“Do you know anything about gemstones?” Maheen asked.

“Gemstones?” Ava frowned. “Not much.”

“I studied history. I couldn’t go to the university, but my father brought me books. Gemstones have fascinating history. Mythology…”

Her eyes drifted to the wall over Ava’s head. They were sitting at a table having lunch in her room. Though her grandmother was allowed to walk throughout the estate now that her rages and seizures had calmed down, Maheen still preferred to live in isolation.

Her mind was a raw wound.

She resisted any attempts to learn shielding, explaining to Ava that she was used to the voices and it let her know when someone was approaching. The shield Jaron had forced over her at times had been stifling. She said it felt like a prison, and she didn’t want another.

“Do you think you’ll ever want to leave here?” Ava asked.

“I’ll have to someday.” She took a deep breath. “I’ve been preparing myself for months now. I’ve been here five years. I can only be somewhere for six or seven before they start to notice.

“You have time.”

“It might be better…”

Ava waited, but Maheen was staring out the window now.

“No one’s going to force you out,” Ava said. “And there are places you can go if you want to leave.”

Ava was thinking of the various scribe houses and libraries that had begun to open to Irina who wanted to rejoin Irin society, and a few kareshta who had found their way to them. She didn’t know if her grandmother would be open to it, but she could try.

Maheen shook her head. “Not now. Not yet.”

“Okay.”

Their eyes met over the pot of honey-sweetened tea Maheen had requested.

“Thank you,” her grandmother told her. “I know I’m not the easiest person to visit. I didn’t even bake cookies.”

Ava saw one of those rare glimpses in that moment. Fire and intelligence and humor. The spark of life that had woken an archangel and drawn the lethal attention of a predator.

“I know,” Ava said. “You’re really falling down on the grandmother thing.”

Maheen barked out a short laugh. “I was a horrible mother too.”

Her smile fell.

She didn’t talk about Jasper.

“What do you do,” Ava asked, “when you don’t have visitors? Do you paint a lot? I like your canvases.”

Maheen waved to a row of them stacked against a wall. “Take them. As many as you like. I run out of room.”

“Thanks.”

“I paint.” Maheen nodded. “I read. I can enjoy music again. But mostly…”

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, an expression of utter peace falling across her face.

“I sleep.”

JASPER took a deep drag from another cigarette as they sat at the cafe in Toulouse. His coffee cup was empty. Ava was just glad it wasn’t a wineglass. After all, it was only ten in the morning. Spring had come early, so they were enjoying the morning sun as Malachi talked on his phone in the small park nearby. Talked and paced. Paced and scanned the streets.

“That guy ever calm down?” Jasper asked.

“Kinda.” She sipped her café au lait. “Not really.”

“I’m starting to think he’s more paranoid than Carl.”

“Old habits are hard to break.”

Jasper grunted. “I’m not complaining if it keeps you safe.”

“It does.” She nudged the ashtray with her own cup. “Is this all you’re doing lately?”

“It’s… ah, hell.” He looked sheepish. “I’m trying. Whatever your man said to Luis sent him on some kind of crusade, but you know me, baby girl. I ain’t ever gonna be father of the year.”

“I just want you healthy.”

He was. He would be for a long, long time, as far as any of them knew. Orsala had said nothing in Irina oral tradition spoke of humans with as much angelic blood as Jasper carried, and Rhys couldn’t find anything in the archives either. The glamour Jaron had placed over Jasper had disappeared, leaving him looking more like her brother than her father.

He didn’t ask questions. Mostly, Ava thought, because he didn’t want to know the answers.

“How was she this time?” He scratched at the stubble on his chin.

“She’s better,” Ava said. “Thanks for coming. Again. I keep hoping—”

“It’s cool, Ava.” He nodded. “Yeah, you never know. I’m glad she’s better. Is the uh…?” His finger lifted to tap at his temple. “That any better?”

“Not for her. Not yet. But I’m better.” She glanced at Malachi. “A lot better.”

Jasper could pretend they were normal. For now. But that wouldn’t and didn’t stop Ava from speaking the truth.

Words, she’d learned through experience, had immense power.

He’d have to learn eventually.

For now, they could drink their coffee and watch the flowers break open on the trees. Watch new life starting again and ignore the quickly passing years.

“I love you, baby girl.” Jasper slid an open hand across the table. “Best thing I ever did in my life.”

Ava put her palm in his. “Love you too, Jasper.”

He wasn’t much of a father, but he was hers. And Ava had realized he was the only part of her old life that would last into the new.

Malachi. Jasper. Maheen.

They would be her family.

She saw the car pull up and Luis step out, eyes flicking nervously between Jasper and Malachi.

“Do not know why your guy makes him so nervous.” Jasper stubbed out his cigarette and patted his pockets. “I’ve seen Luis scare dudes twice Malachi’s size, and yet that guy…” He shook his head. “No idea.”

“Oh, you know,” Ava said, trying to suppress the nervous smile. “It’s probably the tattoos.”

Jasper stood. “Ava, he’s in the music business. Tattoos are like cardigans to us.”

Ava threw her head back and laughed. Jasper took the opportunity to haul her to her feet to he could wrap his arms around her and squeeze. She hugged him back and relished the small kiss he planted on her head.

“Okay.” His voice was rough when he let go. “Back to the studio.”

“I’ll see you in a couple of months.”

“You better.”

He was patting his pockets again. “I know I put it in here…”

“What?”

“Ah.” He plucked a small USB drive out of the pocket on his chest. “There it is.”

He handed it to her, bent down and kissed her cheek before he walked toward the car.

“Jasper?” She looked at the drive and took a few steps toward him. “Dad!”

He turned, grinning. Mischief lit his eyes. “What?”

“What is this?”

The smile turned wistful. “I finally got it right.”

“Got what right?”

“It’s for you, Ava.” He slipped on his sunglasses. “It’s your song.”

Ava gripped the precious piece of plastic in her hand and watched him drive away.

“CANIM?” Malachi peeked his head through the door of their room in Istanbul. Ava pulled off the earphones and set them to the side of the desk where she had her books spread out.

“Hey,” she said. “What’s up?”

He watched her, his heart shining out of his eyes. “Your song again?”

“It’s beautiful.”

“It is.” He walked over and sat on the bed. “It’s the best thing he’s ever written.”

“Yeah.” She smiled and spread her hand over the history book she’d been reading. “It is.”

She fell silent and he watched her.

“You have a secret,” he whispered. “I can see it in your eyes.”

“You must be magic.”

“You have no idea.”

She didn’t say anything for a moment. Malachi just waited for her to speak.

“Do you know anything about gemstones?”

“Not much,” he said. “Is this a hint?”

“No, I don’t need a ring from you.” She closed the book and went to him, straddling his lap so they were face-to-face. “Jasper is an ancient stone,” she said, stroking her fingers along the close-cropped hair near his neck. “It’s used for protection.”