The Secret

by Elizabeth Hunter

  “No Internet up here, baby girl. And I’m not sure where that phone is.” He looked around, and Ava could see his eyes were bloodshot. Hard nights. He’d been having hard nights. She was surprised he was up and playing early with eyes like that.

  Jasper had called her “baby girl” as long as she could remember. When Ava was a child, it had seemed a sweet endearment from a man she thought of as an uncle. It was only later, when she’d learned he was her biological father, that it had become the poignant reminder of how much he’d missed by being absent for so much of her life.

  He’d stayed as close to her as Lena would allow and often crashed at their house in LA when she was growing up. It was to her stepfather’s credit that the man hardly batted an eye. Then again, when it came to running the house, what Lena Matheson said was law. And she never gave Carl any reason to doubt that Jasper and Lena’s romantic relationship was firmly in the past.

  She patted his cheek. “You gotta keep your phone on, Jasper.”

  He winked at her and pulled out the pack of cigarettes he kept in his pocket. “But then everyone would call me. Maybe I need to get a phone only you have the number to.”

  “Might not be a bad idea,” Malachi said behind her.

  She turned to see Malachi watching them with wary eyes. She stood up and held out a hand for his.

  “Jasper, this is Malachi. He’s not a bodyguard.”

  “He’s not? You brought your guy to meet me, Ava?” Her father looked strangely touched. “Really?”

  “Yeah.” She knit her hands with Malachi’s, but his fingers were tense. Odd. Maybe he was worried. “Malachi’s my—”

  “Fiancé,” he said. “Ava and I are getting married.”

  She turned to him and mouthed, We are?

  He shrugged and turned his eyes back to her father.

  “Damn, Ava.” Jasper blinked, and Ava saw his eyes were wet. “Really? You’re getting married? Your mom didn’t tell me.”

  “We just decided a little while ago.” Ava decided to go with it. It was probably the easiest way for her mom and Jasper to understand what role Malachi would play in her life. She didn’t care about getting married, but her mom would. “Mom doesn’t know yet.”

  Jasper cackled. “You better tell her. She’ll be pissed if you don’t. I’ll wait to call her. Malachi, huh?” He stood and offered a hand. “Nice to meet you, man. Cool name.”

  “Thank you.” Malachi shook his hand. “Nice to meet you too. Ava has spoken of you.”

  “I’d say it’s all lies, but she’s too honest, so I’ll just offer a general apology for all past behavior.” He sat down and looked around the garden. “Where’d they go?”

  Ava thought he looked pretty good for being on a bender. But then, there was a reason she’d chosen to visit in the morning.

  “Jasper, I wanted to ask—”

  “Sit down!” He waved to the chairs across from him and craned his neck toward the house. “Sit. Those girls were just here. Gotta get you guys some coffee. Where’d you two meet? Malachi, you drink coffee?”

  Ava sat. “We met in Istanbul. I was there on a job and Malachi—”

  “You’re Turkish, man?” Jasper drew on the cigarette again and nodded. “I can see it. Cool. Yeah. So what do you do, Malachi-with-the-cool-name?”

  Ava barely caught the edge of suspicion in Jasper’s eyes. It was odd for him to be protective, but then, she’d never brought a boyfriend to meet him. Never really had a boyfriend stick around long enough to matter.

  “I’m in private security,” Malachi said smoothly. It was a practiced lie; he’d implied the same thing to her when they first met. She supposed, in a way, it was true.

  “Fuck,” Jasper said with a snort. “I thought you said he wasn’t a bodyguard, Ava?”

  “Maybe I should have said he wasn’t just a bodyguard.”

  Jasper laughed.

  “Hey, they’re the only guys who ever stick around,” she said wryly.

  “Carl didn’t hire him, did he?”

  “No.”

  “Good. All the guys Carl ever hired had a stick up their ass. Of course, Carl does too. So that’s not really a surprise.”

  “Jasper…”

  “Kidding. Kinda.” He grinned at Malachi, who still sat silently, his expression a careful blank.

  Malachi said, “I work for a private international firm based in Vienna. But I take my own assignments.”

  “So Ava’s your assignment now?” Jasper’s eyes were keen on Malachi.

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Too many sick fuckers in the world.” He lit another cigarette and looked toward the kitchen where one of the maids was bringing out another French press filled with coffee and two more cups. “Ah, there she is. And Ava, I never liked you hoppin’ around all over the place.”

  “Yeah, you’re one to talk.”

  “I speak from experience.” He nodded toward Malachi. “I guess if you’re gonna do it, good you have someone with you.”

  “Thanks. Jasper—”

  “Hey.” He interrupted her again while he waved the maid away and poured the coffee. “I wanted to talk to you about the Malibu house.”

  “You mean your house?”

  “No. It’s your house. It’s been in your name for over a year now.”

  “Jasper, I already have—”

  “Move your stuff from Lena’s place. Live there when you’re in LA. You can consider it my wedding present, if you want. But you need your own base, baby girl. Not a crash pad.”

  He refused to meet her eyes. It was an old argument, and one Ava didn’t feel like having again. Jasper had already given her too much. The trust fund alone was in the multimillions. He had more money than God and was constantly trying to give her things. Cars. Jewelry. Houses. She didn’t want that stuff. Didn’t need it.

  “I don’t need a big house. I can stay with Mom when I’m in California.”

  He gave her his worried look. “This place—have you even been there?”

  “Luis sent me pictures.”

  “It’s quiet, Ava. I picked it myself. Secluded. Lots of acreage. Overlooks the ocean. You know…” He glanced away again. “Quiet. I know you need that.”

  And there it was. The knowledge she’d been skirting around ever since she’d found the Irin. Found the real reason she heard those voices in her head. Jasper had been one of the few she’d never had to hide around. She’d known, even as a child, that the man who heard beautiful music in his head—was tormented by it at times—would understand the isolated girl she’d been.

  Jasper had known all along. Somehow, he’d known.

  “Jasper.”

  His hand shook as he lifted the cigarette. He was getting worse before her eyes. The demons were waking up despite the warm Italian sun and the peaceful garden.

  “Just take the house, Ava. I want to give it to you.”

  “Dad—”

  “I told you”—his eyes flared as they met hers, a flash of gold behind the brown—“you don’t have to call me that. I mean, you can, but… you don’t have to. I never expected that. I know I wasn’t…”

  There was something going on. She felt Malachi’s hand tighten on hers. “Jasper, I need to ask about your family. My family.”

  His face went out of focus for a second. When she blinked, it was back to normal. A trick of light and shadow. For a second, his skin had appeared luminous.

  Jasper’s voice was harder when he answered. “I told you I don’t know much about them. Foster care, remember?”

  He was lying. Ava knew it. She opened her senses to listen to his soul’s voice.

  Jasper’s voice was the other reason Ava had always trusted him, even as a child. Though not as pure as Malachi’s, it nonetheless had a resonance that had been soothing to her as a child. Jasper’s voice had always made her feel safe. She’d put it down to him being an artist. He created beautiful music; why wouldn’t it resonate from his mind?

  Now that voice sounded broken. Hal
ting.

  “Malachi,” Jasper asked the man at her side. “You have family?”

  “I did. My parents are both dead now.”

  A hollow longing tone rang in his mind. “Sorry to hear that. My mom died when I was young.”

  A lie. Ava was positive.

  Jasper continued, “That’s why I don’t know much about my family, you know? She was alone.” He glanced at Ava. “On her own. Glad… I’m glad Ava met you.”

  Ava leaned forward. “Jasper, I wanted to know—”

  “Nothing to know.” He leaned toward her and cupped her face in his hands. “Beautiful girl. Beautiful Ava.” His thumb brushed across her cheek. His fingers, thickly callused from years of playing, were warm. “You got a good guy now. I know he is. Because you’d never settle for less. And you’re gonna get married. Maybe even have kids someday. And you’ll be a kick-ass mama, ’cause that’s what you had. A kick-ass mama. I haven’t done a lot right in my life, but the one thing was picking a hell of a good woman to have my kid. So don’t worry about the past. Look to the future, baby girl. Don’t look for ghosts.”

  He knew. He knew something, but he wouldn’t tell her. Maybe he thought she was prying, but she knew there was something; otherwise, why would he lie about it?

  “Dad, why won’t you tell me?”

  He closed his eyes, and his voice was hoarse. “About what?”

  “About your mother.” She took a deep breath. “About Ava.”

  He drew back as if he’d been burned. “Who told you that?”

  “I did,” Malachi said. “We know your mother was named Ava, Mr. Reed. And we know that you made the records of her disappear. Why did you do that?”

  A trick of the light again, and the scent of sandalwood and ash on the breeze. Ava sucked in a breath and it was gone. What was going on? Her father looked angry. Jasper was never angry with her. At himself? Often. But never with her.

  “Jasper?”

  “You had your man check up on me? Who’s the ‘we’ he’s talking about, huh?” He shook out another cigarette. “What the hell, Ava?”

  “It was… I was curious—”

  “You don’t need to be curious about that shit. You don’t need to know about my maman.”

  She saw Malachi tilt his head at the word.

  Ava asked again, “Your mother? Maman? Is that French? Was she French, Jasper?”

  He lit the cigarette with shaking hands. “I’m done. I’m not talking about this. Will you move into that damn house or not?”

  “Jasper, I need to know.”

  “No, you don’t. And I’m not talking about her.” He lit the cigarette, and when his eyes met hers again, he was totally shut down. She knew she’d get nothing out of him.

  “Dad—”

  “I fucking hate,” he whispered, “that you call me dad when you want something from me, Ava. Fucking hate that. I’d rather you call me Jasper. Rather you call me dickhead or bastard or one of the million names you probably thought over the years. I’d rather you call me any of that shit than call me dad just to… to get something from me.”

  The anger was always there, though she pushed it down. Forced it back. Chose to treasure what they had and what they could become. But it was always there. The lack of him simmered in her blood.

  “I never wanted money,” she said from behind clenched teeth. “Or houses. Or cars. Or anything, Jasper. I never wanted any of that stuff. But this? The one thing I’ve ever asked you. This you won’t give me?”

  He fingered the cigarette in his hand and reached for his coffee. Put it down.

  “Ruben!” he yelled.

  “Jasper, please.”

  Malachi stood up and moved behind her, but Ava stayed sitting, staring at her father, begging him to meet her eyes.

  Ruben walked around the side of the house. “Yeah, boss?”

  “Please, Dad.”

  Jasper ignored her. “Ava and her fiancé need to go. And find me a bottle of Grey Goose.”

  She shook her head.

  “Unbelievable,” Malachi said.

  “Congratulations,” Jasper said, lifting his eyes to her mate. “I’m fucking thrilled for her. And I can see how much you love her just by looking at you. I can see shit like that. I love her too. I know she’s pissed at me right now, but she’s the best thing in my life, and I’d do anything to protect her.”

  Malachi squeezed her shoulder and said, “Maybe the way to protect her is by telling her whatever you’re trying to hide.”

  “She may think that, but she’d be wrong.”

  Her father’s eyes finally met hers, and the haunted look was back. It was the look he wore sometimes when he looked at her mother. At her. The tormented part of Jasper Reed knew how much he’d lost by not being a good man. It was the same part that locked himself away from the world for months at a time and wrote some of the most achingly beautiful music Ava had ever heard.

  “Love you, baby girl,” he said to her. “Gonna work on your song when I get back to the studio. Promise.”

  As if she hadn’t heard that promise a million times. There must be a dozen different versions at this point. She had never heard a single one.

  “Sure. Right.” She stood and took Malachi’s hand. “Bye, Jasper. Take care of yourself.”

  Ava walked away from the man who had fathered her without looking back. She held Malachi’s hand the whole time.

  HE’D spent the hour since her unsuccessful meeting with Jasper holding her on the small couch in their hotel room. He hadn’t said anything. Hadn’t offered any words of comfort or anger or frustration, though she could tell he was worried.

  Her concentration was strained, her emotions were strung out, and Ava was exhausted. Malachi’s voice slipped through. Before she’d been able to shield herself, his voice sat in the back of her mind constantly. But like her father’s, it was more like a steady background music than a jarring intrusion.

  Reshon.

  Soul mate.

  “Imagine a person created for you. Another being so in tune with you that their voice was the clearest you’ve ever heard in your mind.”

  It was a voice that had come to mean everything to her.

  And then it was gone.

  Silence.

  And for the first time, silence had made her scream.

  For a time after he’d come back, Ava worried she wouldn’t be able to hear Malachi as she had before.

  She thought she’d lost him forever. Lost that connection forever.

  Bit by bit, she was taking down the wall she erected around her heart and her mind. His voice slipped through more and more often.

  In that moment, his voice hummed with concern. With love. But there was a dark thread that kept coming back over and over again.

  Grigori.

  “Why are you thinking about the Grigori?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Your head keeps whispering it. Over and over. Grigori.”

  “I didn’t realize. I’m sorry. Have your shields grown weak?” He put a hand on her shoulder, drew something there, and she immediately felt the surge of energy.

  “Don’t do that without warning me,” she said, blinking as her heart sped.

  “Sorry.”

  “They were a little weak, but—”

  “Your father, Ava. I was thinking about your father. I don’t understand him.”

  “I know. He’s not much of a dad, but I knew that already.”

  “No, I mean, he’s something…”

  She turned when he stopped speaking. “What?”

  “Don’t pull away. I need to feel you.” He slid his hand over her forearm to clasp her fingers. “He’s other, Ava. He’s not human. Not one hundred percent, anyway.”

  “But…” She frowned. “What do you mean? I mean, we figured he had some Irin blood, so why were you thinking Grigori? He’s not… you’re not thinking—”

  “Your father is not Grigori. He doesn’t smell it. Doesn’t look it. But he’s not human either.”


  She paused. “It’s hard to wrap my brain around that when he’s always just been Jasper.”

  “There is nothing ‘just’ about Jasper.”

  “Why do you say—”

  “Think about it. He’s in remarkable health, despite his lifestyle. He looks extremely young for his age.”

  “And he’s a musical genius,” she said. “Rhys said a lot of Grigori offspring are gifted in music. But he’s not Grigori. You said so.”

  “No.” Malachi sighed. “Rhys suspected bipolar disorder, and I’m tempted to think the same thing.”

  “And my mom would agree with you. To be fair, that might have nothing to do with Irin blood. A lot of artists have the same problems he does with depression and addiction. Hell, the whole world thought I was crazy for years.”

  “And you’re Irina. So what does that make him?”

  “Malachi, I don’t—”

  “He’s not Irin,” Malachi said, turning her so that she faced him but still holding on to her arm. “He’s not… anything I’ve ever encountered. How long were he and your mother together?”

  “Awhile. Not a long while, but long for him.” Ava searched her memory. “Months, I think. A few months.” Which fit with her pattern of relationships before she’d met Malachi. Her longest relationship had been in the three-month range.

  “An Irin scribe could never be with a human for that long.”

  “But he’s not human, either.” She thought about the odd flashes she’d had of him. The strange scent in the air. The gold in his eyes.

  “There was something,” she said. “Something new. I’ve never noticed it before, but—”

  “You never knew what you were before.”

  She turned to him. “Do you think my dad has magic?”

  “I think so, but it’s not obvious.” He frowned at the wall. “It’s… covered.”

  “What?”

  “It’s like his power was covered. That’s the way it felt to be near him. Sort of like you in your dreams.”

  “The same as my dreams?” She sat up straight. “Exactly the same?”

  Malachi narrowed his eyes. “Yes.”

  “Do you think Jaron is shielding me and my dad?”

  Malachi paused in thought. She could hear his inner voice going crazy. Words tumbled through his mind in a rush.