The Scribe (25 page)

“Not. Leaving. You,” he muttered between biting kisses, backing her toward a gathering of low couches and pillows in one corner.

“Okay.” She could barely keep up, overwhelmed by his fierce possession. She held on to his neck, her teeth nipping at the softer skin there as she tore at the buttons on his shirt until he lifted it and pulled it off with an irritated scowl, as if the fabric itself was offensive. He carefully took off the twin daggers strapped to his torso, then he glared at her own clothes and knelt to strip them off.

“Do you understand me?” He pulled off her skirt, her blouse, finally slowing when he reached the fevered flesh beneath. Malachi bent down to the low couch, kneeling before her and pressing his face to the soft skin of her abdomen, his arms wrapping around her hips. Her whole body shuddered in awareness of the power at her feet. “I will not abandon you. I will not leave you. Ever.”

She wanted to believe him. Wanted to be worthy of the devotion he offered. She reached a tentative hand out and brushed at the hair falling over his forehead, her pale fingers threading through the thick locks that teased her skin. His breath was hot against her belly when she tilted his chin up to meet her eyes. She traced the tip of one finger around the sculpted beauty of his mouth before she pressed it between his lips, and his tongue darted out to taste her.

“Show me.”

Hours later, Ava decided the fight had been worth it. Lying against Malachi’s chest in the lone extravagance of the house, the marble-clad bathroom, she looked over his shoulder.

“I think I like fighting with you.”

He pinched her ass under the water.

“Hey!”

“I do
not
like fighting with you. Don’t start fights.”

“Some fights are going to happen.”

He closed his eyes and shrugged, the water lapping against his chest. “Don’t start unnecessary fights.”

After a few silent minutes, she said, “I know you don’t see humans as inferior.”

“So what were you really worried about? The Grigori?”

She knew she should be. The shadowed hunters were still stalking her, as far as anyone would tell her. Damien, Leo, and Maxim were still tracking them in Istanbul. Rhys said Dr. Sadik was still suspicious and out of contact. They would have to return to the city at some point, and she really had no idea what she’d be walking into.

“Hmm?” He touched her face, tilting it toward him.

“I’m worried… about lots of things.”

“The Grigori?”

“Yes.”

“Dr. Sadik?”

“Yes.”

He paused for a moment. “Me?”

“I can’t help it,” she said, her shoulders stiff. “Nothing is this… There’s a reason I’ve been alone my whole life, Malachi.”

He lifted his hands to her shoulders and Ava knew he was letting his magic soothe her. She’d only suspected it before, but there was a tingling kind of hum that she felt when he used magic.

“Don’t use—”

“Shhh.” His head dipped down and his lips teased behind her ear. “Just to relax your muscles. I won’t touch your emotions, canım. Just let me help you.”

Giving in, she leaned back and felt his arousal pressed against her, but he continued massaging her shoulders and arms. Her neck. The base of her skull.

“You’re really good at that.” He grabbed a silk washcloth from the side of the bath and rubbed some soap on it. The smell of orange blossom and fig filled the steaming room. “The bathroom here is amazing.”

Though the house may have been modest, the bath was not. Clad floor to ceiling in grey marble, it was a picture of indulgence. A deep soaking tub filled one corner, and a rain-shower was in the other. There were steam vents and heated floors. Fragrant soaps and oils to condition the skin. Ava decided she might not ever leave as long as Malachi would keep her company.

“We Turks like our baths,” he said as he brought the soap to her skin, the bubbles coating her shoulders before he began massaging her again.

“I can tell.”

“And for Irin, too, touch is very important. Especially between… lovers.”

Reshon
. The word whispered in his mind.

Ava cleared her throat and said, “That makes sense.”

“We’re a very affectionate people,” he said, lifting one arm and repeating the massage. Soap. Slick skin. Deep, soothing strokes. He brought her arm up to lie over his shoulder, and she twisted her fingers in his hair as he covered her with the rich scent. “When we are young, we are coddled. Children are so rare, they are fussed over. I was cuddled and played with constantly as a child. I could barely get any time alone.” His voice held no resentment, only a hint of laughter.

“I spent most of my time alone,” she whispered, her eyes half-closed. “I liked it that way.”

“Did you like it?” he asked, washing and massaging her other arm. “Or were you simply accustomed to it? Was it easier without the voices?”

Both her arms stretched around his neck, baring her body to him as Malachi moved on from her arms to brush the silken cloth over the rise of her breasts.

Her voice hitched. “It was easier. I didn’t have to concentrate on blocking the voices when I was alone. It was peaceful.”

“Are you peaceful now?” he whispered, the cloth ducking lower, stroking over her breasts, circling her navel, until her body was trembling.

“Malachi—”

“Relax,” he murmured, leaving the cloth and using his hands to stroke over her flesh. Slowly, deliberately teasing her. His tattooed arm slid under the water and toward the lush heat of her. His fingers dipped to the juncture of her thighs, feathering touch along the crease before he dipped into her slick heat. Her body soft with pleasure, she arched back and felt his lips tracing down her neck.

“I love touching you, Ava.” His breath whispered across her neck. “You were meant to be touched and kissed. To feel pleasure.”

She felt it rising. His fingers moved deliberately, his other hand on her breast as he played Ava’s body, and her sighs echoed off the marble walls.

“You…” She gasped, looking down to see his black-scribed arms cradling her, one hand teasing her breasts as the other disappeared into the water, driving her slowly mad. “Come in me. I want you…”

“I love watching you.” He turned her head, swallowing her cries of pleasure in a kiss as she came against his hand. Her skin was alive. She felt him behind her, the hair on his chest brushing against her back, his legs cradling her. Every sense was alive. Every instinct pulled her toward him.

Reshon
.

The voice hadn’t come from Malachi. The word whispered through her own mind as he kissed her over and over, his arms banded around her, dark ink against pale skin. She could see the faint silver glow as his
talesm
reacted to her.

Reshon
.

He slowly worked her down, her pulse calming under his hands. There were tears in her eyes when they slipped closed.

“Sleep, Ava,” he whispered as she laid her cheek against his shoulder. “I will hold you.”

The next week passed in relative peace. Malachi continued with his dogged patience, diffusing the fights Ava seemed unable to stop instigating, even when she tried. Try as she might, she couldn’t seem to combat his steady affection. She snapped; he joked. She sneered; he smiled. It was maddening.

It was wonderful.

And with each small conflict, each new resolution, Ava felt a growing current of devotion and loyalty. Their chemistry was undeniable, but every time she turned from him and Malachi pulled her back with a simple hug or teasing kiss, a little bit of her walls crumbled, rolling toward a growing foundation of something she could barely acknowledge.

Love.

She was falling in love with him.

They were sitting across from each other, sipping two beers at a café as Malachi watched one of the cruise ships with amusement.

“There are so many of them.” He played with her fingers as he stared at the massive cruise ship that had just docked, travelers pouring off like ants. “How do they even see the country with so many—”

“I’m falling in love with you.”

He stopped speaking immediately, a smile teasing the corners of his mouth. “Hmm.”

Ava narrowed her eyes. “Hmm? I say I think I’m falling in love with you and all you say is ‘Hmm’?”

Grabbing her hand and holding on when she tried to pull it away, he said, “What did you want me to say?”

Her mouth dropped open. “I… Maybe that you… You know what? Never mind. I changed my mind.”

“So you’re not in love with me?”

“I never said I was!”

“Exactly.” He winked and pulled her hand to his lips, kissing each finger deliberately. “If you had…”

“If I had?” She knew she was holding her breath, but she didn’t know why.

Malachi leaned closer. “How do you think I feel about you?”

How did he feel about her? She didn’t even need to ask, really. She knew without asking that he loved her. It was in every kiss. Every embrace. Every teasing comment. Every patient smile. His dogged affection had worn her down. In that moment, her heart tumbled, and she could feel the flush on her skin.

“I think…” Her eyes were drawn to a man who had just walked around the corner. “Grigori.”

He frowned. “You think Grigori?”

She clutched his hand. “Grigori. There’s a Grigori coming up the sidewalk. He’s—”

“Another one just came in the back. He’s by the bar.”

Grabbing his wallet and throwing a fifty-lira note on the table, Malachi rose. “Walk calmly.”

“He’s already looking at me.” Her heart raced. “Malachi, he’s already—”

“This one spotted us, too. They’re not here hunting. They’re here for us.”

They walked toward the sidewalk, nodding at the host who looked at them in confusion. Malachi muttered something in Turkish as they passed and the man nodded. He kept his hand on the small of Ava’s back, walking quickly in the other direction. Ava chanced a look over her shoulder. Both Grigori were following them. Another melted into the foot traffic as they passed another café.

“There’s three. Three of them are behind us.”

“I’m leading them away from the humans.”

“Should I—?”

“Stay with me. Keep yourself behind me when we get there.”

“Get where?”

They were speed-walking up the hill until Malachi ducked into a side street. Houses rose on either side, the street dead-ending into a hill covered by pink oleander and trash. Ava tripped over a scattering of cans that littered the ground as Malachi leaned down for a quick kiss, his eyes gleaming.

“I love you. Of course I love you. Now stay behind me while I take care of these nuisances.”

He turned his back to her and drew two silver daggers from the sheaths against his skin just as six Grigori soldiers turned the corner.

Chapter Fifteen

Six? Where had the other three come from?

No matter, Malachi grinned in anticipation. Playing lovers’ games for the past week had been more than satisfying, but the hunter in him craved this fight. He paced across the alleyway, letting the Grigori come closer. Let them grow more confident. It would make them more fun to kill. The one in front could have been his brother, so alike were they in height and physique. But the soldier didn’t have what Malachi had—years of experience and the strength of his
reshon
flowing through his body.

Malachi faked to the right, more pleased than irritated when the Grigori wasn’t fooled. Their eyes met for a brief moment before the soldier’s eyes flicked to Ava standing behind him. He heard Ava let out a small sound of panic.

Enough. He’d forgotten she would be frightened.

Crossing his arms and brushing both hands along his tattoos, Malachi felt the preternatural strength flood his body. His eyes grew stronger in the early evening gloom. His hearing more acute. He could track the soldiers’ movements almost as if the men were moving in slow motion. And he could hear the two soldiers the Grigori had stationed at the mouth of the alley to warn away any passersby. Ava’s pulse hammered behind him. The rush of blood filled his ears.

By the time Malachi pulled his knife, he’d already darted to the left, pulling one soldier by his arm, spinning him around and plunging the silver knife into the base of his skull. He shoved the body away as it began to disintegrate, only to grab another, his movements so fast he saw Grigori eyes blur.

Spinning around, he caught one with a swift kick to the jaw, sending him to the ground as he knifed the second Grigori in the neck. He could feel the gold, sand-like dust coat his hands before the wind lifted it, shielding him from the view of the fallen soldier’s compatriots. Through it all, his senses were tuned to Ava, who continued to stay directly behind him, not cowering in a corner, but shadowing him, keeping Malachi between her and the monsters.

Clever girl.

The Grigori in front came toward him, ignoring the scrambling of the other soldiers. The man’s eyes flicked to Ava again, and he moved as if to approach her, drawing Malachi’s attention from the soldier he’d been about to knife. He sliced at the man’s neck and threw him to the ground, only to have the Grigori’s foot whip toward him unexpectedly.