The Scribe (32 page)

“Tonight?”

“Right now.”

“Your… mate?” She still hesitated at the word, but Malachi smiled.

“Yes.”

“Forever?”

He looked up. “Forever. No turning away until death parts us.”

A tentative smile crossed her lips. “I thought you guys were immortal.”

He kissed her. “We’re all immortal, Ava, as long as our stories are told.” A small frown creased between her eyebrows, so he kissed her again. “Say yes.”

“Yes.”

“Yes?” He smiled.

“Yes,
reshon
.” She placed her hands on his cheeks, stroking them despite the rasp of stubble. “You’re mine. I knew it weeks ago. So yes.”

Desire roared to life, but Malachi clamped down on it and said, “Take off your clothes. All of them.”

“Every stitch?” The teasing light came back.

“Every. Single. Stitch.” He pulled back the cover and reached for the jar of dye.

“What is that?” she asked as she pulled off her underthings.

“Henna dye. It’s actually what we’ve always used, but I apologize for the brush.” He shook up the dye and then uncapped it, dipping the rough brush into the jar before he looked up. “It should be much nicer than this.”

“What do I do?” she asked, her voice tentative in the silence.

“Turn around,” Malachi said. “Hold still. And let me mark you.”

Ava pulled up her legs and turned her back to him. Malachi sat on the edge of the bed and took a deep breath. He’d dreamed of this moment for hundreds of years. Granted, the surroundings were usually a little more luxurious, but the sight before him…

Ava’s smooth back, pale and glowing in the lamplight. The fine bones of her spine guiding him from the base of her skull to the swell of her buttocks. She was more than he’d dreamt. More than he deserved.

Malachi leaned forward, whispering the ancient vows against her skin, and his breath cast a golden glow as the magic took hold. He lifted the brush and began.

He wrote the spells across her body, the dye taking hold as the magic did. And though the henna would fade with time, the magic would remain, imbued in her skin. Protecting her. Strengthening her. For the rest of her life, his words would mark her. He took care as he wrote, hundreds of years of practice suddenly making sense. Countless hours of instruction. No mistakes were allowed in this; it was the most important
talesm
he would ever scribe.

Protective spells formed down her back. Whispered aloud as he felt the magic leave his body and enter hers. His lips trailed after his brush, kissing along her backbone as her heart raced beneath his mouth.

“Is it…” She arched her back when she felt the brush trail low. “Is it supposed to feel like this?”

He couldn’t stop the smile of satisfaction. “This is the ritual performed on the mating night. Does it please you?”

She gasped as the brush moved over the base of her spine. She said, “That would be a yes.”

Ava’s scent bloomed and Malachi had to pause, breathing deeply as his forehead rested on her shoulder. “
Reshon
. Ava…”

“Keep going,” she said, desire lacing her voice. “Don’t stop.”

Minutes turned to hours. She turned when he told her, baring the front of her body when her back and neck where covered with spells.

The spells for longevity were next, arching along her fine collarbone. Malachi groaned when he saw the golden flush across her throat. Her breasts. Her belly. The brush dipped and traced over and over, the ink darkening and drying as the magic glowed beneath it. She appeared lit from within. He bent his head and let his mouth suckle her breast, giving in to the arousal that had become almost unbearable.

She moaned and leaned back. “Malachi?”

“Almost done.”

Spells for increased strength along her arms. Speed on her thighs. Spells for healing across her breasts and belly. He felt the magic leave him, knew he was giving almost dangerously of his own power, but he couldn’t stop.

Her energy spilled over, and he felt the hum begin to build in the air.

“Soon?” She panted.

“Soon.”

The last spells were over her heart, circling around as he pledged himself to her. He dipped in the dye again, then the brush met her skin as Malachi marked her as his mate. The balance of his soul. The bearer of his young. No other would mark her like this. No one but him. The possessive instinct swamped him as he finished the last stroke of the mating ritual. He braced himself over her, allowing the ink to dry as he drank from her lips. Over and over, she met him, as hungry for him as he was for her.

Patience
.

Malachi was aroused to the point of pain. His breath came in rasps as her kisses drugged him, making his head spin. He clenched his hands in the loose sheets, allowing the magic to build and grow until her body was covered in a gold glow answered by his own
talesm
, which shone with a low silver light in the darkness. His magic swelled in recognition of its twin, even without the songs the Irina usually sang. Though untrained, Ava’s magic was powerful. It called to him as their mouths met in aching hunger.

“Do you hear that?” she said, tearing her lips from his, bracing her hands on his shoulders.

“What?”

“That note. I…” Tears touched her eyes, but she smiled. “It’s beautiful. Perfect. It’s… us.”

Complete
.

Silver met gold when he tackled her to the bed.

Finally.

His body sang in recognition. Here was desire. Here was beauty. Here was completion. He reached down to test her, but Ava was as ready as he was, her body primed from hours of waiting.

“Yes!” She gripped his arms. “Now,
please
.”

He entered her with one thrust, halting when he was seated to the hilt, his forehead pressed to hers as they groaned in unison.

“Yes,” she whispered. “Like this. Always like this.”

He took her mouth again, leisurely tasting as he began a slow rhythm. She embraced him, arms wrapped around his chest, legs around his hips. The urgency was there, but Malachi didn’t want to rush.

“Faster,” she said.

He smiled. “No.”

She dug her nails in his shoulders, and he bit back a moan. Then he reached down, gripping her hip and changing the angle until her head fell back and her body bowed. He took his time, ignoring her pleas to rush, delighting in her response as he tested their new connection. Her pleasure was his own. Her desire fed his. He held back—barely—when she came the first time. Then his body picked up a faster rhythm as the world narrowed to her.

“Again,” he whispered.

“Can’t.”

“Yes, you can.” He could feel it. Feel her body around him. The slow tightening. The catch in her breath. The pressure built as he flipped them over, letting her arch back over him as he watched her skin luminesce gold, alive with the ancient magic of their race.

This
.

There was no greater beauty in heaven or earth.

“Again.”

“Yes!”

Ava cried out as she came and Malachi’s mind flew, her body pulling the long-awaited climax from him as he came in a roar of heat and light, his hands gripping her hips as his own back arched. His
talesm
shone bright silver in the darkness, then his mate fell forward, panting against his chest as he wrapped his arms around her and closed his eyes.

This is why the angels fell.

He woke slowly; the sun shining through the blacked-out windows cast eerie shadows in the room. Ava was still draped over his torso, exhausted by their lovemaking. Most of the dye had rubbed off during the night, leaving the red-brown henna patterns that mirrored his tattoos. His immediate reaction was to wake her and claim her body again, but he knew she needed sleep. He covered her with a light blanket and wrapped a towel around his body before he walked downstairs.

“Any change?” he asked Rhys, who still sat by Leo’s bedside, drowsy in the brighter light of the second-story room.

“He’s cooler. The wound is healing. He started getting some real sleep after you two quieted down.”

“We weren’t that loud.”

“It wasn’t the sound, it was the energy, for heaven’s sake. You forget how young he is. If his body had let him, he would have gone charging into the night, desperate to find a woman.”

“Sorry.” Malachi pulled up a chair opposite his friend.

“No, you’re not.” Rhys’s gaze flickered down to Malachi’s hands, still stained from the henna dye. His eyes widened. “You marked her.”

“I did.”

“Malachi—”

“It was necessary.”

“No, it wasn’t. She doesn’t know the other half of the ritual. You’ve given her half your magic with nothing in return.”

“Don’t say that.” He glared. “Don’t ever say that. If she was yours, you’d understand.”

Rhys opened his mouth to speak but closed it again. After a few tense moments, he said, “You’ll be weak.”

“And she’ll be strong.”

“This is the worst time for you to indulge in sentimental—”

“It was necessary, Rhys.” He bit back the urge to yell. “When we spoke to Jaron, he said something.”

“What could he possibly have said that would make you risk your life—?”

“It was a warning. One of her, Rhys.” His friend fell silent as Malachi spoke. “One of her. Thousands of us. She was sent to me for a reason. I have to protect her.”

“We will all protect her, brother.”

“I’m counting on that. If anything happens to me… I’m counting on that. Do you understand?”

Rhys’s eyes finally met his intense gaze. “I understand. I would treat her as my own blood. You know this.”

“Thank you.”

“But seeing as you’re her one true love, you’d better make this promise unnecessary. Do
you
understand?”

Malachi grinned. “You think I want to give her up after I’ve just found her? Think again. You’d have her forgetting me in no time.”

His brother cleared his throat and forced a smile. “No, I wouldn’t.”

“No, you wouldn’t.”

“You need to get her out of the city.”

“Has Maxim called?”

“No, but I know he keeps an extra car not far from here. With unknown Fallen activity and so many Grigori in the city, that’s probably the safest route. If you can just get her out of the city, you’ll buy yourself some time.”

“Vienna?”

Rhys shrugged. “For now? Yes. But she needs to find someone to train her. After her safety, that’s the first priority. Even untrained, her magic is powerful. She’s like a loaded gun. She’s been good about not speaking in the Old Language, but with your magic running through her veins now, the temptation to use it is going to be stronger. She might not even be able to control it.”

“Irina, then.”

“Irina. You need to find a group of them. Sari’s faction would be the best, if Damien would tell you where they are.”

“She’s forbidden it. You know how she feels about males now.”

Rhys nodded toward the stairs. “But you’re not a lone male looking for a woman. You’re bringing your mate with you for help. She won’t leave an Irina unable to use her magic. It goes against everything she stands for.”

Malachi nodded, thinking about their options. “She’s rumored to be in Scandinavia somewhere.”

“Somewhere. It’s a big region.”

“And Brage is on the hunt. He’s Volund’s offspring. If Volund is behind this aggression, Scandinavia may be the last place I want to take her.”

“Or it may be the last place he’d look.” Rhys leaned over and wiped at Leo’s brow, which was still dotted with perspiration. “If you get her out of the city, you two will have time to think. You’ll have to find documents for her, anyway. Though if you can find Maxim, it’s possible he already has them prepared.”

“He’s cautious like that.”

“He is.”

As if called by the gods, Ava’s phone rang. Rhys smiled and handed it to Malachi. “Speak of the devil.”

Malachi took the phone and saw Maxim’s number on the screen. “Hello?”

“Finding unlisted mobile numbers is a pain in the ass, Malachi. Add her to the contact list, will you?”

He let out a sigh of relief and walked upstairs. “As if you already haven’t.”

“You are correct, old man. How’s my cousin?” A slight hitch in his throat was the only clue how worried Maxim was.

“He’ll be fine. Do you know about the house?”

“Yes. Did anyone retrieve the fire for him?”

“Rhys managed, but his hair’s a bit shorter.”

“We both owe him a debt.”

“Which I’m sure he’ll collect. How badly damaged was the house?”

“Not as much as we thought. The firefighters did an excellent job. I’m guessing whoever set it was trying to scatter us.”

“So they succeeded.”

“To an extent. Damien and I got hit with tear gas of all things after we got away last night. He’s mad as hell this morning, but not damaged.”