The Singer (14 page)

He didn’t speak. He simply picked her up at the waist and walked to the edge of the wood, laying her down on a bed of leaves that appeared before him. She opened her mouth, but he covered it with his own, catching her gasp as he spread her legs and lay in the cradle of her body.

He kissed her over and over again. Her fingers twisted in his hair and dug into his neck, pulling him closer. Her legs wrapped around his hips.

“More,” she murmured when his mouth left hers and he buried his face in her neck, biting the soft skin there as she arched beneath him. “More.”

“Yes.” He hissed out in pleasure when his hips surged forward and his body breached hers. The sharp bite of her nails in his shoulder reminded him of the needle in his arm and the heady pleasure and pain of his new spells.

He pulled back to meet her eyes, and the naked desire in them fed his own. She bit her lip, then pulled his head down, sinking her teeth into the full curve of his lower lip as he moved faster and harder within her.

More
.

The magic surged through him and into her, linking them. Every mark on her body was lit up, and her eyes glowed gold in the darkness.

More
.

She cried out when she came, pulling him closer and wrapping her arms around his shoulders as he continued to drive into her. Inextricably, eternally linked. The other half of his soul, reaching for its mate. He found what he’d been searching for in the darkness, and he pulled her with him over the edge.

And still he craved more.

Chapter Eight

Ava woke in the pitch black, her body aching in awareness and his voice whispering in her mind.

“I love you, reshon.”

She pressed her eyes tight, holding on to the dream. She could sense his phantom touch. Smell his scent. Feel the rough stubble along his jaw as it brushed over the sensitive skin on her belly. Her stomach was in knots and she ached.

Ached.

As if her muscles remembered loving him, even though months had passed. As if she could turn over in her bed and he would be there. She forced back the tears in her eyes, shutting them in the darkness and holding on to the shadowy images that haunted her nights.

“Reshon…”

Ava sat up, pushing back the down comforter and letting the cold bite her skin. She rubbed her arms in the brisk northern air and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. She’d get no more sleep that night. Dressing in the warm clothes Max had found for her in Turkey, she crawled out of bed and headed toward the kitchen. The clock in the corner told her it was only three a.m.

Amazingly, when she got to the kitchen, she saw a lantern set on the counter and a woman’s figure bending over the table.

Ava halted, trying not to be alarmed.

The woman must have heard her, because she turned and held up her hands, smiling. “I’m sorry. I hope I didn’t wake you.”

“You didn’t.”

 
“I’m Karen. I woke very early this morning, and I just knew you would need breakfast.”

“Hi.” She relaxed. She’d heard Karen’s name before. “I’m Ava.”

The woman gave a rosy smile. “I know.”

She was short and curvaceous, exactly what Ava would have pictured for the woman who made the delicious breads and pastries that were delivered fresh every morning. Her blond hair was tucked under a wool hat, but Ava could see spun-gold curls poking out around her ears. She was bundled against the cold morning air, and a basket of steaming baked goods was sitting on the table.

“I was just going to tuck these in the oven and leave a note. It’s getting so cold in the mornings I don’t like leaving the bread outside.”
 

“Thanks. That’s really considerate.”
 
Ava’s stomach growled to life. “You’re an amazing baker, by the way. I’ve been meaning to thank you.”

“You’re welcome!” A dimple popped out on Karen’s cheek just as Ava heard a rustling and stomping at the door. “Oh, that’s Bruno. He’s probably wondering what’s taking so long.”

The door cracked open, and a bear of a man poked his head through. He had to have been six and a half feet, with a long brown beard and shaggy hair that hung over his ears, as if he were overdue for a haircut. His shoulders filled the doorway, and his flannel shirt hung open at the neck, revealing dark
talesm
that stood out against pale skin.

“Sweet, what is taking so—oh, hallo!” His eyes swung toward her, and Ava pulled on her sweater as she lifted a hand in greeting. The bear grinned. “How did my sweet girl know you would be awake? But that’s her gift, yes? She just knows these things, my Karen. A touch of Chamuel’s blood in her.”

He stepped through the door and seemed to get impossibly taller.

“Bruno,” Karen hissed. “It’s early. Ava might not want company.”

Bruno’s eyes turned toward hers, wide and blue, as if shocked by the thought of a neighbor not wanting to visit at three in the morning.

“Sorry. Would you rather we…” He motioned to the door.

“No.” Ava was quick to smile. Something about the giant man reminded her of Leo. “No, that’s fine. I’m not going to get any more sleep.”

“Well sit, then.” Karen began bustling around the kitchen. “I’ll make coffee. I’m sorry about this, Ava. You were probably hoping for a quiet morning.”

All her mornings were quiet now. There was no teasing Malachi trying to keep her in bed, whispering delicious secrets and making her laugh. There was nothing.

“No, it’s fine.” She forced a smile. “I like the company. I haven’t met many people yet.”

“Oh.” Karen waved a hand as she filled the electric kettle. “They don’t want to overwhelm you. Sari warned them your mind isn’t protected yet. But you’ll learn the spells soon, and then they’ll introduce themselves. Everyone’s excited to meet you. We don’t get many new people.”

Bruno crossed to her and reached out his hand. Ava took it, and the immediate wash of comfort almost broke her control. Bruno held her hand in both of his big paws and bent down, smiling. “Welcome, Ava. I’m Bruno, and this is my mate, Karen. It’s very nice to meet you. We’re glad you’re here.”

“Thank you.”

“And I’ll try to be quiet, huh? So we don’t wake your guard.” He winked one blue eye, and Ava had the sudden image of Bruno in a red cap and coat.
 

“Do you ever play Santa at Christmas? Because you’d be awesome.”

Bruno threw his head back and laughed, patting his flat stomach. “I’ve been trying to fatten up, but it doesn’t seem to work.”

“Shh! You’ll wake Damien.” Karen shook her head and turned back to the kettle.

Ava shook her head, smiling as she walked to the table. Bruno slipped behind Karen at the counter, bending down to wrap his arms around his mate.

“Did you hear, sweet? Ava says you’re not feeding me enough.”

Karen said something Ava didn’t understand; it made Bruno growl low in his throat and pull Karen closer to drop a kiss on her neck. Ava turned her head from the easy intimacy between them. She pulled three plates from the cupboard, then turned back and got another. There was no way that Damien would be sleeping for long, not with Bruno’s booming voice filling the kitchen.

In fact, by the time the coffee was poured, dark and steaming from the French press on the counter, Damien was wandering out of his room, hair mussed from the night but already dressed in warm flannels.

“We took down a tree yesterday, and he’s still awake at this hour,” Damien said, eyeing the steaming cup that Karen was already pouring cream into. “Bruno, you’ve scribed a spell I don’t know.”

Bruno winked at Ava again and pulled Karen’s chair closer. “Yes, but I’m not sharing. You’ll have to figure it out on your own.”

“Damien, how is Sari?” Karen asked. “Any progress?”

Bruno guffawed as Damien closed his eyes. “Woman, don’t you know he gets that question in some form or another ten times a day?”

Karen shrugged. “That’s because we all know she’d be far less… cranky if they reconciled.”

“We’ll be fine,” Damien said, sipping his coffee. “I’m not leaving until we’ve resolved some things.”

“Good,” Bruno said, reaching for some of the spiced nut bread that Karen had set out. Instead of grabbing a piece for himself, he reached across the table and put a piece first on Ava’s plate, then Karen’s, before passing the basket to Damien. “What I want to know is when Ava is meeting with Orsala.” He looked at her, wiggling his eyebrows. “We’re all very curious what you can do.”

Ava tried to smile. From the first day here, she’d felt and heard the probing curiosity. She wasn’t convinced there was anything special about her other than her mysterious parentage. Certainly nothing like Sari’s elemental powers or the healing she’d witnessed Astrid perform the day before. Even Karen seemed to have some sixth sense regarding baked goods.

“I can take really good pictures,” Ava said. “But that’s not very supernatural.”

“Hmm,” Karen mused. “But
why
are you such a talented photographer? Practice and training, I’m sure. But often, we hone our gifts without realizing their full potential. I wouldn’t be surprised if something about your chosen profession relates to your talents as an Irina.”

Bruno winked again. “See? Chamuel’s blood. My sweet girl has a sense about these things.” His eyes flicked to Damien. “I have a feeling our friend here has his suspicions, as well.”

Damien shrugged when Ava turned to him. “You’ll meet Orsala this afternoon. She’ll be able to read you.”

“How?” Ava asked.

Karen said, “Bruno teases that I have a touch of Chamuel’s blood.”

“Chamuel? Is he an angel?”

“He’s our forefather who gifted the Irina with empathy and mental influence. My mate is probably right—”
 

“Say it again.” Bruno sighed. “It’s music to my ears.”

Karen gave him a wry smile. “I have a touch. But Orsala? She has Chamuel’s gift, only far stronger than me. She’s a very potent empath and she’ll be able to read you.”

“Empath? So, she can actually… feel what I’m feeling?” Ava was reluctant to vent her own emotional roller coaster on another person, even one who was supernatural.

“She can feel what you’re feeling and influence your mind, though she won’t unless it’s necessary.”

“I don’t want her in my mind.” Forget it. She’d run away before she met this Orsala person. She’d rather take her chances with the Grigori.

Karen reached out a hand. “She won’t do anything. Not unless it’s necessary. And she’ll always tell you ahead of time. Our songs say that is why empathy and influence go hand in hand. Only those with extreme empathy for another can be trusted not to use that influence to manipulate.”

Damien said, “In short, Ava, Orsala
could
influence your mind to do almost anything, but since she would feel your emotions—feel the consequences of forcing you to do something against your will and the mental agony that would produce—she would never do it. Does that make sense?”

“I guess.” Ava felt herself start to relax.
 

“It’s the reason that Sarihöfn is protected,” Bruno said. “Orsala gives everyone a mental prompt—a safety—so we are unable to reveal its location. This is what keeps us safe from Grigori who might try to kidnap one of our people and make her talk.”

“Has that happened?” A chill went down her neck.

“Yes,” Karen said softly. “A number of times. The Grigori finally realized that kidnapping us wouldn’t work. So now they just kill us on sight.”

“Orsala will give you that mental prompt when you meet her, Ava,” Damien said. “You
won’t
have a choice about it.”

“I’m fine with that.”

“Good.”

The thought of being forced to lead the Grigori to this peaceful place made Ava want to throw up. Instead, she steadied her hands on her coffee cup and took another bite of bread, deciding to steer the conversation into less dangerous waters.

“So, Karen, if I baked, I’d ask you for this recipe. But I don’t, so I’m just going to ask that you bring it by a lot.”

Karen gave her a bright smile. “Would you like to
learn
how to bake?”

“Unless you want your kitchen in flames, it’s probably a bad idea.”

Ava was walking between Sari and Damien on the path to Orsala’s house. The older woman lived about a mile away from the main house and surrounding cottages. The energy between the two mates crackled despite their silence, and Ava tried to ignore the rush of voices that flew from their minds. Both obviously had a lot to say, but they had no intention of sharing.

Finally, Ava had to break the silence, if for no other reason than to stave off the approaching headache. “So, why does she live so far away? Is it because of the empath thing?”

“Hmm?” Sari looked over her shoulder, as if surprised that Ava was still there.
 

“Orsala. Why does she live away from everyone else?”

“She can shield herself from the emotions around her, but it costs energy she knew she was going to need to read you the first time. So she went to her house. She likes her solitude, but she’s often in the main house.”