The Singer
Page 91

“Can you ever?” she asked. “With humans?”
“I don’t know that I ever tried.” He shrugged. “Maybe. Or perhaps I simply do not remember. I have existed longer than your mind can fathom.”
The man beyond the hedge continued to circle, growing ever more agitated. She could sense his desire to come to her. His desire to protect her from the creature that sat at her side. She knew this, just as she knew that she could not let him in.
“Not yet,” she whispered.
The Fallen smiled. “No, not yet.”
“What do you want from me?”
He placed a hand on her temple and whispered, “It’s time to listen.”
But it wasn’t a song she fell into. The images shot to her mind in glittering, violent life. Two dark eagles with golden eyes, wings spread as they screamed. They flew at each other, colliding in midair as blood dripped over her eyes. A wolf paced at her feet and a tiger lounged in the distance, watching with a lazy, glowing stare.
Only watching.
Jackals circled and laughed, but the laughter held fear, not glee. All the while, the great birds screamed as feathers and blood filled the air.
They tore at each other until one, claws dripping with blood, plunged his bladed beak into the chest of the other, ripping its heart until the great bird fell at her feet, staring into her eyes as she screamed.
“I will tear the threads of heaven to return. And you will help me, Ava.”
Tears were hot on her face when she woke. Ava gasped and sat up, but Malachi did not stir beside her. His bare shoulders twitched as if he was still dreaming. She looked at him, scooting away until they no longer touched. She had slept pressed against him, and her body revolted at the loss.
But her mind…
Somewhere in his sleep, he reached for her. He stretched his arm across the expanse of the bed until his hand lay resting against the skin of her ankle. His fingers closed around it, he took a deep breath, then he relaxed into sleep again.
“Why do you keep him away?”
She remembered everything from her dream. Unlike the misty visions she’d clung to when she’d dreamt of Malachi, her vision of Jaron was glaringly clear.
“You will always rebel… It is in your very blood.”
The thought made her shiver, so she stared at the broad expanse of Malachi’s back, mentally tracing the patterns that were no longer there.
In the silent darkness, a wave of doubt washed over her.
What had she done? It was Malachi, but it wasn’t. She had made love to a dream but woken with a man she no longer knew. A stranger who claimed to love her but had no memories of their brief life together.
“Imagine a person created for you. Another being so in tune with you that their voice is the clearest you’ve ever heard in your mind.”
Would she still hear him as she had? Or had their connection been permanently severed in death?
Had she heard his voice the night before? Had she imagined it? Maybe she’d forced herself not to listen for it, but a tiny voice whispered to her that maybe…
Maybe Malachi wasn’t truly hers. Not anymore.
“I think I’d pull down heaven if that’s what it took to keep you here with me.”
“And I’d abandon it if you weren’t there.”
The memory of his words brought tears to her eyes, because as precious as that memory was to her, he wouldn’t remember it. He wouldn’t remember their first kiss or the soft laughter after they’d made love. He wouldn’t remember her anger and confusion or his quiet way of reassuring her with just a look and a hand. He wouldn’t remember the stories she’d told him about her family or the rambling memories of four hundred years of life that he’d shared with her.
Mind-boggling. Wonderful.
Gone.
He wouldn’t remember the night he mated her, drawing his magic onto her body or the passion that had united them as one. The stranger who’d come back to her had found the other half of himself, but Ava’s soul still felt torn in two.
Her hand reached out, tracing the curve of a bare shoulder. She tried to remember exactly what had once covered it, but she couldn’t. At her touch, his twitching body stilled, and she cautiously opened up her mind to his voice.
It was the same, but different. And just like before, it was startling in its clarity. Words tumbled over each other as he dreamed. She could hardly keep up with his mind. But one phrase whispered to her, over and over.
Vashama canem, reshon.
Come back to me.
This time, he was reaching for her. The dark hedge in her dream flashed into her memory, and Ava started to sniff. Malachi woke at the sound and immediately sat up, wrapping his arms around her.
“What is it?”
She shook her head but could say nothing. She’d never felt more confused in her life.
“Ava, please.” His voice was strained, and he rocked her back and forth. “I need to know how to help you. What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know what is wrong?”
“I don’t know… anything. You’re here, but I still feel alone.”
He went completely still.
She forced the words out of her mouth. “I’m so confused, Malachi. You were dead. I felt you die. I still feel that ache. But you’re here. And I was—I am so happy. I don’t know how to explain it.”
His arms dropped from around her, and he leaned away. His voice came to her so low she could barely hear it.