The Silent

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The Silent Page 9

by Elizabeth Hunter


  Not that it was the whole story. He didn’t tell them how Kyra’s eyes had glowed the first time he touched her hand. How his body went electric at a single brush of her finger. He didn’t tell them how he’d held her during the battle, felt her body jerk and wilt when her father died. He didn’t tell them about their whispered conversations and long embraces in Rěkaves or the kiss in the night market.

  Just the memory of that kiss was enough to wake his body from its centuries-long fast. Leo had quashed sensual hunger for over a century with a strict regime of discipline and resignation to a mateless life. But if she was his reshon…

  Kyra had changed everything. His soul and his body were hungry now. They’d tasted her delicacy and wanted to feast.

  “So you’ve only met her once?”

  “I saw her again last year when I went to the Czech Republic to fight one of the Fallen and she was there with her brother.” I held her before the battle, and she embraced me on the return.

  “Wow,” Ginny said. “Sounds epic.”

  Leo stared at the road. “I’m not here to entertain you.”

  Alyah said, “It sounds like the two of you only meet when there are problems. It doesn’t sound like you’ve had any time alone.”

  “We definitely have not,” he said under his breath.

  “Aha!” Ginny said. “So we have our mission, Alyah.”

  Alyah leaned forward between the two front seats. “I am here to assist in the instruction of these women and make sure they are protected. I’m here to gather information for my watcher on the workings of the free Grigori. I am not here to play matchmaker.”

  “Fine,” Ginny said. “I don’t answer to a watcher, and I think we need to hook the brother up. I think Leo needs to get laid.”

  Leo thought he needed to disappear. Flinging himself out of the car sounded like a not-horrible-at-all possibility. If this was what it was like to have sisters, he preferred the scribe house.

  “Isn’t that the turn?” he said, trying to ignore Ginny and Alyah.

  “Oh yeah.” Ginny swerved and flung the car into a U-turn. “So Leo, how do we get you and Kyra alone? Kidnapping seems the obvious choice.”

  “Seriously?” he asked. “That seems like the ‘obvious choice’ to you? I don’t see that going over well.”

  “But the direct approach might work better with her protection detail. Sura was awfully possessive of her.”

  “It’s not Sura he needs to worry about,” Alyah said. “It’s the aggressive one at the market I told you about. He also is attracted to Kyra.”

  “Niran?” Leo asked.

  “I like it.” Ginny grinned. “A little competition always makes a girl feel good.”

  Leo said, “What did I do to deserve this?”

  The air around the temple smelled of green bamboo and incense. There was a tinge of sandalwood in the scent that set Leo’s instincts on edge. It was the sign of Grigori. All around the world, Grigori smelled of sandalwood. His reaction was automatic. He’d been trained to seek it out and kill Grigori from the time he was thirteen. Learning to not go into a killing frame of mind took focused concentration.

  Floating over the sandalwood was the lush, heady aroma of jasmine and frangipani. It calmed him. He got out of the car and straightened, waiting for some signal from the quiet buildings surrounding the temple. None of them were fancy. They weren’t layered with gold and paint like those in the cities. This structure was moss-covered stone. Flowing dragons guarded the stairs, and the ivory eyes of a dark wooden Buddha winked from the doorway where natural light and candles were the only illumination.

  Alyah and Ginny stood next to him. Alyah, a tiny powerhouse, and Ginny, tall and lithe. They waited with the patience of Irina, knowing the free Grigori would want to meet them in a neutral place. Though they were only three, Irin and Irina warriors were powerful. Their discipline and magic were unmatched. Irina could take an enemy to the ground with their voice alone.

  On the far side of the courtyard, Leo heard a door open. It was Niran, and he was alone. He walked to the center of the courtyard and waited.

  Alyah stepped forward. As the only official warrior of the Bangkok house, it was her duty. Leo and Ginny fell in behind her, but not too close.

  “May the light shine on your house,” she said.

  Niran put his hands together and nodded. “I do not know the proper Irin words, but you and your people are welcome.”

  His words said one thing, but his body language said another. Leo was reading Niran, and the Grigori was not pleased.

  “We appreciate the welcome,” Alyah said. “You’ve already met Leo, I know. He is of the Istanbul house. And this is Ginny, an Irina who resides locally.”

  “The American Sura met?” Niran greeted her as well. “You are also welcome.”

  Shockingly, he ignored Leo.

  “Come,” Niran said. “My brothers are serving tea in the garden. Join us so we can talk.”

  “It would be my pleasure,” Alyah said.

  Leo walked at the back as Niran guided them around the monastery walls and toward an open teahouse set in the middle of the garden. A long, low table surrounded by cushions sat under the shaded structure. Grigori in monks’ robes walked to and from it, carrying trays and setting out dishes. The teahouse was surrounded by a massive garden. Vegetables grew along the edges with flowering plants surrounding the dining table.

  “You have a beautiful home,” he told Niran.

  Niran said nothing, but he nodded.

  They passed a gate to the left. Leo peered past it to see a path nearly concealed by thick bamboo. Moss-lined cobblestones disappeared into the hedge, which fronted a dense forest. Instinct told him that path led him to the guarded homes of the kareshta sisters. Perhaps they met in the evenings at the outdoor table, joining their brothers to partake of the evening meal, but none were there when Niran, Alyah, Ginny, and Leo arrived at the garden house.

  They sat down on thick silk cushions and watched the Grigori pour tea.

  Everything about their hosts’ outward appearance told Leo they were Grigori. They had the perfectly symmetrical faces and bodies of angelic offspring. They were handsome and fit. They exuded a near intoxicating magnetism. He could see that both Alyah and Ginny noticed it.

  But nothing in their manner said Grigori. They all wore the orange robes of a Buddhist monk. Their heads were shaved, and their bodies were covered to varying degrees by the intricate Sak Yant tattoos Leo had seen on Sura the night before. Lines of text down their shoulders and backs. Words and animal figures inked on their forearms. Many bore the tiger that Niran wore, but he also saw birds and lizards. A crocodile and a dragon. A mythical figure with four arms carrying swords. Each man seemed to have slightly different markings, much like Irin scribes.

  “You have questions,” Niran said.

  “I do,” Leo said. “If you are willing to answer them. Is Sura joining us?”

  “He’ll be here soon,” Niran said. “Perhaps you might save your questions about Sak Yant for Sura.” He turned to Alyah. “Any other questions the Bangkok scribe house has, I can answer.”

  “Would you share with us how you obtained freedom from the Fallen who sired you?” she asked.

  “I can. My brother Sura planned our father’s murder without my knowledge. He had been away from our father for many years, and our father had forgotten him as he was not considered a particularly adept warrior. He was too passive.”

  “Who was he?” Alyah asked. “My watcher would like his name for our records.”

  Niran hesitated, but only for a moment. “His name was Tenasserim.”

  The name wasn’t familiar to Leo, but both Alyah and Ginny fell silent.

  “Your brother’s plan must have been very good,” Alyah said, “to kill such a powerful Fallen.”

  “It was.”

  “We heard rumors that Tenasserim was dead, but we had no confirmation.”

  “It happened nearly thirteen years ago.” Sura s
poke from the edge of the garden.

  Leo was surprised by the strength of Sura’s hearing and wondered where Tenasserim’s power had manifested. Every angel had particular gifts. Barak, Kyra’s father, had been a listener. He’d been created to roam the heavens and the earth, acting as the ears of the Creator. Some of that preternatural hearing was passed to his offspring. It was possible Tenasserim’s power was similar. Or it was possible Sura had excellent natural hearing.

  Sura approached the table and bowed to them. “Forgive me. I was in the middle of performing a ritual on a brother.”

  “The Sak Yant?” Ginny asked.

  “Indeed.” He sat and folded his legs beneath him. “And we are complete. Five is better than four.”

  Alyah and Niran nodded.

  “You were asking about our father,” Sura continued. “He was very powerful. He also had very powerful enemies. I used those enemies to our advantage, informing my brothers Niran and Kanok of the plan only when it was already in progress.” Sura smiled at the brother who poured him a steaming cup of tea. “Kanok died in the fight. Tenasserim was killed. That is all you need to know.”

  Niran said, “Sura wears his modesty like a robe. It was he who killed our father. Not rival Grigori. His hand was the only one with the strength of will.”

  “And yet our brother was killed,” Sura said. “Let us not forget that.”

  Leo could see Sura blamed himself. “You freed your sisters,” he said. “Your brother’s sacrifice was a worthy one.”

  “I hope so.”

  Niran said, “There were six of them when our father died. One fell ill immediately after. She was already quite old, and Tenasserim never fed his daughters. She died shortly after he did.”

  Leo said, “What do you mean he didn’t ‘feed’ his daughters? They weren’t given any food?”

  Sura and Niran exchanged a look.

  “Our magic is not the same as yours,” Niran said.

  Sura said, “Five of our sisters were left. That was thirteen years ago. Now there are only four.”

  “There were almost three,” Niran said.

  Ginny asked, “What do you mean?”

  “It was something I wanted to ask about last night,” Sura said, “but we didn’t have time. There were two Irin scribes some months ago who drove through the village on the road to Chiang Rai. They saw our sister Prija and tried to abduct her.”

  Ginny said, “Oh, hell no.”

  Sura quickly raised a hand. “I do not want to be ungenerous,” he said. “It is possible they thought Prija was lost. She is not often lucid, and she can be quite dangerous if provoked.”

  Niran turned to Alyah. “She hurt them during the escape. She screamed and ran away, and the men appeared injured. They drove away, and we have not seen them again. But I need to know if the Bangkok house thinks it has the right to take our sisters.”

  “You will not have them,” Sura said quietly. He looked around the garden. “All this, it is temporary. If there is any threat against them, we will be gone, and you will never find us. I eluded a Fallen angel for a hundred years. A company of Irin is nothing to me.”

  Alyah said, “Leo informed me of this incident two nights ago, and I will inquire about any scribes who came through this area when I return to Bangkok. Please know, we have no desire to take your sisters if they are safe. Our mandate regarding them is broad, but we respect family. If you are keeping them safe and they want to stay with you, then that is their right.”

  Leo glanced at Ginny and suspected she had something to share, but the Irina remained silent, sipping her tea and letting Alyah talk.

  “If there is any training we can give them, we would be happy to do so,” Alyah said. “That is why my watcher sent me and not one of my brothers.”

  Niran looked at Leo.

  “He is here for his own reasons,” Alyah said.

  “I can guess what they are,” Sura said. “She is leading meditation with Intira this morning. That is why Kyra isn’t with us.”

  Niran’s eyes were sharp; Leo felt them like blades.

  “I would like the opportunity to speak with her when she finishes teaching,” he said.

  “What would an Irin scribe have to say to a kareshta?” Niran asked.

  “That is for Kyra to hear,” Leo said. “Not you.”

  Alyah was right. Niran wanted Kyra, but that was too damn bad in Leo’s opinion.

  He’d fallen for her first.

  Sura walked with Leo through the bamboo forest, deeper into the trees where deep shadows sheltered them from the sweltering heat of the afternoon sun. The houses in the forest were raised on bamboo platforms, simple structures open to the trees around them. He saw one set of eyes in a window he passed. They looked young and curious. Leo smiled.

  “Our sisters have been practicing with Kyra,” Sura said, “but they are still new. I hope you are keeping your thoughts as peaceful as possible.”

  “I’m trying,” Leo said. “I do have some practice with it. My watcher’s mate is Grigori, and she has also struggled. I have a tune I hum when she’s stressed.” Leo smiled. “It’s a Latvian lullaby. She claims it drives her crazy, but I know she likes it because she sings it to her babies.”

  Sura smiled. “I sing ‘When You Wish upon a Star’ in my head.”

  “That could get annoying too.”

  “It does.” The voice spoke in English from the steps of the house they’d just passed.

  Leo turned. Ah, there were the young eyes that’d been watching. He smiled at the cocky jut of the girl’s chin.

  “I’m Leo.”

  “I’m Intira.”

  The young kareshta girl Kyra said was so gifted. “I hear you are an excellent student.”

  “I am.” She kicked her foot idly against the steps. “Only so I don’t have to listen to Sura’s bad singing though.”

  Leo burst into laughter and heard a door open in the distance. He turned in the direction of the sound.

  Kyra.

  “Intira, who…?” She fell silent when she saw Leo.

  Kyra stood on the porch of her small cottage, her hair falling around her, wearing a flowing dress in a deep blue that matched the ocean. She looked like she’d just bathed. Her hair was damp and her face glowed.

  Leo walked toward her, forgetting about Sura and Intira. Forgetting about Niran, Alyah, and Ginny. He forgot about his responsibilities, Max’s warnings, and Kyra’s many vicious brothers.

  He saw Kyra and a door. And beyond that door, he saw privacy.

  Leo strode up the steps and grabbed her hand. “We need to talk.”

  Chapter Nine

  Before Kyra could object, Leo had spun her around, tugged her into the dim interior of her cottage, and slammed the door. She stood still, her mouth gaping, wondering what exactly had happened.

  “I… Hello,” she stammered. “I didn’t know you were—”

  “I have feelings for you,” Leo said without preamble. “Strong feelings.”

  Her mouth fell open, but no words came out.

  “I would like to talk about this,” Leo continued. “Can we do that?”

  Kyra had been raised in secrecy. Truth was suppressed and hidden. Thoughts were kept to oneself. If feelings existed, they were expressed in furtive glances and whispers. The goal of her life had been to remain as small as possible, as insignificant as she could be. Invisible.

  Silent.

  Leo’s desire to speak openly about his feelings was both thrilling and terrifying. Everything about Leo was both thrilling and terrifying.

  He put his hands on her shoulders and lowered his voice. “Kyra, please.”

  “I don’t know how…,” she started—cleared her throat—continued in a firmer voice. “I don’t know—”

  “We have known each other for several years,” he said. “Every time I see you, this attraction—which is not merely physical—grows. I want, Kyra. I want to know you. I want to see you. I want more every time we’re together, and yet you�
�”

  “You need to let me speak,” Kyra said quietly.

  Leo opened his mouth again. Then closed it. He nodded, then led her to the low cushions in the corner of the cottage where a small table sat. There were bolstered wedges and pillows for sitting and eating. He arranged the cushions carefully, side by side, then paused. He looked at her, then at the room. She saw him evaluating it with the eyes of a soldier, noting the layout, the doors and windows. Then he bent over and rearranged the cushions, putting them at an angle so both their backs were against the wall.

  Kyra realized Leo had rearranged the pillows so that both of them had equal access to the door.

  To make her feel safe.

  “I’ve never felt unsafe with you.” She had to force the words through her mouth. Every word felt like stripping off skin.

  He paused. “Even at the beginning?”

  “No. Just… cautious. You were something new.”

  He led her to the cushions and waited for her to sit. Then he sat on the other side, folding his long legs under him.

  “I’m very large,” he said. “Damien says if I’m not thinking about it, I mow through a room like an enthusiastic tank.”

  Kyra smiled. “I’ve never felt mowed down.”

  “I’m glad.”

  Kyra felt like her heart must be audible. They were alone. Utterly alone. She heard nothing from the outside, could hear only faint signatures from deeper in the forest. Be brave. It had been her mantra for the past three years. If she could survive among the Grigori and the Fallen, she could survive anything.

  Be brave.

  “When I was young,” she started, “scribes were things to fear. Our brothers would go out and not come back. We knew the scribes had killed them.”

  “Who is we?”

  “My other sisters.” She pushed past the feeling of exposure. These weren’t secrets anymore. Telling these stories wasn’t a betrayal. They were her past, not her present. “There were never many of us. The daughters. I wasn’t close to the others, not as I am with Kostas.”

 

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