“The council must love that,” Malachi said.

Ava put her knives down, no longer able to concentrate. “What can they do, though? They can’t force Irina into retreats. Not when they’ve been hiding for so long. What right do they have? What—”

“No right, Ava.” Leo put a hand on her shoulder. “But there are those who could make life difficult if they chose to.”

“How?”

Sari answered again. “Most of us have mates who are active in Irin society. Soldiers. Watchers. Teachers. Right now, if a scribe has a mate and family, it is accepted that he might be gone for a time. Sometimes for a very long time. But if those in authority over them wanted to, they could make it impossible for those scribes to see their mates and children.”

“They would break up families?” Ava asked.

Damien said, “They would make it sound like they are only thinking of the safety of those families. The problem is, the Irin council members who take the Grigori threat seriously are the ones most adamant that the Irina must be forced into retreats. And those who believe the Grigori are no threat are those who would allow the Irina to step forward on their own. In their own time.”

It was Malachi who asked the question. “Sari, what do the Irina you speak to want?”

She walked over and kissed him on the mouth. “Yes, Sari, what do the Irina want?”

Leo and Rhys laughed, but Malachi just smiled and pulled her down to sit next to him.

Sari said, “Right now, we’re trying to decide who should come to Vienna. We haven’t had a ruling council for over two hundred years. My grandmother is adamant that it must be reformed if anything is to be accomplished.”

Rhys asked, “And what does the Irin Council think about that?”

“They’re old men not used to sharing power,” Leo said. “What do you think?”

Damien said, “They know it is inevitable. With Irina raising their voices again, they cannot ignore it. They’re positioning singers who believe in compulsion to take positions of power.”

“There are Irina who believe in compulsion?” Ava asked.

“Yes,” Sari answered. “We are not of one mind. Nor do we have to be. But we’ve changed in the years since the Rending. There are too many who lost everything to the Grigori and the Fallen. They won’t be compliant again.”

They spoke of specifics for some time. Which council members were sympathetic. Which were hostile. Sari was passionate. Damien was fed up and clearly wanted to kill someone or something as soon as possible.

It was a full hour later before she and Sari could speak privately.

“You’re not using your magic,” Sari said.

“Sari, I—”

“I don’t want to hear excuses. I want to know why.”

Ava pursed her lips. “You’re not my mother or my boss.”

“I care about you, Ava. And your mate is one of Damien’s closest friends. Your power is substantial, and whatever we may be facing, we need you to be able to control it.”

She said nothing. How could she explain the threat she felt inside? It came from within. There was a darkness that lived in her. Ava had never sensed the same in Sari or Orsala or any of the Irina she’d met at the haven.

“I’m different, Sari.”

“Do you think I don’t know that?”

“Did Orsala—”

“My grandmother knows your power is not like the others. That doesn’t make it dangerous unless you don’t learn control. Are you shielding at least?”

“Yes.”

“How about offensive spells? Have you practiced those? Malachi and Rhys can help you.”

She clammed up.

Sari huffed out a breath. “You have to use your magic.”

“I’m using it.”

“Not the way you need to be.”

She picked at the edge of the blanket in their bedroom. She could hear Malachi waiting in the hall, trying to give her privacy. She wished he would just come in.

“I have other stuff on my mind, Sari.”

“What is more important than learning how to harness your power?”

“I don’t know. Learning where it came from, maybe?”

The other woman was quiet, and Ava heard Malachi pacing. Frustrated, she sent out a tentative brush of power. It was hard to describe. A little like blowing air in his direction, but with her mind. A second later, she felt an answering brush of awareness, and he cracked the door open with a grin.

“You called me,” he whispered, smiling.

She shrugged one shoulder and said, “I need to go, Sari. Malachi is here.”

“How is he?”

“He’s a pain in the ass sometimes. Right now he’s very smug.” Her mate kept smiling and lay down on the bed, putting his head in her lap. “But he’s mine.”

“You sound content.”

She brushed a hand through his hair. “I am.”

Malachi let out a rumble of pleasure and turned his face to her belly, putting an arm around her waist.

“I’m going to send Orsala to you.”

Her fingers tightened in his hair. “What?”

“Ouch,” he said. “Ava, really… ow.”

“I just decided. This will be good! You were going to come here, but Vienna is unstable right now. I don’t know how you’d be received. Instead, Orsala can go to you. Mala is here and restless. I’ll send them both to you in Istanbul. Damien says Rhys is one scribe short for the house. Mala will more than make up for that.”

“And she’ll torture me.”

“You’re probably out of shape.”

“Sari!”

“Let go,” Malachi said with a grunt. “It’s not my fault she’s sending them.”

“Tell Malachi I heard that,” Sari said. “What are you doing to him?”

Ava was panicking. “Sari, I really don’t think—”

“Damien is nodding. He agrees with me. I’ll talk to her tonight, and we’ll let you know when they will arrive.”

Malachi untangled her frozen hand and sat up next to her.

“But I need to go find my—”

“Whatever it is, my grandmother can help. She needs something to do anyway, and that way she’ll be able to continue your lessons like she was going to after Oslo. This is an excellent plan. Damien agrees.”

“Sari!”

“I need to go. I’ll e-mail with details later.”

The phone was silent a second later, and Ava sat with her mouth hanging open. “I was ambushed.”

“I was injured,” he said, rubbing his scalp. “Sari’s wrong. I don’t think you’re out of shape at all.”

THE phone rang late that night. She was in Malachi’s arms, and she reached across his chest to grab it before he could wake, putting it on silent as she checked the number. She didn’t recognize it, so she answered cautiously.

“Hello?”

“Ava?”

“Max?”

“Your father is in Genoa. Well, a little town in that region. Not far from Portofino.”

“Portofino?”

“He has a house there. An old castle he’s renting.”

She blinked, trying to clear her mind. “You’ve seen him?”

“Renata found him. He’s not in good shape, sister.”

She was still only half awake when Malachi took the phone from her.

“Send us the details,” he said, rubbing her shoulders, which had gone stiff at Max’s tone. “We’ll leave tomorrow.”

Chapter Three

MALACHI OPENED HIS EYES, knowing he was no longer in Istanbul.

He dreamed, but Ava was not with him.

He was no longer in the forest of his mate’s walks, but a room that resembled the ritual room of a scribe house. Wax candles dripped on the center table where coals from the sacred fire forced tendrils of heat through the room. Etchings marked the walls, ancient spells protecting the children of the Forgiven from harm.

And the black presence that stalked his mate lurked at the edge of his dreaming.

An epicene figure rose in the corner of the room. “I cannot reach her, but I can reach you.”