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The Singer - Hunter Elizabeth - Страница 41


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Black spots danced in front of her eyes. Then the blackness grew and spread as the whispers in her mind grew louder.

Do not fear the darkness.

Ava closed her eyes.

A rush of wings and feathers from the corner of her vision. A rising shadow. Tall, as if a dark mountain had come to life, he loomed over her, cloaked in the void. A soughing breath stirred the black feathers that drooped over his hood. He was nothing. As if the stars had been snuffed in the night, he bore no face behind the droop of his black cloak. A nightmare. A monster. He leaned closer, forcing her to look. Forcing her to face the secret—

Her eyes flew open with the screaming.

No hand clutched at her throat. It had fallen away, and the Grigori soldier was screaming in her ear. She rolled over, shoving him off, but he kept up his hoarse cries, even as the building began to come alive. Someone pounded on the door. Ava heard shouts and running steps. All the while, the soldier rolled on the ground, clutching his hands to his temples, his eyes frozen on some invisible terror, his pupils dilated so his eyes appeared pure black.

In a blink, Mala rolled him over and speared her knife into his neck, ending the screams and releasing the creature’s dark soul. Then she turned to Ava with fear in her eyes.

There was a muffled conversation at the door, then the voices died away and Ava heard the deadbolt turn. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, enjoying the bite of the winter air that still poured into the room.

“What happened?” It was Renata. “The neighbors thought someone was being murdered!”

There was silence, so Ava knew Mala was signing the answer. She simply rolled over, making no attempt to rise. She watched the two women who stood at the door. Mala was almost naked. She was only wearing a T-shirt and underwear to sleep. Two empty knife sheaths were strapped to her thighs. Renata looked exhausted. Covered with a dusting of snow, her hair was almost grey. Mala’s explanation went on a long time, then Renata finally turned to Ava as Mala went to snap the window closed.

“Ava, are you all right?” Renata knelt down and shook her shoulders. “Why are you crying? Are you hurt?”

She hadn’t realized she was crying.

“I’m fine.”

“What did you do to the Grigori?”

“What?” Ava sniffed. “Mala, how do you sleep with those on your legs?”

“Pay attention.” Renata swatted her cheek, not hard enough to bruise but hard enough to notice. “What did you do?”

“I don’t know.” Ava curled up on her side, shaking with cold and not caring that she was lying on the floor. She reached for a blanket that had half fallen off the bed. She was freezing and she shook so hard she felt as if her skin might fly off her body. “Maybe h…he was scared of the black angel, too.”

Renata looked at her like she was crazy. Maybe she was. Adrenaline coursed through her system. She felt hopped up, despite the tears on her face. “I didn’t even get a punch in. Not even a kick. Need to practice more. And my magic—”

“She’s rambling,” Renata said. “Ava, sit up. Take deep breaths.”

She could breathe now. She hadn’t been able to when the Grigori had his hand on her throat. Hadn’t been able to say anything. The black spots danced across her eyes again, so she sat up carefully.

Renata stood and crossed the room to the window.

“Three sets of prints below the snow.” She secured the blinds and turned. “Just those three?”

Mala nodded and signed some more. She also kept her distance from Ava.

Renata said, “Mala says thank you for turning on the lights. And she doesn’t know what you did to the Grigori, but whatever it was incapacitated both the one she was fighting and the one who had you.”

“Oh…” She sniffed. “Well, that’s good.”

“And she always sleeps with her daggers. Her mate thought it was sexy.”

Somehow, an Irin scribe thinking sleeping with a deadly woman was sexy didn’t surprise Ava at all.

Mala was still signing and Renata watched her with a frown.

“No,” she said. “I have no idea.”

More signing as Ava climbed to her knees, smoothing the sheets on the beds and wondering if she would ever sleep again.

Renata said, “I told you, I don’t know. Orsala said she sees visions. You said their eyes went black?”

If Ava couldn’t sleep, then when would she see Malachi?

“Wake up, Ava. Wake up now!”

He’d known. He’d warned her.

She shook her head. No, of course not. She was being absurd. It wasn’t Malachi. Her subconscious had sensed danger and used her dream to wake her. Her quivering hands pulled on another sweater.

“I’m not there.”

The pain in his voice… It was almost as if he was speaking from far away. As if he could swoop in and protect her. Impossible. Fresh grief threatened to swamp her, and Ava thought she heard a flutter of wings in the air. She shoved the grief to the back of her mind.

Mala and Renata were still speaking.

She felt like climbing the walls. Her skin crawled. Were shadows moving in the corner of the room? There was something just beyond her perception. Some instinct needled her. She couldn’t pinpoint the threat, but she could feel it.

Run.

She started packing up, throwing her things into the small bag she’d brought, scanning the room for other belongings.

“What are you doing?” Renata asked.

“Packing.”

“Oh?” Ava could hear the humor in her voice. “And where are you going at three in the morning?”

“I don’t know. Away. I don’t want to be here.” The threat might have passed, but she could still feel it, like eyes on her back.

Someone, something was watching. She could sense it.

“You’re not going anywhere. Mala and I will take turns watching, then we’ll leave in the morning.”

“No.” She shook her head, hands trembling. “I can’t stay here. Not here.”

“Ava, there’s no—”

“I will not stay here!” she yelled. “It is not safe. Maybe you don’t feel it, but I do. We are not safe here. Someone can see us!”

Mala stepped closer. She put her hands on Ava’s shoulders and stared into her eyes. Mala’s eyes were deep brown, like the darkest coffee. Ava didn’t flinch when she held her gaze. Something shifted in the Irina’s expression, and she nodded. She stepped away and signed to Renata.

“What?”

More signing.

“So you’re just going to drive back to Sarihofn in the middle of the night because—”

Mala interrupted her with two clicks of her tongue, then a long stream of signs passed between Renata and Mala. Ava was frustrated, catching only the occasional word or phrase, but they seemed to be arguing.

“Fine,” Renata finally said. “Ava, you and Mala are going back to Sarihofn right now.”

Mala walked to the sofa where she’d been sleeping and pulled on a pair of pants.

“You’re not coming?”

“No,” Renata said, her mouth twisted in irritation. “There is someone I need to contact. I’ll go to Oslo and meet him there. He’s… very well connected and he knows more about Grigori politics than most. Mala thinks that one of the Fallen may have eyes on you. That may be what you’re feeling. How that could be is a mystery to me, but I haven’t studied them. This scribe has.”

“But we’ll be safe in Sarihofn?” The creeping feeling still stalked her. She could sense it, like darkness outside a lit room.

“Did you feel this way in Sarihofn before?”

“No.”

“Then it’s possible that Sari and Orsala’s shields work to protect you from… whatever it is you’re feeling. Either way, it’s the safest place for you.”

“Okay.” She let out a breath. “Okay. The ones today, on the ski slope—?”

“Dust,” she said. “Gone now. They were from the city. Just looking for easy prey. No one else with them that I could see.”

“So the ones that came here tonight—”

“Coincidence.”

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Hunter Elizabeth - The Singer The Singer
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