The Singer

Chapter Fifteen

His roar of frustration finally brought a pounding at the door. Malachi had been pacing for hours. It was the middle of the night, but somewhere his mate was in danger. Someone had attacked her. He’d woken from his dream with sweat pouring from him, his heart racing, and adrenaline pumping through his system. He’d bolted from the bed, ready for battle.

But there was nothing to do.

He was in one of the secured guest rooms at Gabriel’s townhouse. Leo was in the room next to him. They’d followed Damien’s brother-in-law there after their meeting.

“How did you know? Who told you?”

“Evren called me when he found some information he thought you should know. He knew my father, and he trusts me. You really ought to be better about checking your messages, Leo.”

“What—?”

“It has to do with Ava’s father. And… an impossibility that is looking more possible all the time.”

Gabriel had tucked them into his black chauffeured car and hidden Malachi and Leo away in his spacious home. Gabriel, along with being Konrad’s right hand, was a financier in the city and had accumulated more than his share of wealth. They’d left a message for Rhys to meet them there. As much as Malachi distrusted everything around him, Leo was certain that Gabriel was an ally. Max—who seemed to know just about everyone—confirmed it.

Leo called, “Malachi?”

He said nothing. He couldn’t stop the animalistic growl that left his throat. She was out there, and he had no power to help her. He didn’t even know where she was. Every night since he’d realized his dreams were more than dreams, he went to sleep commanding himself to ask her where she was. To tell her that he was alive. Truly alive. And every night, his mind hazed and he could focus only on her. The outside world fell into shadow. His conscious demands drifted away.

The pounding came again.

“Malachi.” It was Gabriel. “Open the door, or I will break it.”

Something in the scribe’s voice told Malachi he wasn’t joking. He opened the door.

Leo and Gabriel stood there, both dressed in pajamas, both with clenched fists.

“What the—”

“She’s in danger.”

Gabriel’s eyes narrowed. “How do you know?”

“I know! We were there, in the dream, and I felt it. Like a shadow surrounding us. Then it came closer. It was searching for her. For Ava.”

“Where?” Gabriel stepped into the room. “Where were you?”

“In the dreams…” The truth tumbled from his lips. “I’ve been dreaming. Well, I thought they were dreams at first, but they’re not.” He held out his arm. “She sings to me and they grow. She’s… healing me. But I can’t talk to her. It’s so—”

“Dreamy?” Gabriel raised an eyebrow. “Yes, I could have told you. That’s how the dream walks work.”

“Dream walking?” Leo slapped his forehead and followed Gabriel into Malachi’s room. “Of course! Why didn’t I think of it? She’s his mate! How could I be so stupid?”

“Since you’ve never been mated, it probably wouldn’t be the first thing you thought of.” Gabriel sat on the bench near the foot of the bed and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “And there was no way of knowing how Malachi’s death would affect their bond. Tell me more details. Well… not all the details. But there might be clues.”

“Are you listening to me?” Malachi said. “She is in danger!”

“And there is absolutely nothing you can do about it,” Gabriel said, rising to his feet. “It’s frustrating, isn’t it? To know that your mate is threatened. To know her fear. Her panic.”

“You have no idea.”

“I have every idea.” The cold words cut through the room, reminding all of them that Gabriel had lost his mate, Tala. Damien had taken her into battle, and she had perished.

Gabriel continued in his chilling voice. “But there’s nothing you can do for her right now. If she was dead, you would feel it.”

“Does it hurt?” The fire went out of Malachi’s belly. The pain twisted in his chest. “When I died, did it hurt her?”

He wasn’t sure whether or not Gabriel would even answer. But the scribe raised his chin and said, “Yes. It hurts. Physically. Emotionally. If she was gravely injured, you would feel it. Not in an incapacitating way, but you would know. Do you feel anything like that?”

“No.”

“Then she was in danger, but the danger has passed. Tell me about your dreams.”

He could feel the heat in his cheeks and Gabriel gave him a knowing look. “We don’t talk much.”

“That’s normal. Most Irin couples who are physically parted don’t spend their dream walks in conversation.”

The three men settled into seats near the fireplace. Clearly, sleep was a memory.

“Why can’t I ask her questions?” Malachi asked. “Every night, I go to sleep, and I tell myself I will ask her where she is. But when the dream starts…”

Gabriel crossed his arms and took a deep breath. “I’ve heard it said by scholars far more intelligent than me that the Forgiven gave Irin mates their ability to dream walk in order to feed the soul. It is not conscious life, though it still feeds us physically. Otherwise, our tactile need for each other when we were separated would become a liability.”

“So even though I’m away from her, I’m still caring for her?” It helped. To know that he was at least doing something.

Gabriel nodded. “She’s probably sleeping better than most widowed mates would. She’d be more calm. Centered. Physically, she will be stronger because of the walks.”

“But why can’t I ask her anything? Why can’t I ask here where she is, like I always tell myself to.”

“You don’t understand. You’re not meeting on a conscious level. Dream walks are your souls speaking to each other. And the soul isn’t concerned about worldly problems. Day-to-day worries never enter into a dream walk. You don’t chat about the children or work. If you’re fighting, your souls would reach for each other more, not less. Dream walks are the place Irin mates connect on the most spiritual level, where your soul reads your mate’s and gives it exactly what it needs. Connection. Comfort. Pleasure. It’s not like a normal conversation.”

“So her soul doesn’t need me to find her?” That couldn’t be correct. He had reached for her even when he didn’t know her name.

“Don’t you see?” Gabriel asked. “Her soul has already found you, Malachi. Within her dreams. Your souls have found each other. It is only your bodies that have not.”

Leo asked, “Do you think she knows they’re more than dreams?”

“Probably not. After all, why would she even consider it?” Gabriel’s voice was rough. “She thinks Malachi is dead. They all do. After Tala died, I dreamed of her almost every night. For years. I knew it wasn’t the same because I’d experienced dream walking, so I knew the difference. Ava does not. She probably thinks her walks with Malachi are only that. Very vivid dreams.”

Malachi cursed silently. Then he held out his arm. “And this? My talesm returning?”

“That, I have no idea about.” Gabriel shook his head. “It’s not like we’ve seen many resurrected scribes. It must have something to do with her particular magic. The scholars would drool over this.”

Leo said, “And the reason we’re not consulting them is…?”

“I finally spoke to Rhys last night,” Gabriel said. “He’s been here for a week now, doing research. Based on what he’s seen, he thinks there is too much division in the archives. He wants to keep Ava and Malachi as quiet as possible, at least for now. All the elders have their own scholars doing research into the Irina problem, trying to find writings or visions that back up their own position.” He shrugged. “Konrad does. And he’s one of the most honorable elders on the council. But he’s not going to actively support research that could favor compulsion any more than Edmund is going to support research in favor of restoration.”

According to Gabriel, the Irin Council had become fairly evenly divided into two camps: those elders supporting compulsion, which would hunt down the Irina and force them back into heavily guarded retreats “for their own safety and the future of the Irin race”; and restoration, which would petition the most respected Irina to reform the Irina Council so that Irina could come back to public life with full protection.

It was more complicated than Malachi had expected. Compulsion grated on his instincts, but the arguments were compelling. The Irin were dying off. Generations of Irin children had been lost. The Irina needed to be protected. In fact, some of the most pro-compulsion elders on the council had lost mates and daughters during the Rending. They were passionate about the safety of the Irina. Passionate about the need for them to be protected from the Grigori. And most did not downplay the Grigori threat.

On the other hand, many of the elders who supported restoration clearly had no idea just how much the Grigori were spreading. They dismissed the Fallen, almost as if they were something out of a myth. They claimed that those in favor of compulsion were fear-mongering bigots, that there was little threat to the Irina. They needed to simply step back into public life and everything would sort itself out.

Vienna was a city riddled by politics, confused by its own safety, and flush with more money than Malachi had ever imagined. It was lazy and indulgent. The city stank of greed.

“We should try to get some sleep,” Leo said. “Rhys will be by in the morning, and Max is supposed to call around noon.”

“Where is Max?”

“I don’t know,” Leo said. “He mentioned a message from a contact the last time I talked to him. I think he was in Berlin.”

“Berlin?”

Leo grinned. “They asked after you. If we’re going to keep your story a secret, we may need to avoid the city. You spent many years in Berlin.”

By noon, Gabriel had gone into his offices and Leo, Rhys, and Malachi met with Konrad in Gabriel’s library.

“So you are the scribes that nobody and everybody is talking about,” Konrad said. He was a gruff man. Not handsome in the least, he appeared to bear the weight of the world on his stooped shoulders. He was barrel-chested and gray-haired, clearly having cut back on the longevity spells after he’d lost his mate, Catherine. She had not died in the Rending but, of all things, a traffic collision while they were on holiday. It was a shocking reminder to Malachi of how dangerous the world could be, even in ordinary times.

“I don’t know about that,” Malachi said. “I’m not much for gossip.”

“Oh, we eminent politicians don’t call it gossip, Malachi. We call it ‘intelligence.’” He lifted the corner of his mouth in what could almost be a smile. “I knew your father for a time. You look like him. When we were young, we trained together near Jerusalem. Of course, that was very long ago.”

“Yes, sir.”

“You lost him during the Rending?”

Malachi looked at Leo. He was trusting that the story the scribe had told him was true, since he didn’t remember much about his parents. “They were in the conflict in Berlin. They were living in a retreat near there and both went into the city to fight.”

“And I suppose that is why the Grigori call you the Butcher of Berlin, eh?” Konrad sniffed. “Good work there. We need more soldiers like you.”

Malachi blinked, unaware of the nickname. Leo smiled nervously. Clearly, he’d forgotten to give Malachi all the details of his past life.

Ignoring it, Malachi steered the conversation in another direction. “It’s good to know that not all the elders are unaware of the escalating Grigori threat.”

“No, not all of us are unaware.”

Rhys muttered, “But enough to make it a concern.”

Konrad said, “Well, it doesn’t help convincing people when things like Grigori burning down scribe houses are left unreported.”

Rhys said, “That, I do not understand. I know Damien reported it. I heard him make the call.”

“Oh, we knew it had burned, but it was ruled accidental by the Turkish authorities.”

“No.” Rhys shook his head. “Damien was on the phone with someone in Vienna. He told them it was a Grigori attack. He told them that Volund’s soldiers were in the city. That Jaron has ceded control.”

Konrad said, “We never got that message. I only heard rumors and innuendo. Someone died. Someone found a mate. It was never clear what had happened to whom.” He nodded toward Malachi. “And now the story you tell me? If I hadn’t seen his talesm so depleted, I’d think you were liars. But no scribe reaches his age with so few spells. It’s unnatural.”

“Did Evren call you?”

“No, but he called an associate I trust. A genealogist from America.” Konrad raised an eyebrow. “This theory they have about your mate’s identity is… unorthodox.”

“Everything we know tells us that it should be impossible,” Rhys said. “But I agree with Evren, no other option makes sense.”

“Irina have taken human lovers over the centuries,” Konrad said. “This has always happened, because they are not bound by touch as we are. It’s not something a family would talk about. As far as I can tell, no children have ever come from those unions. Biologically, we’ve never understood why, but—”

“But Ava’s father is the only possibility at this point. If Jasper Reed’s mother was Irina—who somehow had a child by a human—it’s possible she could have hidden it.”

“And who is his mother? Your mate’s grandmother? Do we know? She must have been extraordinarily powerful for her granddaughter to control so much magic with only a fraction of Irin blood.”

Rhys said, “That’s the problem. We’re having trouble finding anything about her. We found Reed’s medical records from the American foster-care system. Her name had been erased, but that’s not a problem for us, of course.” Rhys glanced at Malachi. “Her first name was Ava, and that’s the only name listed. We have no other evidence of her. No paperwork. She disappeared from the system after she surrendered her son.”

“Is she alive?”

Leo said, “Ava says she isn’t. That her father told her his mother died when he was a child.”

Konrad said to Malachi, “And your mate was named after her grandmother.”

“Apparently.”

“Ava is a very common Irina name,” Rhys added quietly.

Konrad sat back in his chair and looked between the three of them. He looked for a long while as a smile teased the corner of his lips. “You think this is bigger than one misplaced Irina,” he finally said, smiling at Malachi. “You think there are more.”

“If we didn’t know about Ava, maybe we don’t know about others,” Malachi said. “If one Irina had a child with a human lover and hid it, others could have as well. Maybe there are lost Irina out there. If there are, they need us to find them. They are not at home in the human world.”

Rhys added, “And if there are more Irina, if our race was not in danger of dying out, it would change the balance of the council, would it not? If there are lost Irina out there, Grigori would be drawn to them. Perhaps some unity of purpose could be sought. Contain the Grigori and find our lost sisters.”

“It would be a goal all would be able to support, even the most hesitant members of the council. An interesting theory,” Konrad acknowledged as he rose to his feet, coffee finished. “But it is only a theory right now. The more pressing issue is the Grigori problem. We don’t need our focus shifted from hunting Grigori to hunting Irina who may not want to be found. It’s foolish and useless. Find Damien. I need to speak to him. If he reported the details of the Grigori attack to someone in Vienna and the report was hidden, I need to know.”

“And you need to know whether whoever he spoke to has suppressed other reports of Grigori aggression,” Leo said. “Communication may have broken down. And if protocol isn’t being followed…”

“I will look into this,” Konrad said. “But now, I must go.”

Malachi, Leo, and Rhys stood to walk Konrad to the door.

“The scribe house in Budapest says that requests for funds are being ignored,” Malachi told him. “They feel they are fighting Grigori without support. Is he the only one?”

Konrad shook his head. “No. But I’m one of the lone voices in the wilderness on this issue.” He waved his arms around the room. “We are in Vienna! Jewel of the Irin crown. Grigori attacks are almost unheard of. They happen… elsewhere. More scribes are concerned about their empty houses and empty beds than the human population. They want mates and families, not war in far-off places.”

Leo snorted. “Budapest is not so far away.”

“Nor is Istanbul. Paris. London.” Rhys frowned. “Do Irin here really not know?”

“Some do. Some don’t. They ignore it if it’s convenient for them.”

Malachi shook his head. “Vienna is slowly being surrounded by increasingly aggressive Grigori. The Fallen are showing their face to us. Powers are shifting. Vienna will not be able to bury the truth for long.”

Konrad said, “Bring Ava and Damien to the city. Give me proof to show the council. Without proof, without testimony, I am speaking to deaf ears.”

“Has Max called yet?”

“No.”

Leo was sitting near the window, staring out into the quiet street when Malachi walked in. He felt restless. There was nothing to do in the city. Rhys was continuing his research at the archives, trying to track down the families and genealogies of other Irina who were known to have taken human mates. Gabriel was at his office, putting together more funds for their search, which Konrad had quietly approved. Leo and Malachi were stuck at the house with nothing to do and no Grigori to fight.

Malachi sat down across from him. “Ava was named after her grandmother,” he said. “It can’t be a coincidence that Jasper Reed named his daughter his biological mother’s name. He was put into the system when he was very young, but he must have known her name.”

“I’m surprised Ava’s mother allowed Reed to name her,” Leo said. “I thought she didn’t have much to do with him.”

“Lena Matheson might not have known the significance. And Ava is a common enough human name.”

“There’s no other record of the first Ava?”

“Not that Rhys has found. Or Konrad’s contact in America.”

Leo was silent for some time. Then he said, “If he knew her name, is it possible he knew more than that?”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s a very famous musician, isn’t he? He has a lot of money. Do we know if he was wealthy when Ava was born?”

Malachi said, “Rhys said Reed was already famous when Ava was born.”

“So he probably had money. And if he had money, he could have found his mother. Maybe as an adult, even. Reed might be the reason her records don’t exist.”

“Why would he make his own mother disappear? Especially if she was dead?”

Leo shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“But if he has her records, or knows where they are…” Malachi was starting to see where Leo was going. “There’s no way we could talk to him. He has bodyguards. Handlers.”

“But he only has one daughter.”

“He would tell Ava. Probably.”

“Maybe.”

The phone rang. The loud electronic buzz filled the silent library.

Leo picked it up. “Max?”

Malachi could hear his brother’s voice from across the room.

“Get to Oslo, Leo. Get Malachi and get on a plane now.”

Malachi’s heart raced. “Oslo?”

“I’ve found them,” Max said. “I’ve found Ava.”