Текст книги "The Singer"

Автор книги: Elizabeth Hunter

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Текущая страница: 16 (всего у книги 20 страниц)

Chapter Twenty

As much as Ava enjoyed seeing Brooke at the scribe house in Oslo, she was anxious to get away. It only made her decision to go back to the human world that much harder. She didn’t want to witness the easy camaraderie of the Oslo scribes, which reminded her so much of Istanbul. She didn’t want to recognize the open adoration the men showered on Brooke and her mother—whom Ava had finally discovered was named Candace. They delighted in every childish story the girl told and answered any question Candace put to them. The older scribes were obviously more accustomed to Irina—one of the men was mated to Chelsea, who had been at Sarihöfn—but they doted on the women no less because of it.

They were exhausted from patrolling but still had time to cook breakfast for all of them and make them welcome in the large old house in the middle of Oslo. They welcomed Orsala with wonder, clearly honored to have the elder Irina in their home. They greeted Damien and Sari with respect. One young-looking scribe clearly had to hold himself back from openly embracing Ava when she walked through the door.

“They’ve come back,” she heard him whisper to his brother. He didn’t even try to hide the tears in his eyes. “Do you think… they’ve really come back?”

Ava tried to ignore it all. She hid in the small room they’d given her, ignoring their kind eyes and welcoming voices. She tried to sleep but couldn’t, even though she was exhausted. When she finally dozed off midmorning, she woke to see a familiar figure sitting near the foot of the bed.

“Rhys? What are you doing here?”

“No one had seen you for hours,” Rhys said quietly. A bashful smile was on his lips. “I’m sorry to intrude. It’s just… very good to see you, Ava.”

“What are you doing in Oslo?” Her voice was hoarse, and she reached for the bottle of water near the bed.

“Max called us. He’s in the city.”

“You left Turkey?”

He nodded. “Things happened. We needed to go to Vienna. I went to the archives there. Tried to find out more about your family. I… uh, I did find out a bit more, but where you come from is still a mystery.”

“It’s not important.” Not anymore.

He just nodded. “I met Orsala. She says you’re doing very well with your lessons. Says you’re going to be very powerful. A daughter of Leoc? That’s wonderful, Ava. Such a gift.”

“She’s a good teacher.” What would she do about living in the human world again? Would she continue to have visions? Would the spells Orsala had taught her continue to shield her? If so, she could live a far more normal life than she had before. Sure, she wouldn’t be in physical contact with the Irin again, and her anxiety would probably skyrocket, but she could deal. She’d dealt before. The drugs were improving all the time.

Awkward silence descended. Part of her was ecstatic to see Rhys again. Even with the friends she’d made at Sarihöfn, she’d still felt different. Set apart. She wondered if part of her would always think of Istanbul as home, simply because he’d been there.

But the other part of her—the pragmatic one—didn’t want to see any of Malachi’s brothers. Especially Rhys. She didn’t want to remember his grief or hers. Didn’t want to remember his friendship. After she left for London tomorrow morning, she wouldn’t see him again.

A clean break from everyone was better. She just hoped she could get to the airport without Damien finding out.

Rhys was still staring at her. “How have you been?”

She nodded. “Fine. Good.”

“You’re being very…”

“What?” She rubbed her eyes.

“I don’t know.” He smiled. “Sorry. It’s been so long since I’ve seen you.”

“Only a few weeks, really.”

Was it only a few weeks? Her days and nights had run together in one long ribbon of confusion, revelation, and grief.

“I suppose it only seems longer. We missed you very much.”

“Max and Leo are here, too?”

He nodded. “Max keeps a flat here in the city. Which no one knew about. Get him out of Istanbul and he’s quite the man of mystery. I suppose we know part of where he goes when he leaves town. We just assumed it was Monte Carlo or Las Vegas.”

She smiled. Somehow, it wasn’t all that surprising. “And Leo?”

He hesitated. “Out patrolling right now. Helping the scribes here. There’s been an unexpected influx of Grigori and no one knows why.”

Ava’s eyes narrowed, and she opened her mind to listen to his inner voice. Rhys was lying. But why? What was Leo actually doing, if not patrolling?

“Good of him to help out. I heard about the Grigori. I mean, we didn’t get all that much news in Sarihöfn, but once we got here, everyone was buzzing.”

He didn’t say anything, just continued watching her with those solemn green eyes.

“What’s going on, Ava?”

How could he even tell?

“Nothing. I’m fine.”

“You’re different. Something is different.”

“I’m tired, Rhys. It’s been a crowded few months. Everything in Turkey… and now I’ve had to run from the one place everyone told me I was totally safe. I’m… tired.”

She was tired. No, more. She was weary. Weary of running. Weary of struggling through a world she didn’t know anymore. Weary of having tasted happiness only to have it violently yanked away.

“Don’t give up on us yet, Ava.” His voice was so soft, his words so poignant, it was almost as if he could read her mind. “There are things you haven’t seen yet.”

“Rhys, I…” She felt her throat closing up, and her eyes started to tear.

Why was he still there? Why couldn’t they all just leave her alone? Didn’t they understand she didn’t want to be protected anymore? The grief was too much. The pain was exhausting. Her whole life… “I’m just really, really tired, Rhys. Can you let me sleep?”

“Sweet dreams, Ava?”

She blinked away the tears and looked up in shock. “What?”

He cleared his throat. “Have you been having good dreams? No nightmares, I hope.”

“They’re fine.” Or they had been until she’d forced herself to remember she couldn’t live in a dream world anymore. “I don’t remember my dreams much, to be honest. Never have.”

Rhys’s eyes narrowed. “You’re lying. About having good dreams or about remembering them, Ava? Hmm?”

“Why are you still here?” Anger spiked through her sadness. “You can leave now.”

“Fine.” He stood, his eyes never leaving hers. “Get dressed. Get washed up. I’ll meet you downstairs. We have someplace to go.”

“I don’t want to go anywhere with you.”

He rolled his eyes before he turned. When he got to the door, Rhys called over his shoulder. “Don’t create a scene, darling. Wouldn’t you rather keep a low profile before you try to sneak off?”

Bastard scribe. He always saw too much.

Ava decided to act like the interlude in her bedroom hadn’t even happened when she finally made her way downstairs. Rhys was at the counter, speaking with Orsala. It sounded like they were debating the interpretation of some story or myth.

“But the St. Petersburg manuscript—”

“Manuscripts?” Orsala said. “Manuscripts are always influenced by the scribe. There is no avoiding it. What you must look for is the common thread running through all the historical accounts. That is where the truth lies.”

Rhys shook his head. “I… I can’t believe you’re discounting the oldest known account of Deandra’s vision. Carbon dating has placed that manuscript within a hundred years of her life. No other existing document comes close.”

“But that is only one document. You must look at more than just the documents, Rhys. You must—”

“This sounds like an argument that can’t be won,” Ava said with a false smile. “Hey, Orsala. I see you met Rhys.”

She smiled until her eyes creased. “Such fun to debate with a knowledgeable partner. I met Rhys’s mother many years ago. She would be proud of his good mind.”

Ava saw the blush at Rhys’s neck, but she ignored it and said, “I heard we have some place to go?”

He nodded and finished the cup of coffee in front of him. “Sari and Damien are over at Max’s house. During the day, the Grigori activity seems to be slow. I thought we’d head over for lunch.”

“Sure. Why not? Orsala, you want to come?”

“I have something to speak to Lang about when he wakes, then I believe I will spend some time with Brooke and Candace.” She smiled and patted Rhys’s shoulder. “Conversation with the young is a joy to the old.”

“Okay.” She nodded toward the door. “I’m ready when you are.”

He stood and grabbed a jacket that was lying over the back of a chair. They walked to the door and Rhys grabbed her hand, bending down to speak quietly in her ear.

“I’m sorry about before. In your room. Your dreams are none of my business, Ava.”

She didn’t want to think about her dreams. Or his apology. “It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not. We all grieve in our own way. I just hope… I hope you’ll be better soon.”

“I’ll be fine.”

Rhys smiled, and there was a knowing gleam in his eye. “I think you’ll be more than fine.”

She opened the door and walked out into the glowing white of the street. It was cold—according to Orsala—even for Oslo. It usually didn’t reach the lowest temperatures until later in the winter.

“Just lucky for me, I guess,” she muttered to herself.

“What?” Rhys closed the door, testing to make sure it was locked.

“Nothing.” She heard the complicated alarm system Lang had tried to explain to her beep in their wake before she and Rhys started walking.

“Do you have a car?”

“It’s at Max’s. They dropped me off earlier. We can catch a taxi up the street. It’s not far.”

They walked in silence, the air frosting their breath as Ava tucked her scarf closer around her neck. Something itched under her skin. She’d noticed it that morning in the shower. It was almost as if she could feel her mating marks moving. The skin along her spine and neck crawled with energy. It wasn’t painful, just an awareness of the marks he had left on her. The marks that would never go away. She wondered if she would feel them less and less as the years went by. Maybe, if she wasn’t around other Irin, she wouldn’t notice them as much.

Rhys walked in silence. Suspicious, she opened her mind. His inner voice was a confused jumble, but she could pick out a few words. Her knowledge of the Old Language was growing.

Stop.

Pain.

Malachi.

Mate.

Malachi.

Malachi.

Malachi.

Her soul welled in grief at the sound of his name. Rhys’s thoughts circled until she locked down her mind with a few whispered words.

“What?” He looked down.

“Sorry. You were… loud.”

He blinked at her, startled. “And you used a spell to shut me out. You can understand my thoughts now?”

“Not much. Just… It’s never the way people think, you know? Now that I can understand bits of the Old Language, I realize people don’t think in complete sentences. Or their souls don’t, I guess. It’s more like… impressions. A word here or there. A phrase. It’s more emotion than distinct thoughts.”

“Oh.” He turned at the corner and headed toward a taxi stand. It was the middle of the week and traffic was light, but it still took a few minutes for a car to show up. They slid in the back and Ava rubbed her hands together, happy to be in the heat again.

Rhys leaned forward. “Pardon me. English?”

“Of course.”

He gave the driver an address, then sat back and looked at her. Then he looked away and stared out the window.

“I know you’re worried about me, Rhys.”

“You have no idea.”

“I’m fine. Really. This is normal, right?” She tried to explain it in a way that would leave him unconcerned about her future. “Like you said, we all grieve in different ways. This is a step. It’s hard for me to be around you, because you remind me of… Malachi.” She forced herself to use his name. “That will pass in time. God knows, I’m not the only woman in the world to lose a partner. I’ll be fine.”

She was surprised when he grabbed her hand.

“Just… wait,” he said. “Don’t shut down on me. Don’t draw away.”

The intensity of his voice rocked her. What was going on? Did Rhys have feelings for her? There had been a flirtation at the beginning, but she could have sworn they were past it.

“Rhys, you know I only think of you as a friend, right?”

He shook his head. “It’s not that. I mean, yes, of course I know—”

“I’m not even thinking of anyone that way right now. I can’t.” Her concern for him broke through her resolve. The last thing she needed was to break a friend’s heart before she cut him—all of them—out of her life. “And I don’t want you to think—”

“Ava!” He pressed his lips together when he saw the driver looking back at them suspiciously. “I’m not talking about my feelings for you. Which are only of friendship, of course. I’m talking about—”

“Then what’s all the talk about me shutting down and drawing away?”

“I just…” He almost looked as if he was in pain. “There are some things… some mysteries—”

“Here!” The car jerked to a halt in front of a large, modern apartment building. The driver looked at Ava. “Are you getting out with him, miss? Or can I take you to another address?”

Ava smiled at his concern. “I’m fine here. Thank you.”

Rhys paid the driver and slid silently from the car, holding out a hand to help her on the icy sidewalk. As the taxi pulled away, he put both hands on her shoulders and dipped his head down to meet her eyes.

“There are some magics—some destinies—we can only guess at. As much as I study, as much as I revere science and strive to be a rational scholar, I can never forget this. We are”—he let out a rueful laugh—“descended from angels, Ava. There are some mysteries only heaven knows. Remember that.”

She frowned. “I know.”

“Remember that.”

“Will you just tell me what the hell is going on, Rhys? I’m starting to worry.”

He grabbed her hand and pulled her into the lobby. “Welcome to my world for the past few weeks.”

As soon as Ava walked through the door, her senses were assaulted. There was something seriously… other about Max’s place. She ignored Sari and Renata’s warm greetings. She ignored Damien’s obvious concern. She felt like she was going to jump out of her skin. She flinched when Max put a hand on her shoulder.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“You tell me.” She crossed her arms and stepped away from him. “I don’t… I don’t feel good. What’s going on?”

All five of them exchanged worried glances, but Ava had a hard time focusing on anything but the crawling feeling beneath her skin. She took a deep breath and tried to calm down, but it was difficult. Her instincts urged her to flee.

“Ava,” Damien started.

“Where’s Leo?”

She rubbed her arms. Her skin was going crazy. She whispered another spell to shut out the souls in the room that were practically shouting at her. The tension caused her stomach to pitch.

“I think… I need to go.”

“Ava, why don’t you sit down?” Sari said.

Her breathing picked up. “What’s going on here? What’s wrong with this place?”

Rhys stepped forward and raised his hands. “Remember what I told you, Ava. Remember what I said.”

“What?” She didn’t remember anything. She felt battered. There was too much going on. Too many thoughts. Too many emotions. And threading through the chaos was the echo of a voice that couldn’t be. Malachi’s voice. She hadn’t heard it months. Not since she’d started lessons with Orsala. The memory of it shoved her back painfully. Ava felt the tears come to her eyes, but she blinked them back.

“Rhys, I want to go.”

“No!” Renata almost shouted. “You can’t.”

“Please,” Max said. “Ava, if you’d just sit down and—”

“Where’s Leo?” she asked again. She would see him, then leave. She couldn’t stay in this apartment any longer. “Where is he? I just want to see him and then I’ll go back. I don’t want to be here.”

A door down the hall burst open and Leo came charging out with a smile. “Hello, sister.” He rushed over and picked her up in his arms, swinging her around. She buried her face in his chest and took a deep breath.

“I missed you, Ava.”

“I missed you, too.” His arms were warm and steady around her, a familiar comfort. “I’m sorry, Leo. I… I need to go.”

“No. Please, stay. Everything will be all right.”

“It’s not you. I just don’t feel good.”

“There is someone here, Ava. Someone—”

“Your shirt.” She picked at the button on the front, frowning. Something about it.

“You need to sit down. We don’t want to shock you, but… There’s no easy way to say this.”

There was something about the scent of his shirt. Ava took a deep breath as Leo’s hand smoothed over her head.

“We all missed you so much.”

“What is that?” she murmured, staring at the warm flannel that covered his chest.

“What?”

Her head reared back when she placed the smell. “What the hell?”

Ava shoved away from him, holding up her hands, backing away from all six of her friends.

“Your shirt, Leo.” She didn’t want to be mad, but months of suppressed anger reared up. She’d tried. She’d tried so hard to keep going. And no matter what she did, Malachi followed her. In her memories. Her dreams. Now, even the scent of him crept up on her from his brother’s clothes. It was wrong. So wrong.

Leo only looked confused. “My shirt?”

“It smells—that smells like Malachi’s shirt! Are you wearing his shirts now? Why would you do that?”

Leo grabbed for her hand, but she was already heading toward the door. Whatever sick intervention they had planned was over. She was done. Gone. She never wanted to see them again. She needed to get as far away from their twisted world as she could. Ava was getting off the Irin roller coaster, and she never wanted to—

“Ava, please!” Rhys cried out. He ran to her, wrapping his arms around her before she could open the door. “We didn’t know how to tell you. We didn’t know what was right.”

She whirled around in his arms. “What the hell are you talking about?”

The memory of his voice grew louder. It pressed on her. Without her volition, she saw the mating marks at her wrists begin to glow.

Rhys saw them, too. “Open your mind, Ava. Remember what I said. Look at your arms and listen. Don’t you hear him? Don’t you feel him?”

The memories crashed through her. “Why are you doing this?” she said, tears falling from her eyes. “Why?”

Leo stepped forward and raised his hands in supplication. “He’s alive, Ava.”

“No.”

“We didn’t know how to tell you.”

“Shut up. Shut up!” She could feel it. Her heart was actually breaking in her chest. “Why would you even say that? I saw him die! Let me go, Rhys. This is sick—”

“We don’t know how,” Rhys whispered. “He’s alive. Your magic. His. Malachi is alive.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” she yelled. “I saw him die! I felt him die!”

Leo pointed down the hall. “He’s in the bedroom, Ava. I’m not lying. It’s been killing him not to come to you.”

She shook her head and wiped the tears from her red, angry cheeks. “I’m leaving. Now. You people are crazy. Rhys, let me go.”

“Listen,” Renata commanded. “Listen to him! I can hear his voice, and I’m not even his mate.”

“Ava, please!”

A muffled shout echoed down the hall, and everyone fell silent.

Her heart stopped, and her mind went blank.

It couldn’t be.

She’d finally broken. She’d been expecting it for years. Maybe it had all been an illusion. Some desperate construct of a sick and lonely mind. Her knees buckled and she went limp as Rhys lifted her.

“Take her to him,” Leo said.

“No.” Ava shook her  head.

Rhys carried her down the hall. Ava fought the urge to vomit. Her head swam. The crawling feeling came to her skin again, and the dark voices fluttered at the edges of her mind.

“Rhys,” she whispered, eyeing the door with painful dread. “Don’t. Please, let me go.”

“You have to see,” he said. “You have to see it’s real.”

“Don’t. Please don’t.”

They were at the door. Rhys set her down and pushed it open. Ava drew back but could not stop her eyes from peering into the dimly lit room.

A dark figure was pacing in the lamplight, his hands tearing at his hair. He turned to her, and tortured grey eyes met her own.

A ghost. A dream.

“Ava.”

She slammed the door and ran.

Chapter Twenty-one

He shot out of the room. Waiting in the bedroom while she cried had almost broken him. He couldn’t lose her.

“Ava!”

They all got out of his way. He caught up to her before she could make it to the door.

“Ava, please!”

“No! No no no no no…” She said it over and over. She closed her eyes when his arms wrapped around her. She shook her head and turned her face away.

“I’m alive.”

“No.”

“It’s me.” He buried his face in her neck, inhaling the sweet smell of her skin. She was shivering, but her mating marks glowed against his. Gold on silver. Shining as he held her back from bolting to the door.

“You’re dead,” she whispered. “I felt it. I can’t—”

“I’m not dead. I came back.”

There was nothing from her but a sob. The tears leaked from her closed eyes, and he sank to the ground with Ava in his arms.

“I came back to you,” he whispered, his lips pressed to her temple. “Vashama canem, reshon. I heard you. It was the only thing I heard.”

She had stopped struggling, but her eyes were still closed.

“Look at me, Ava.”

She shook her head.

“You think you’re crazy, don’t you?”

She nodded, still silent.

“You’re not crazy.” Malachi forced his voice to harden, even as he held her as softly as he could. “Ava, look at me.”

Her head did not lift.

“Look at your mate.”

He felt her shoulders begin to soften. And the fists he gripped in his hands tentatively turned their palms to his.

“I saw you in the spice market,” he began, thinking back to the dreams he thought had only been illusions. The flickers of memory his mind had recovered. “It smelled of cloves and honey.”

Her head lifted a little.

“And you were carrying an old leather case. I followed you because… you fascinated me.”

She finally opened her eyes but didn’t look directly at him. Their friends stood, surrounding them, holding their collective breath, but Malachi pretended they weren’t even there.

He leaned down to her ear and whispered, “I met you in the forest. I found you, and I picked you up off the ground. I held you, and I loved you under the stars. You thought they were only dreams. I did, too.”

Ava finally turned to him, her eyes wide and wet with tears.

“I tried to ask you where you were. From the moment I woke, all I have searched for is you.”

She lifted a hand, tentatively touching his jaw. He saw her lips form his name, but no sound escaped.

“I was helpless in the forest. I lost you again, and I thought I would lose my mind.”

“This is real?”

He nodded.

“This is real?” she asked again, her voice rising. Her other hand joined the first, touching his face. Tracing his lips, then moving down his body. She turned in his arms, but her hands never left his face. His neck. His shoulders.

“It’s me, Ava.”

She laughed once. Sharp. Painful to his ears. Then she buried her face in his neck and inhaled. “Your smell,” she said, her lips pressed against his neck as his arms tightened around her. “It’s you. I smelled you on Leo’s shirt, and I thought—”

“It’s me, Ava. I promise. It’s not a trick.”

“It’s… impossible!”

“I know.”

She burst into tears again, but this time he heard relief, not panic. He felt their friends relax, and he saw Damien pull Sari into an embrace.

“It’s not possible,” she said again, sniffling.

“I know it’s not. It just… is.”

She picked her head up, narrowed her eyes on him, then leaned forward, shocking him when her lips met his.

It was everything. So much more than the liquid quality of their dreams, Ava’s lips were heat and life. His mouth opened to her tongue as she forced her way inside. Tasting him. Drawing back to bite the edge of his lip as he groaned in pleasure. He buried his hands in her hair, pressing her closer. Their teeth clashed. She drew back, only to have him pull her forward again.

He could live on the taste of her tongue in his mouth. The reality of her. The bitter edge of coffee and the salt of tears. And the taste of her. Her. It was no dream. She was real beneath his hands. Her flesh gave, and the sharp crescents of her fingernails dug into his shoulders.

Malachi heard murmuring around them, but he ignored it.

Ava finally pulled back, her lips swollen and red. Her eyes wide. “It’s really you.”

“Would you like to test some more?”

She blinked. “Maybe not while we’re being watched.”

For the first time, Malachi broke into a smile. The relief coursed through him. Ava smiled tentatively, lifting a hand to touch the lips she’d just kissed.

He closed his eyes at the tender touched and whispered, “Hello, Ava.”

“Hi.”

“I think I’m going to hold off on flying to London for a while.”

He frowned, looking down at her as they sat on the couch and drank coffee with Max and Renata, Sari, Damien, Rhys and Leo. Half of them were sitting on the floor, allowing Ava to stretch out at Malachi’s side. She had her arm around his waist and he had his around her shoulders. They spoke quietly to each other as the others made small talk and pretended not to watch them.

“You were going to London?”

“I was not in a good place a few days ago.”

He frowned. “That dream. I tried so hard to ask you where you were that I frightened you.”

“It didn’t make sense to me. I still thought they were only dreams. How could a dream feel so real? I guess my mind rebelled against it.”

“It still doesn’t feel real, does it?”

She shook her head and turned her face into his shoulder. “No.”

“It’s real. I’m really here.”

“I don’t care. If I’ve finally lost it and this is all a hallucination in the loony bin, I’m just going to go with it.”

“Maybe we both died,” he whispered. “Maybe this is heaven.”

Rhys leaned over and slapped the back of Malachi’s head so hard his teeth rattled. “That feel heavenly, brother?”

Ava fought back a smile and drew her legs up and over his so she was almost sitting in his lap. “Don’t damage my mate, Rhys.” There was the first spark of playfulness in her eyes. “I just got him back.”

Rhys smiled at her, a smile so full of love and relief that Malachi was almost jealous. Almost, but not. It was his lap that Ava sat in. Her skin against his. He could feel the calm energy between them. It would occasionally heat when he flashed to a memory of their dreams, and he wondered when he would be able to have her alone. He needed her. Almost desperately. But hers was the greater shock, and he was wary.

“You’re waiting for me to start crying again, aren’t you?”

He cautiously said, “There was a lot of crying.”

“I’m fine. For now.”

He pressed his cheek to the top of her head. “It was understandable. It was very difficult for me to listen to them try to tell you. We thought it would be best if I didn’t just…”

“Walk up and say, ‘Hey, how’s it going? By the way, I’m not dead’?”

“Your reaction might have been somewhat violent.”

“I don’t think you’re wrong.” She let out a sigh and he felt more of the tension leave her shoulders. “Rhys?”

“Hmm?”

“What now?”

Malachi and Rhys exchanged glances. It was the hardest question to answer, past the mystery of how Ava had managed to call him down from heaven.

“I don’t know, darling,” Rhys said. “We didn’t plan much past this moment. He was a bit of a mess in Turkey.”

“I was fine.” Malachi bristled.

“You didn’t even remember your name,” Leo said from the other side of Ava. “You’ve years to go before your talesm are back to normal, and—”

“What?” Ava’s head shot up and clipped the bottom of his chin. “What’s wrong with his talesm?”

Would it change how she saw him? Malachi had never felt the loss of his powers more keenly. Was it possible she would no longer find him a worthy mate? He glared at Leo, who did not get the message.

“They  disappeared. It was like the day he was born,” Leo told her blithely. “Well, not completely, of course. But not a single spell remained. All his scars are gone, too.”

“What?” He could feel Ava tense in his arms.

“Leo,” Rhys started. “Perhaps you should let Malachi—”

“He used to have this great nasty gash across his ribs—I’m sure you noticed it, Ava—and it’s completely gone. Of course, it’s possible that when his memory comes back—”

“Wait, what?”

The whole room fell silent.

Ava turned to him. “What about your memories?”

“I don’t… I can’t—”

“You don’t remember… what? The fight in the cistern?”

He swallowed, trying to pull her closer, but she leaned back, eyes intent. “It’s not just my death, Ava.”

“So… what? What don’t you remember?”

Leo and Rhys had wisely fallen silent, and Malachi felt the weight of the room on him.

“I don’t remember much, Ava. About… anything. My family. My life.”

He could barely hear her when she spoke. “Me?”

“I remember a little.”

She pulled away and stood, taking a deep breath. “Oh… shit.”

“Ava, it’s—”

“All of it?” She stared at him, but he couldn’t read her expression. It was confusion. Sadness. Guilt? “But… the market. You remembered the market and the dreams and—”

“They’re coming back to me.” He grabbed for her hand. “Please, Ava.”

There were the tears again. “Do you even remember who I am?”

“Of course I do.”

“Do you? Or is it just this—this mating instinct? If you don’t even remember what we were, or how we fell in love…” Her voice fell away before she whispered, “Do you even love me anymore?”

Everyone was staring, but no one was offering to help explain. Of course, what was there to explain? None of them knew anything.

He stood and took Ava’s hand. “If you would excuse us, I don’t think we need an audience.”

He’d pondered how he would approach this since the day he and Rhys had talked in the library.

“You love your mate. But… you don’t love Ava. You can’t, because you don’t know her anymore.”

But he did! He’d hoped his memories would have returned by the time he found her. He’d hoped, but it was in vain.

“You don’t,” she whispered. “You don’t remember me. You feel the same bond I do, but it’s instinct. You don’t remember Cappadocia or Istanbul. When you showed me the Basilica Cistern… or the way you used to scold me when I would talk about being insane—”

“I still don’t like that, so don’t start,” he snapped.

He closed the door and spun toward her, suddenly angry. With her. With himself. With the whole damn confusing maze. Didn’t she realize? He was as lost as she was. Ava looked shell-shocked, standing in the center of Max’s bedroom, staring at a wall.

“You don’t remember the island or the kiss. The first time we made love. You don’t remember any of it?”

“Stop reminding me of everything I’ve lost. Trust me, I know.”