The Silent

by Elizabeth Hunter

  “Not yet,” she whispered. “Later.”

  He paused, rolled to the other side of the bed, and gathered her into his arms. “Tell me why?”

  Kyra’s heart began to race, and Leo caressed her back with long, soothing strokes. She buried her face in his chest and breathed in his scent. Kyra knew, for the rest of her life—however long it was—the scent of Leo’s skin would be the most comforting thing in the world. Touching Leo’s skin, there was peace. Breathing him in, there was happiness. His arms made her safe. His kisses made her brave.

  Kyra took a deep breath and tried to explain. “Just watching you is overwhelming.”

  “Are you scared?”

  “Not of you,” she said. “Just… the unknown.”

  He bent down and whispered in her ear. “Have you ever touched yourself?”

  She shook her head.

  “Never, Kyra?”

  “I never felt alone,” she said. “There was never any privacy. And all the women who came to my father… What they did felt obscene. Dirty.”

  “Is what you did to me dirty?”

  “No,” she choked out. “It was beautiful.” She looked into his eyes. “You’re beautiful.”

  “So are you,” he said, smoothing a hand from her neck, down her back, and lightly over her bottom. “And everything we do together will be beautiful too.”

  She nodded and tried to regain her boldness.

  “Later.” Leo pressed her cheek to his chest. “Sleep, ana sepora. We’ve had a long day. Right now is the time to rest.”

  She woke to the sound of birds in the forest and a man snoring in her ear.

  Kyra’s eyes went wide.

  Oh yes. Leo was in her bed.

  Leo was… in her bed.

  And she’d done rather wonderful and brazen things to him in the middle of the night.

  She’d blame exhaustion, but that would be dishonest. She’d been wanting to touch him like that for… possibly years. Yes, years.

  And now… he was in her bed.

  He drew in a giant breath and shifted, turning toward her and snaking an ink-covered arm over her waist. He pulled her back and spread his hand over her belly, tucking her body into his. His chest pressed to her back. Her head rested on his arm. His hips snugged against her bottom as he arched and pressed…

  Good morning! It was back.

  Kyra’s eyes went wide, but Leo didn’t wake up. Apparently he could sleep that way with no problems. She wondered what happened if he rolled over. It was very hard and stiff. Would it break? That seemed painful.

  But the sleeping man wasn’t inclined to move. He rested with his face in her hair, breathing in and out with a happy rumble in his chest. His warm skin pressed against her back, and his hand rested on the soft skin of her belly.

  It was all rather wonderful.

  Kyra smiled and snuggled closer, enjoying the feel of Leo’s skin against hers. She was happy. Despite everything, she didn’t think she’d ever been happier.

  He took another deep breath and cleared his throat a little.

  “Good morning,” she whispered.

  A quiet grunt was the only response she received. Leo wasn’t a morning person. That knowledge made her smile too. What else would she learn about him that would be only for her?

  Leo lifted his arm from around her waist and put a heavy palm on her hip.

  Kyra sighed and closed her eyes. His hands always felt wonderful. He rubbed her hip up and down in long strokes, following the line from her knee up her thigh, over her hip, and dipping down to her waist. His fingers teased her ribs and then started the journey down again. He did it over and over until she felt liquid in his arms.

  Then he slid his hand up the inside of her leg, stopping at the juncture of her thighs.

  Kyra sucked in a breath. “Wait.”

  “Over your clothes.” His voice rumbled behind her. “That’s all. Just touching over your clothes.”

  Oh. That sounded nice. Leo always made her feel good. She relaxed.

  “Is that something you would like?” he asked.

  “Yes,” Kyra whispered.

  His fingers danced delicately over her inner thigh, nudging her legs wider as he explored her body like she’d explored his. His erection felt heavy at her back, but Leo didn’t move or press against her. He seemed solely focused on exploring the delicate and sensitive mound between her legs. She felt wetness pool, felt her body become heated and liquid. Leo kissed the back of her neck. Her ear. Her jaw.

  “So beautiful,” he whispered.

  His fingers ran over an excruciatingly sensitive point. Kyra’s breath caught, and Leo paused his movements.

  “There?” he asked softly.

  Kyra nodded.

  Leo used his legs to spread hers, nudging her onto her back as he kissed her. His hand dipped down to that aching point, then retreated. Dipped again. Retreated.

  “Leo?” Her breath was coming faster. Tension captured her spine and her breasts throbbed.

  “This is right,” he whispered. “Does it feel good?”

  “Yes. I don’t know. It aches.”

  He bent down and closed his mouth over the peaks of her breasts, over the thin cotton nightgown she wore to sleep. It felt so good. Kyra’s hand came to the back of Leo’s head and pressed him to her breast. “Keep doing that. Leo, please.”

  His hand didn’t stop stroking her as he teased her nipple. The pressure built. Her breath came faster.

  “So beautiful,” he whispered again, lifting his head to catch her eyes.

  She locked onto his gaze as her body started to tremble. Kyra felt utterly out of control. She held on to the edge, clutching for something familiar, something sane, some balance to grab.

  Leo smiled. “Let go, Kyra.”

  With a firmer touch, he pressed up and held her on the edge of a precipice… then her body broke. Kyra split open, shuddering with the most extreme pleasure she’d ever known. She cried out, and Leo captured her mouth, muffling the sounds of her climax with his kiss. He held her at the edge again, stroking her body into another jolting wave of pleasure. He covered her, his right arm lifting her as her legs drew up and her hand reached down, holding his left hand over that exquisite place. Pressing him closer, unwilling to let it end.

  He eased his movements but kept his hand in place. Her skin was damp when he pressed his lips to her forehead. Her cheeks. Her lips.

  “So sweet,” he whispered. “Kyra, it was beautiful.”

  She felt beautiful. She felt like she was glowing from the inside. Her livah and her manah radiated, mingling together as her heart and her mind, her soul and her body, leapt toward Leo. He held her close, warm and safe and exactly where she wanted to be.

  “What was that?” she finally managed to say.

  “That was an orgasm.”

  “That was an orgasm?”

  “Yes.” He nibbled her ear. “Did you like it?”

  “When can we do it again?”

  Leo laughed, and it was a very satisfied, very male, laugh. It bordered on smug. “We can do it every night if you want. And during the day when we have the time.” He leaned down and whispered, “It will be even better with your clothes off.”

  Her heart went galloping. “We may have to work up to that.”

  The sweet interlude in the morning carried Kyra through another day of worry and dread. Scribes from Bangkok arrived around ten in the morning, driven up to the temple by Alyah. Tension blanketed the courtyard as two scribes and two singers greeted Niran. Dara had sent her brother, Rith, to lead the group. Grigori monks ringed the courtyard, watching their leaders welcome the ones who had spent a lifetime learning how to kill them.

  No one looked pleased.

  Alyah stepped forward and bowed to Sura. “My friend.”

  “Your people are welcome here,” Sura said. “Our sisters have requested that only the Irina singers venture into the forest near the cottages. They would prefer the scribes stay in the more public areas of th
e temple compound.”

  Rith asked, “How are we supposed to guard them effectively if we can’t be near them?”

  Leo stepped forward. “The Irina are more than capable of assisting the guards Niran has already set in place, Rith. The scribes can help covering the temple and the village. There are already numerous fail-safes built in.”

  Rith grunted, but he didn’t say more.

  Niran watched the Irin survey the compound. Unlike Sura, he had not greeted anyone but Alyah. He caught the singer’s eye and strode back to the dining table in the garden where they had continued to plan their trip to retrieve Prija. They were hoping to leave that night and make it to the border town directly north of Chiang Mai where Kyra could do her first reading into the dense forests and remote valleys of Myanmar.

  Like the human government, passage through the remote country had been strictly limited for decades. There was little the Bangkok scribes knew about Myanmar. Most of the Grigori still called it Burma, and they knew more, but not as much as they’d like. Sura had the most knowledge regarding Arindam’s people, but even his knowledge was a decade old.

  They would take a small bus the Irin had rented in Chiang Mai, which should get them north of the border with little problem. The scribes in Bangkok had also assisted with papers for both Leo and Kyra, who would be scrutinized as Westerners. They were fortunate that the professional fight scene in Myanmar was popular and more and more foreigners were going there to train. Leo would be posing as a fighter traveling with a group of Thai professionals and their promoter. Kyra’s papers labeled her as Leo’s wife, which would mean they’d be sharing hotel rooms wherever they traveled.

  After that morning, Kyra found the idea extremely appealing.

  She nodded politely at the Bangkok scribes before she walked to the back garden, trying not to notice their stares. Leo came next to her, draping his arm over her shoulders.

  “They’re staring,” she said.

  “Because you’re so beautiful.”

  “Because you’re with me.”

  “Because they haven’t seen kareshta before.” He kissed the top of her head. “But truly, you are stunning this morning.”

  She felt heat touch her cheeks. “I think you’re biased.”

  “Wholly and completely,” he said. “But I’m not wrong.”

  “We’re going to be posing as husband and wife,” Kyra said.

  “Is that a problem?”

  “I’m hoping I can talk to Kostas and Sirius before someone tells them. Or sends them pictures.” Leo tensed, and Kyra paused, putting a hand on his chest. “I just want to tell my brothers first. Tell them we’re together so they know I’m okay. That I’m not being coerced. It’s not Sirius I’m concerned about; it’s Kostas of course.”

  “Does he think so little of me?” Leo asked. “After everything we have been through?”

  “I’m his sister.” She stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “He has watched over me always. He would be worried no matter who I am with.”

  “Me,” Leo returned the kiss. “Let him know. It will always be me.”

  She smiled. “Is that so?”

  “Yes.”

  “Hmm.” She started walking again.

  Kyra saw Alyah waving at Leo, a duffel bag in her hand. It probably contained the spare clothes he’d requested from his hotel room.

  “I should go talk to her,” Leo said. “There are a few details to sort before we go.”

  “You still haven’t told me what reshon means.”

  “Haven’t I?” Leo took her hand and kissed her palm. “Later.”

  “I’m going to say goodbye to my students.”

  Kyra walked back to her cottage to double-check the bag she’d packed. She wasn’t taking everything, but on the off chance she had to fly directly back to Europe from Myanmar, she didn’t want to leave anything essential. Halfway down the forest path, Intira, Bun Ma, and Kanchana stopped her. The little girl ran to Kyra’s open arms.

  “You’ll find her,” she said.

  “I will. I promise. Prija is so strong. They won’t be able to hurt her. She can defend herself.”

  Bun Ma said, “Sura said your hearing is very powerful. That you can hear over hundreds of kilometers.”

  “When I focus, I can. It wasn’t always a good thing, but after years of practice, I can use it better. And I’m going with Niran, Sura, Alyah, and Leo. Between all of us, we will find Prija and bring her back.”

  Bun Ma and Intira smiled, but Kanchana still looked skeptical.

  “I promise, Kanchana.”

  “I’m not worried you’ll find her,” Kanchana said. “Sura said this Fallen wanted to use her. Use Prija like a weapon.”

  Kyra nodded.

  “She might not want to come back. That’s what I am worried about. There’s so much darkness in her. If they let it out, she may not want to put it back.”

  “I know.”

  It was the single true fear Kyra shared about Prija, and she hadn’t spoken it aloud to the others, though she suspected Sura guessed her thoughts.

  Prija was dangerous and angry. Prija was powerful. Not all kareshta were good, even if parts of them wanted to be. Sometimes the voices didn’t whisper; they shouted. Kyra had lost more than one sister to the seduction of evil. Kostas had killed his own blood when they became a danger to others. Would Sura and Niran be capable of that? Would they be able to kill Prija if she fell too far into darkness?

  “Find her,” Intira said. “Save her. Prija wants to live more than any of us. I told her all about the night market and she wants to go there. She told me.”

  “Did she?” Kyra brushed a hand over Intira’s hair. “I will do everything in my power to bring her back. I promise you.”

  “Wait here!” Intira rushed off to her cottage and Kyra waited with Bun Ma and Kanchana.

  “There are two Irina singers here from Bangkok,” she told them. “They will be able to teach you things that I can’t. Ask questions.” She looked pointedly at Kanchana. “Make them answer you. They may be reluctant, but I know how persistent you are. Tell Intira to ask questions too. It’s hard to withhold answers from the young.”

  “I will, and I’ll tell her,” Kanchana said.

  Bun Ma had a shyer disposition, but there was nothing retiring about Kanchana. If anyone could bully the Irina into giving up some of their magic, it would be Kanchana’s persistence and Intira’s charm. Kyra felt for Bun Ma. She saw so much of her younger self in the woman who wanted to live a quiet, domestic life. Kyra had been forced into one crisis after another, but she hoped Bun Ma would get her wish. She would make a wonderful mate and mother if she ever found the right partner.

  “The scribes from Bangkok are also here,” Kyra said. “They may seem reserved, but Leo says they are good men. Alyah would not have chosen them otherwise. It would be good for them to meet you so they understand us more.”

  “And what about the foreign scribe, eh?” Kanchana lifted her eyebrows. “I think you are understanding each other better every night.”

  Bun Ma failed to hide her smile behind her hand, and Kyra’s face turned bright red.

  “He is very kind.”

  “He is very eager.” Kanchana pursed her lips. “If you like him, I like him. Make sure he treats you well. If he doesn’t, tell Sura.”

  “Not Niran?”

  “Sura,” Bun Ma said. “Always tell Sura.”

  Intira ran up, a length of fabric folded in her hands. “Give this to Prija to bring her home.”

  Kyra took the fabric. It was a handwoven length of cloth, designed to be hung on a wall or pieced into a jacket. “Intira, this is beautiful. Did you make this?” Kyra knew Bun Ma had been teaching the girl how to weave as part of her meditation practice, but she had no idea her weaving was so advanced.

  “Yes.” Intira jumped up and down. “Give it to Prija and she’ll come home.”

  Kyra looked at the fabric. Clusters of knots were worked into colored lines that ran
the length of the fabric. At first she thought they were stars, but then she realized it was far more regular than stars. This was a system or code of some kind.

  “Intira, what is this?” Kyra looked at Bun Ma and Kanchana, but both of them looked as mystified as she was.

  The girl was still jumping up and down. “Prija will know. She’ll know, Kyra. Just show it to her. Tell her I figured it out, but she has to come back so I can finish.”

  Only half the fabric was knotted. While the bottom half of the piece was beautifully woven, it lacked the knots on the top half. Kyra had so many questions, but she knew Intira loved her surprises, and she’d never tell before she was ready.

  “She’ll know what this is?” Kyra asked, holding out the weaving.

  “Mm-hmm!” Intira nodded. “She’ll know.”

  “Okay.” She carefully folded the woven panel. “I’ll give it to her.”

  “And tell her I’m only going to finish if she comes back.”

  “I’ll tell her,” Kyra said. She opened her arms, and Intira ran to her, giving her a swift hug before she ran back to the forest, her ever-present brothers jogging behind her.

  “That girl is spoiled,” Kanchana said.

  “That girl is precious.” Bun Ma held out her hands. “Let me see it?”

  Kyra handed Bun Ma the weaving.

  “This is very good,” Bun Ma said. “But so different from anything I make. She’ll progress past me within a few years.”

  “She’s too bright to keep here,” Kanchana said. “But where would she go?”

  “If she had more magic,” Kyra said, “she could go anywhere. Anywhere at all.”

  Prija III

  She sat in the back of a windowless van. Her captors were not intelligent, but they were stronger than her. They tried to torment her by forcing skin contact—no doubt thinking it would have a detrimental effect on her psyche—but Prija didn’t react. She stared straight ahead and tried to give every appearance of being unaware.

  Silent.

  She was good at being silent.

  But of course she was aware. She was aware of everything.

  They were in Myanmar now. She could hear the language change when they stopped for petrol. Feel the roads grow rougher. They spent one night at a Grigori outpost, but the men there wanted nothing to do with these combative sons of Arindam and the Irin scribe who skulked in the background.