The Secret: Irin Chronicles Book Three (13 page)

“…troublesome child.”

“Barak should have killed him.”

“You killed Barak. Why… son still alive?”

They were indistinguishable by feature. She could only sense two beings with bright, glowing power and another clinging to one as a parasite to a host, feeding from the greater, though he did not know it. The Fallen were veiled, cloaking their power from the world and each other.

“…not long now.”

“Watching. We must…”

“Scattered.” Another voice drifted in and out. “…act now or they will discover them.”

“There is no danger.”

“There is every danger.”

“If they find them—”

“If they find them, they will be reborn. The silent must remain hidden…”

Ava strained, but she couldn’t hear more.

“…Irin will wake.”

“A sleeping enemy does not trouble me.”

“And Jaron?”

A pause. “Our brother does not have the strength to oppose us.”

Something in the mocking tone of his voice reminded Ava of Brage, and she knew the speaker was Volund.

“He will make their army his own.”

A growing sense of urgency. Wariness. Alarm?
 

Ava felt the black arms embrace her again just as Volund turned to stare into the void where she listened.

“Quiet, brothers.” A long pause. “Azril, do you come among us?”

She dissolved, only to merge with her body again, her fingers still resting on her mate’s back.

Warm hands clasped her face, though she could not see them. A cheek pressed against her own.

I cannot go to her,
the angel whispered in her mind.
Though she calls me by my true name, I cannot reach her.

The longing in his voice almost broke her.

“Who?”

Tell her I have not forgotten.

He was melting back into the shadows, and Ava still wasn’t sure what was a dream and what had been real.

“Who are you talking about?” She crawled toward the darkness, desperate to understand. “Please! Who?”

Ava
.

And he was gone.

Chapter Seven

DESPITE THEIR INITIAL HOPE, searching through Luis Martin’s financial information proved to be just as successful as searching Jasper Reed’s.

“If anything,” Rhys griped, “this is even more frustrating.”

“Yes, he’s a bit paranoid about privacy, isn’t he?”

Malachi and Rhys were in the library. Malachi was waiting for Orsala to call him. She was doing meditation exercises with Ava in the sparring room. Then he would join them and they were going to practice defensive spellwork.

“It seems wrong to call him paranoid when we’re hacking into his e-mail, doesn’t it?”

Malachi shrugged. “Slightly.”

“Oh well.”

They continued to work, Rhys trying every keyword search he could think of to look for any mention of Ava’s grandmother. Unfortunately, she was also named Ava, meaning that any search for her name hit on correspondence related to Jasper Reed’s daughter and not his mother.

“He and Luis talk about her often,” Rhys said. “I think her father thinks of her more than she realizes.”

“Thinking of her and actually acting like a father are two very different things.”

“Have you and Ava talked about children?”

“Briefly.” Which wasn’t something he wanted to discuss with Rhys. “What is that? He just mentioned a transfer to a Swiss bank.”

“Shite.” Rhys groaned. “Not that one. Their systems are archaic.”

“But secure,” Malachi said. “There’s a reason why they’re still as popular as they are. If Luis was making payments there, we need to determine what for.”

“We’re not going to be able to find out. Not from the bank. They still use paper. But let me…” Rhys tapped the keys rapidly. Screens popped up and disappeared faster than Malachi could read them.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m searching the exact dollar amount within his financial records. It wasn’t a flat amount. $41,569.14 is not a random number. That’s payment for something…” He tapped a few more keys and smiled. “Something specific. And monthly. Aha.” Rhys sat back, a smile of satisfaction on his face. “I believe he pays that amount every month.”

“How do you know?”

“Because he’s transferred five hundred thousand dollars into that Swiss account every year for the past five years. Divide that by twelve and you have—”

“A little over $41,569? But why the single payment then? There must have been something unexpected that came up.”

“Maybe it was just timing. That first payment was in December five years ago. A single month’s payment before a monthly fee was set up? Automatically paid from the Swiss account probably.”

Malachi sat back. “What costs that much for one person?”

“I think Reed—through his manager—is paying to keep his mother somewhere. A private institution, perhaps. Remember what Ava thought when we first met her? She thought she was insane. If Jasper Reed’s mother was like Ava and living among humans, they might lock her up for hearing voices. That amount would fit with a private mental institution.”

“And he’d hide her so thoroughly because he thought she was mentally ill?” Malachi was skeptical. “Wipe her from the public records? Hide her behind his manager and a Swiss bank account? That seems excessive.”

“Unless she’s violent. Dangerous. Or
in
danger from someone else.”

It was possible.

“We need to search private mental institutions in Europe and the US.” He turned and saw Orsala standing at the door. “Search for any that cost that much on a monthly basis.”

“Already on it,” Rhys said. “See to your mate.”

MALACHI shook his head. “No.”

Ava’s eyes were pleading. “But I can’t practice defensive spells unless someone is attacking me.” She spread her legs shoulder width apart and squared her shoulders. “Go on. I’ve rehearsed this a million times, but I don’t know what I’ll do in the middle of the actual spell. Orsala is here to stop me in case anything goes wrong.”

Malachi crossed his arms over his chest. “While I’m duly terrified of your defensive abilities,
canım
, I’m more reluctant to attack you because you’re my mate and I don’t wish to hurt you. You may proceed without the attack from me.”

Ava’s jaw dropped. “Wow. Really? How old did you sound just then?”

Orsala said, “About four hundred years old. Ava, what did you expect? I told you it would be better to ask Rhys or Leo.”

Malachi glared. “Absolutely not.”

“Your friends would have no problem helping Ava practice.”

“They would if they wanted to avoid injuries from me.”

“Stubborn man!”

“I don’t need an old woman’s approval to protect my mate.”

Ava held up both hands and stepped between them. “We’re not doing this. I need to practice. This isn’t a battle of the sexes. Malachi, you’re my husband. Mate. Whatever. And I expect you to help me become stronger. I’ve tried unprovoked defensive spells, and they just don’t work. I’m not getting that gut reaction I need to make them effective. So if you aren’t willing or able to help me—”

“If there is no other option, then fine.” Her matter-of-fact attitude convinced him. She was correct. To not help her become stronger would be to fail in his duties as her mate. “And we’re getting married as soon as possible. If you prefer not to call me your mate, then I’ll at least be your husband.”

“Technically,” Orsala said as she moved back to the wall, “she’s not your mate either.”

Ava’s mouth dropped open, and Malachi said, “Yes, she is. Why in heaven would you say that?”

Orsala frowned. “Has she completed the mating ritual? I thought only you had performed it. Your magic doesn’t reflect a mated couple.”

Ava looked horrified. “I haven’t.” She turned to him. “What does that mean? What do I need to do?”

According to what he’d been told, Orsala was technically correct. Malachi had marked Ava before his death, but she’d never completed her side of the ritual, and he hadn’t tattooed the mark that would make her claim permanent.

Ava was upset. “But we’re dream-walking. And I… I feel you. I thought I was your mate. What we have—”

“Of course you’re my mate,” he said, soothing her. “We are
reshon
. Nothing can negate that. It’s fine,
canım
.”

“It’s not,” Orsala said. “He gave you his power, but you have not given him yours. Your mate will not heal fully until you do.”

“But what do I do?”

Malachi marched over to the old woman. “She will not be pressured into this. This is between Ava and me.”

“I’m not pressuring her. But you do her no favors. Mates carry each other’s burdens. Do you think she is not able to carry yours?”

“That has nothing to do with it.” And everything to do with Ava being as strong as possible. If she gave him her power, as so many Irina had before the Rending, then it was possible she would be weakened at a point when she might be vulnerable.

He turned to Ava. “We will complete the ritual in our own time. When things are safer for you.”

Ava stepped to him. “Is she right?”

He was unable to lie to her. “I’m strong enough without borrowing your power.”

Malachi saw Orsala shaking her head from the corner of his eye.

“It’s not about strength or weakness,” she said. “It’s about sharing a burden.”

The old woman strode over and, without warning, pushed Malachi over. Surprised by the old woman’s move, Malachi lost his footing, falling backward on the mat. His shoulders bounced off the practice mat, his hands slapped down. He was up as quickly as he’d fallen, his fists clenched and his shoulders squared.

“What was that?”

“A point,” Orsala said, circling the angry scribe. “I’m not stronger than you. Magically, perhaps, but I didn’t use magic.” She stepped closer and lowered her voice. “Trust me. You’d know if did.”

Malachi felt the press of her influence in his mind, but he refused to look away from her testing eyes.
 

The corner of her mouth lifted in reluctant approval. “You have the will of an ox.”

“What is your point, old woman?”

“I’m not stronger than you, but you were not expecting an attack. You were unbalanced. Balance can be more important than strength, depending on the situation. If you and Ava are out of balance, then both of you are weaker. You are mates. Two halves of a whole. Learn from the foolishness of your fathers, Malachi of Sakarya, and do not make the same mistakes. Don’t underestimate your other half.”
 

Malachi looked at Ava. “I don’t want—”

“I’m offering.” Ava stepped forward. “I want this, Malachi. I’ve always wanted it. I didn’t like you giving me your power to begin with.”

“It was necessary.” According to Rhys, she wouldn’t have survived the battle in the cistern without his strength. Malachi had no regrets, even if it had cost him his life and his memories.

Ava turned away from him. “Teach me what to do.”

Malachi crossed his arms again. “Not at the expense of your defensive spellwork.”

“I can teach her both,” Orsala said. “Have no fear, Scribe. Your woman will be protected from all sides. And now can we depend on your help to finish this lesson?”

Malachi looked between Ava and Orsala, knowing that at some point he’d lost the upper hand. He just couldn’t figure out when. “Fine.”

“Cool!” Ava said.

She grinned and Malachi couldn’t be annoyed anymore. She looked too happy. He’d promised to attack her during her lesson, and she was thrilled.

“Gabriel’s bloody fist,” he muttered, bracing himself for the lesson ahead.

“I’M sorry!” She knelt over him, his hand clutched between hers. She might have said she was sorry, but she didn’t look it. She looked thrilled.

Malachi wiped the trickle of blood from his lip and grinned. “Very good, Ava.”

Without warning, he grabbed her by the shoulders and hooked his ankle around her knee, rolling them over so he was straddling her.

“
Vashahuul
,” she whispered, freezing him for a split second. In that moment, she lifted her knees up between his legs and pressed up, throwing him off-balance. “
Vashaman
!” she shouted, amplifying the spell. He froze again. It didn’t last long, but the split second he was paralyzed gave her an edge.

“Don’t forget ‘
fasham
,’ Ava!” Orsala shouted from the side of the room.

“
Ya fasham
,” she hissed, and Malachi felt the wave of dizziness hit him immediately. The ground tilted between his feet.

Fasham
. A simple word in the Old Language meaning “to tilt or unbalance” but in the mouth of an Irina,
ya fasham
was the command to fall.

He fell. Flat on his back, the wind knocked out of him.

“Now the staff. And remember, any spell can be amplified with
man
.”