The Secret (21 page)

“Grandmother?” she said. “
Ava
.”

Their eyes connected.

Jaron’s daughter held a trembling finger over blood-red lips. “Shhhh.”

Ava listened, but the only thing she heard was a twisted cacophony of pain.

Her grandmother stared at her, gold eyes transfixed on Ava’s face.

“It’s a secret,” she whispered. “Like me. You can’t tell a secret.”

“You can tell me.”

The tormented woman tore at the shining hair that fell over her face and shook her head. “Demons play tricks,” she muttered. “Don’t. Can’t hide. Not even in my mind.” A haunting singsong voice. “My mind, my mind.” A bitter laugh. “If I lose myself, not even he can find me. Hide in the woods—don’t dream! Don’t sleep. He can’t see the visions I keep.” A high, keening laugh. “
Bâbâ…
”

“I’m here, Ava.” But Jaron stayed in place, as if touching his child might hurt her. A low hum filled the air, and Ava’s grandmother rocked back and forth, hitting her head against the wall.

Ava moved closer.
 

Malachi said, “
Canım
, be careful.”

“She’s hurting herself.”

The woman stopped rocking. Her eyes rose to Ava’s.

She stared at her, and for a brief moment, Ava knew her grandmother was completely sane.

“Be careful,” she said, her voice low and calm. “I cannot force him out. Do you understand?”

“I have your blood,” Ava said. “Don’t tell me.
Show
me.”

Ava caught the dark flicker in her grandmother’s eyes a moment before her vision went black. Her body froze and her muscles locked as her mind raced through the vision Ava sent her.

A lively street market in Beirut. A boy with seductive eyes.
 

Temptation.

“Just for the night. My father…”

Ropes. He had tied her. Why had he—?

Bâbâ!

Gone.

Where were her brothers? They were gone. Her father…

Why couldn’t she feel her father? She could always feel her father.

“Let me see her.”

A darker, deeper power hovered over her, blocking her from the light.

“Beautiful child…”

Such darkness.

Anger.

Pain.

“Mine.”

NO!

It ripped through her. The tearing of innocence and hope and light and nothing—

Nothing would be light again.
 

He was in her.

In her body. Her mind.
 

The darkness trampled over the flowers of her soul and crushed them with his power and everything…

“Everything is dark.”

“Ava.”

No.

Violation was only the beginning.

“Ava.”

Her dreams a torment. She ran but could not escape.

“Ava.”

Hissing laughter bruised her mind.

The dark angel had marked her.

His laugher twisted as he called her
mate
.

He came again when she closed her eyes. Every night. Every day. Even when her body was taken back to her brothers, he was there. When the child was born, he was there.
 

His power lived in the child who bore the face of her nightmare.

Love and hate and light and darkness.

“You’ll hurt him, Ava.”

Take him away…

“Ava.”

There was no escape.

Ava rocked back, gasping. Hoarse cries broke from her throat. She could feel Malachi’s arms around her, holding her steady as she trembled.

“Ava!”

The sound of her name only made her sob.

“Oh God!” She clung to Malachi. “It can’t… she can’t…”

Jaron pulled his daughter’s shaking body into his arms. Her eyes were closed again, her mind shut down to anything but her sire’s touch. And Ava knew from looking into her grandmother’s mind that Jaron’s presence was the only thing that gave her any kind of peace.
 

Because her dreams were nightmares she couldn’t escape.

“Ava, what was that?” Malachi held her tightly, his arms almost crushing her ribs. “I couldn’t see. You have to tell me.”

“Mate,” she whispered. A connection so deep and profound that had been utterly twisted by pure evil. “Volund didn’t just attack her, Malachi. He took her. He wanted to know… He raped her. And he
marked
her.”

His hands froze. “No.”

“He wanted to know if it was possible for an angel to mate with one of the
kareshta
. He was curious. So he marked her with his power and bound her to him.” Ava choked. “He’s in her dreams, Malachi.”

“She dream-walks with the Fallen who raped her?” he whispered.

“She can’t escape. He’s there every time she closes her eyes.”

There was dread in Malachi’s voice when he asked, “Your father?”

“He’s Volund’s child. She tried, but she couldn’t bear it. Jasper looks like Volund did when he took her.”

The room had grown deathly quiet. Ava could only watch her grandmother, a woman locked in the torment of her own mind. She had sensed the darkness there as well. Volund’s touch had marked her in more ways than one. There was violence and a burgeoning rage belied by the woman’s still form. Jaron, she knew, could sense it. His eyes met hers as he held his child. He bent down to whisper something in her ear and Ava relaxed completely.

“She needs sleep,” Jaron said. “She only truly rests when I am here.”

“Why can’t you help her?” Ava asked. “Heal her? Keep Volund from torturing her every time she closes her eyes!”

“I do not know how.” He took a deep breath. “In thousands of years, no angel has violated his brothers’ children the way that Volund did mine. She has even begged Death to come for her, but Azril will not. I do not know why.”

“Why didn’t Volund kill her?” Malachi said. “After he’d attacked her, why didn’t he—”

“Whether he likes it or not, Ava
is
his mate. When Volund bound himself to my daughter, he didn’t realize it would affect him too,” Jaron said. “Perhaps it is her only power now, but she became his curse. He would kill her if he could do it without harming himself. But he cannot.”
 

“You hate my father.” Her instincts were screaming at her. “Because he’s Volund’s son.”

“Yes.”

“But you protect him.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“He’s her son as well. She did not hate him. And… he has my blood.”

“What is my father? Half Grigori. Half angel. How can he even exist?”

“How do any of our children exist?” Jaron asked. “They are the will of the Creator. Though if my master has a purpose for your father, I have not discovered it yet. Perhaps Jasper’s only purpose was fathering you.”

Ava tried to wrap her mind around it. “And Volund? Would he hurt my dad?”

“At first, Volund was interested in your father. I had to hide them both. He thought the child of an angel and a
kareshta
would be even greater than the Irin. But the child was far too unstable. He had power, but no control. More damning, Jasper has free will. I cannot control him, just like I cannot control you. Volund lost interest when he found out he could not control Ava’s child.”

“But he knows who I am.”

“He learned when you came to Istanbul. He was watching me and found you. When you attacked his men in the cistern—”

“All I did was scream.”

Jaron gave her a look that made Ava feel like an ignorant child.
 

“You unleashed power the Grigori had never experienced before,” he said. “Our children live in fear of their sisters, because their voices hold power the Grigori don’t understand. Volund’s sons didn’t know what you were. Your magic was dark like the children of the Fallen, but you were in the company of Irin scribes and they treated you as one of their own.”

“So?”

“You attracted his attention, Ava. It was easy enough for him to discover the connection when he started to look. You have his blood, after all.”

She shivered, and Malachi’s hands soothed the goose bumps from her skin. “That’s why he wants me.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“I honestly don’t know. Nor do I care. He has become erratic.” Jaron stroked Ava’s temple. “Perhaps she torments him in his sleep as well. I can hope, but it does not matter. He cannot have you. Volund has taken enough of what is mine.”

Malachi broke in. “Unbelievable. This is like two dogs fighting over a bone. Ava doesn’t belong to either of you.”

“Why?” Jaron asked. “Because she belongs to you?”

“She belongs to herself!”

“Enough.” Ava stood and started pacing. “You can find me anywhere because I have your blood, can’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Can Volund? He’s disgusting, but I am his granddaughter.”

Jaron hesitated. “Unless I’m shielding you and you’re shielding yourself, Volund can find you. The Irina magic you learned has helped immeasurably.”

“That’s why he couldn’t find me in Norway.”

Jaron nodded. “Your magic and mine, combined with the old singer’s, made the haven the safest place for you.”

“Until I left.”
 

“The minute his Grigori spotted you, Sarihöfn became useless. I was the one who violated the wards there. You needed to leave.”

She shook her head. “You’ve been playing me all along. And Malachi?”

Jaron waved a careless hand. “I owe your Irin mate no protection. He is not mine.”

“Do you know how—”

“I have no idea how you were able to call him back. It was unexpected. But your blood holds the power of two archangels, and through your bond with this scribe, you were given the power of Mikhael’s line as well.” Jaron stared at her. “You
are
utterly unique, Ava. There are thousands of him, and only one of you. I do not care about him, but as long as his purpose helps mine, we are in accord.”

Malachi said, “I would say the same of you, Fallen.”

“Then we understand each other.”
 

Ava rested against a flower-covered wall. “What
is
your purpose? What are you after?”

Jaron said nothing.

“I know,” Malachi said, leaning against the bed, his arms crossed over his knees. “He wants to kill Volund.”

“Yes,” Jaron said.
 

“And he needs our help.”
 

The angel’s face was blank.

Ava asked, “Why should we help you?”

“Volund masterminded the Rending,” Jaron said.

A vein pulsed in Malachi’s forehead. “And you had nothing to do with it?”

Jaron smoothed the hair back from his daughter’s face. “I didn’t stop it, but I refused to use my sons to participate. I knew the Irin would kill many of our children, even in a surprise attack. Volund and his allies didn’t agree. I suspect they had some deal with whatever Councilors had power at the time, though I hardly think the Irin knew the extent of his plans.”

“You lie.”

“Do I?” Jaron asked. “Are your elder scribes so incorruptible, son of Mikhael? Are they not hungry for power?”

“We are not Fallen,” Malachi said.

Jaron only smiled.

“You didn’t participate in the Rending,” Ava said. “But you found me. You were looking for Fallen daughters in the human world. Why?”

“After the Rending, I began to see a way I could use the loss of the Irina to usurp Volund’s power,” Jaron said. “He had grown
very
powerful.”

Malachi said, “It wasn’t revenge for your daughter?”

“I didn’t have a daughter then. I simply saw the females as an asset.”

“How?”

“The Irin had lost most of their women. The Fallen had women it didn’t want, some of whom still clung to their fathers out of loyalty. How better to gain power over our only adversaries in this world than by giving them the females they so desperately wanted? Females we could track. That we had influence over.”

Ava’s stomach turned. “You were going to use them like cattle. Pawns for your political games.”

“Yes.” Jaron’s expression was unapologetic. “I was well on the way to putting my plan in place—ferreting out the Grigora who had filtered into the human world—when my daughter was born.”

“Did you change your mind about using them?”

Jaron blinked. “No. I had no plans to use
my
daughter. She was to be protected.”

Ava shook her head. Typical.

“What about me?” she asked. “Did you plan to use me when I came to see you in Istanbul?”