped over his hood. He was nothing. As if the stars had been snuffed in the night, he bore no face behind the droop of his black cloak. A nightmare. A monster. He leaned closer, forcing her to look. Forcing her to face the secret—