The Staff and the Blade: Irin Chronicles Book Four (40 page)

Malachi said, “Tell them. Show them. There is no shame in trying.”

Though she clearly didn’t want to. Sari could hardly blame the girl. It was obvious she hated being the center of attention.

“I can try to sing you the vision so you can see what I saw.”

The scribes present looked confused. Orsala looked excited.

Sari asked, “Like you did at the sing? That was amazing.”

Lang asked, “What is this?”

Damien leaned over to him and tried to explain what Ava could do, but Sari knew by the excitement in the room that all Lang’s men were eager to see the pretty singer show them herself.

A young scribe spoke from his place at the edge of the room. “Would you sing for us, sister? Would you?”

She was nervous, but resolute. As the girl began to sing, Damien took Sari’s hand, holding it as Ava’s strange magic filled the room.

Only it was more.

Immense.

And frighteningly powerful.

She glanced up and saw Malachi’s arms encircling Ava’s waist.

This is bigger than us
. The sudden certainty almost knocked her over.
Bigger than them.

So much bigger than anything we have seen before.

Sari knew in that moment that whatever was coming would change everything.

Ava’s song filled her mind.

Two eagles, circling and attacking each other.

The sky, the sky. Sprayed with a thousand hidden stars.

Concealed behind a blood-red sun, the stars waited in silence, glowing with subtle power.

But the eagles didn’t look up. They kept fighting.

Hot blood sprayed down on Sari’s skin. She could hear it. Feel it.

She heard wolves growling at her feet. Jackals laughing in the bushes.

She was alone, but she wasn’t. All the animals watched as the fierce birds ripped at each other, screaming in rage.

But no one watched the stars.

A plummet to the earth.

A piercing pain in her chest before a voice filled her mind. Enormous and elemental, she knew she was hearing the voice of an angel for the first time in her life. Sari wanted to weep from its frightening beauty. She wanted to beg it to keep speaking. She wanted to cover her ears and hide.

I will tear the threads of heaven to return. And you will help me, Ava.

The world went black, and the next thing Sari felt was Damien patting her cheek.

“
Milá
?”

“I’m fine.” She blinked awake. “What happened?”

“Malachi went a little crazy.”

“You would have too if one of the Fallen talked to me that way.”

He lifted an eyebrow, but he did not disagree. “What did you see?”

“What did
you
see?”

“A vision of two eagles fighting. The Fallen. Jaron and Volund, I think. There is a battle coming between the angels.” His face was grim. “One that we seem to be drawn into, no matter how I’d like to sit back and let them kill each other. It seems I’ll need to retrieve my knife from Mikael’s armory after all.”

“Did you see the stars?”

He frowned.

“The stars behind the sun,” she said. “The stars, Damien. Didn’t you notice them?”

“
Milá
, no.”

How could he not have seen? They had called to her, begging for someone to see them.

The room was still in chaos, everyone shouting to be heard. Rhys’s voice broke through Sari’s internal confusion.

“
That
was different,” he said.

“It was similar to the vision she shared with us at Sarihöfn,” Sari managed to say. “But this one was far more violent and powerful. I would guess that having Malachi back is multiplying her power.”

Lang said, “Two birds… Volund and Jaron?”

Damien said, “I think it’s clear that some war is between them now.”

Much debate over the meaning of the vision followed, but in the end, it was Lang’s decision about whether or not they would track and kill the Grigori in their nest. Break protocol to go after the monsters where they rested.

It was Lang’s decision, and with a cadre of scribes and singers around him, the Watcher of Oslo defied council mandate and asked Sari, Damien, and all their friends to join him in battle.

※

Her mate found her in their room, sharpening her knives and staring out the bedroom window. They were waiting to hear from Maxim and Renata. When they did, they would attack.

“What are you thinking?” he asked.

“We need to go to Vienna,” she said. “I know… I know you have concerns. But this battle—whatever is happening with Ava’s sudden appearance in our world—this is bigger than us.”
The stars were waiting to be seen.
“We need to be there, Damien. We must reform the singers’ council. I know this is what I am being called to do.”

Damien sat on the floor and stretched his legs out beside hers. “I may have been thinking the same thing.”

“But you were arguing with me about going to Vienna only yesterday.”

He shrugged. “You like to argue with me.”

Sari narrowed her eyes and set her knives down. “Were you fighting with me about Vienna just so I’d be more determined to go?”

Damien said nothing, but Sari saw the glint in his eye.

“You scoundrel!” she said, laughing as she tackled him to the floor. “What kind of mate are you?”

He kissed her and rolled over so he had her body pinned down. Sari enjoyed the delicious weight of him as he began to kiss her.

“I’m the best kind of mate for you,” he said, nudging up her chin to bite her neck. “The kind who gives you exactly what you need.”

“Do you know what I need right now?”

“I can guess.”

He settled more firmly on her, and Sari felt the length of him grow hard between their bodies.

“You’re a keen strategist, Damien of Bohemia.”

“My mate is a warrior,” he murmured against her skin. “She expects nothing less.”

CHAPTER TEN

L
ANG
had tried to argue with Sari, but his objections were ridiculous. The singers who stood with the scribes of Oslo and Istanbul in the cold Oslo dawn were as battle-tried as Lang’s men. Sari and Renata. Chelsea, who stood with her mate. Even Orsala had come, the old woman bearing her staff, a silver blade at her waist.

Malachi and Ava had slipped off down an alleyway while the others were debating. For what, Damien did not know. But he trusted his brother. Malachi would not have left without reason.

Damien counted heads and didn’t like the numbers. Seven Oslo scribes had come, leaving five back at the house to guard the Sarihöfn Irina still sheltering there. Four of his own men, along with himself and four trained Irina. Sixteen warriors against what Maxim and Renata thought were around sixty Grigori crammed into a four-story apartment building. At least they had the advantage of surprise.

“If we spread throughout the house and attack en masse,” Sari was saying, “then they will not have time to react.”

“There are four stories,” Max said. “Six rooms on each floor if the buildings nearby are similar.”

“That’s twenty-four rooms and sixteen of us,” Rhys said. “Where’s Malachi and Ava?”

“Don’t worry about them,” Damien said. “I don’t want any of us fighting alone.”

“Then we partner up,” Lang said. “Four people—two sets of partners—on each floor, working in tandem. We lose some element of surprise, but we watch each other’s backs. Work as silently as you can for as long as you can. We’ll be detected at some point, but let’s kill as many in their beds as we are able.” He directed his words to his men. “Do
not
wait for them to attack. I know we are going against mandate in this mission, so I am giving you the order.
Strike first.
Kill them quickly. Kill them as they sleep if you can.”

Lang’s men nodded, and not a single one looked troubled by their rebellious commander.

“They’re sleeping now,” Damien said. “If you want to go, we should go.”

They silently paired up. Mated pairs together. Renata and Maxim stayed close. Orsala quickly joined one of the younger scribes and walked forward with Damien and Sari.

“We’ll take the bottom floor,” Damien said quietly. “Clear it and move up. Orsala, can you and…” Damien frowned when he saw Orsala’s companion. “What’s your name?”

“Andrew, sir.”

The boy looked so eager Damien wondered if he’d ever seen battle. But Orsala had chosen him, and Damien trusted her judgment.

“Orsala, can you and Andrew guard the door? Make sure none leave the house?”

She nodded.

“If there are humans and they try to escape, I’m depending on you two to contain them.”

He could have used her more in the battle, but the old singer’s magic would be the most effective near the door.

Sari said, “By the time we move up, we’ll have lost the element of surprise.”

“Then it’s a good thing you like to fight.” He glanced down. “You brought your staff.”

“And my blade.” She smiled. “Why limit my options?”

He’d forgotten how much he loved fighting at her side.

The group was small but moved swiftly. As they approached the house, he saw all the Irin males touching their wrists to activate their
talesm
as they whispered prayers before battle. The Irina pulled out black scarves and twisted them around their necks.

“Kevlar lined,” Sari said. “Standard issue for all singers now.”

To protect their voices and their magic.

“I do love technology sometimes.”

“So do we.”

Damien felt his magic ripple over him. He leaned over and pressed a flash of a kiss to his mate’s mouth. Their power touched and sparked before he pulled away, smiling.

Maxim bent and picked the lock, then he and Renata slid into the building silently. Lang motioned for two of his men to follow. Pair by pair, the Irin force entered the house and spread out. Damien, Sari, Orsala, and Andrew were the last to enter.

The common room on the ground floor was littered with beer and liquor bottles, which acted like small booby traps as they picked their way through the detritus. Andrew and Orsala went right. Damien and Sari to the left. The smell of sandalwood, marijuana smoke, and sex filled the air. The Grigori of Oslo had been to the party and come home to enjoy their ill-earned rest.

Sari cracked open the first door. Two beds had been crammed in the room. Two sleeping Grigori soldiers lay on one, the other was occupied by a single man. Still another stretched on the floor. All blond and beautiful. All wearing the distinctive glow of angel blood in their skin. In sleep, they were beautiful creatures. When they woke, their soul-hunger would kill.

It went against Damien’s every instinct to kill an opponent in his sleep, even monsters. The Grigori were predators, and his people were outnumbered. Killing them in stealth made the most tactical sense. And yet…

He looked down when Sari squeezed his hand.

I know,
her eyes seemed to say.

I love you,
he mouthed.

“
Ya domem,
” Sari whispered to the man on the floor as Damien slapped a hand over the lone sleeper’s mouth. In sync, they turned and stabbed the Grigori in the back of their necks, silver knives striking like lightning. Within seconds, two were dead, leaving only the pair on the bed.

Damien held a finger to his lips, but it was only out of habit. Sari was as silent as the grave. Damien took the first with one quick plunge of the knife as he lay sleeping on his belly. Sari whispered her paralyzing spell again, freezing the man before she flipped him over and killed him. Damien didn’t even think he woke.

“I really wish that spell worked for me,” he said.

“It’s very useful.”

They moved to the next room. There were three Grigori there, and they dispatched them just as neatly. They were walking to the third room when Sari’s eyes flew to his. She looked up a second before Damien heard it.

A muffled yell.

Eyes flew open. Voices rose.

“Irin!” one of the Grigori hissed. “Brothers!”

Sari’s staff flew out, knocking the rising men back to the bed as Damien’s knife went to work.

※

Well, that had almost gone according to plan, Sari thought.

As she tossed the groggy men around the room, Damien tackled them and pinned them to the ground, killing each one before they could reach for weapons.

And there were weapons. A veritable armory of illegal firearms and knives were stored in the corner of each room. If these were Volund’s men, he was not skimping on their supplies. Some plan was definitely in the works. Sari only hoped their actions that morning would foil it.

“Sari!” Orsala called from the hall. “The ground floor is clear on our side.”

“Go to the door,” she called. “Guard it while we go upstairs.”