“Yes.”
“Go. And do not bother telling your father where I dwell. By the time you leave my city, this house will be gone.”
“I understand.”
Brage left the house quickly and drove toward Budapest, more confused than ever.
“I know what he is doing…”
What was Volund’s plan? Brage was reminded of his early years as a soldier. The years just before the Irina slaughter had been like this. Mixed messages and mysterious errands. Half-truths and outright lies. He’d understood nothing until the order had come from the oldest soldiers in their house in Berlin. They were leaving the city for some tiny village in the country. They slaughtered women and children, ripping out their throats so they were defenseless.
He’d told himself it was no different from killing humans.
He still told himself that.
“If he thinks I will roll over as Jaron did in Istanbul, he is mistaken.”
He tried to drive the doubt from his mind. Volund would sense it. Doubt was death to the Fallen. Nothing was accepted but utter and complete loyalty. After all, there were hundreds of brothers waiting to take his place if he stumbled.
Brage would not stumble.
A chirp from his mobile phone. It was the number for one of the Grigori who ran Volund’s house.
“Yes?”
“Our father has a message for you.”
“What is it?”
“Come to the house in Göteborg immediately. He will meet you there.”
Brage stopped the protest on his lips. The scribe was in Budapest, he was sure of it. To pull him away now—
“Do you understand?” his brother asked.
It didn’t matter. He was a weapon, nothing more. Volund’s to command, like the blade Brage wore under his shirt.
“I understand. I will be on a plane tonight.”
Chapter Fifteen
His roar of frustration finally brought a pounding at the door. Malachi had been pacing for hours. It was the middle of the night, but somewhere his mate was in danger. Someone had attacked her. He’d woken from his dream with sweat pouring from him, his heart racing, and adrenaline pumping through his system. He’d bolted from the bed, ready for battle.
But there was nothing to do.
He was in one of the secured guest rooms at Gabriel’s townhouse. Leo was in the room next to him. They’d followed Damien’s brother-in-law there after their meeting.
“How did you know? Who told you?”
“Evren called me when he found some information he thought you should know. He knew my father, and he trusts me. You really ought to be better about checking your messages, Leo.”
“What—?”
“It has to do with Ava’s father. And… an impossibility that is looking more possible all the time.”
Gabriel had tucked them into his black chauffeured car and hidden Malachi and Leo away in his spacious home. Gabriel, along with being Konrad’s right hand, was a financier in the city and had accumulated more than his share of wealth. They’d left a message for Rhys to meet them there. As much as Malachi distrusted everything around him, Leo was certain that Gabriel was an ally. Max—who seemed to know just about everyone—confirmed it.
Leo called, “Malachi?”
He said nothing. He couldn’t stop the animalistic growl that left his throat. She was out there, and he had no power to help her. He didn’t even know where she was. Every night since he’d realized his dreams were more than dreams, he went to sleep commanding himself to ask her where she was. To tell her that he was alive. Truly alive. And every night, his mind hazed and he could focus only on her. The outside world fell into shadow. His conscious demands drifted away.
The pounding came again.
“Malachi.” It was Gabriel. “Open the door, or I will break it.”
Something in the scribe’s voice told Malachi he wasn’t joking. He opened the door.
Leo and Gabriel stood there, both dressed in pajamas, both with clenched fists.
“What the—”
“She’s in danger.”
Gabriel’s eyes narrowed. “How do you know?”
“I know! We were there, in the dream, and I felt it. Like a shadow surrounding us. Then it came closer. It was searching for her. For Ava.”
“Where?” Gabriel stepped into the room. “Where were you?”
“In the dreams…” The truth tumbled from his lips. “I’ve been dreaming. Well, I thought they were dreams at first, but they’re not.” He held out his arm. “She sings to me and they grow. She’s… healing me. But I can’t talk to her. It’s so—”
“Dreamy?” Gabriel raised an eyebrow. “Yes, I could have told you. That’s how the dream walks work.”
“Dream walking?” Leo slapped his forehead and followed Gabriel into Malachi’s room. “Of course! Why didn’t I think of it? She’s his mate! How could I be so stupid?”
“Since you’ve never been mated, it probably wouldn’t be the first thing you thought of.” Gabriel sat on the bench near the foot of the bed and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “And there was no way of knowing how Malachi’s death would affect their bond. Tell me more details. Well… not all the details. But there might be clues.”
“Are you listening to me?” Malachi said. “She is in danger!”
“And there is absolutely nothing you can do about it,” Gabriel said, rising to his feet. “It’s frustrating, isn’t it? To know that your mate is threatened. To know her fear. Her panic.”
“You have no idea.”
“I have every idea.” The cold words cut through the room, reminding all of them that Gabriel had lost his mate, Tala. Damien had taken her into battle, and she had perished.
Gabriel continued in his chilling voice. “But there’s nothing you can do for her right now. If she was dead, you would feel it.”
“Does it hurt?” The fire went out of Malachi’s belly. The pain twisted in his chest. “When I died, did it hurt her?”
He wasn’t sure whether or not Gabriel would even answer. But the scribe raised his chin and said, “Yes. It hurts. Physically. Emotionally. If she was gravely injured, you would feel it. Not in an incapacitating way, but you would know. Do you feel anything like that?”
“No.”
“Then she was in danger, but the danger has passed. Tell me about your dreams.”
He could feel the heat in his cheeks and Gabriel gave him a knowing look. “We don’t talk much.”
“That’s normal. Most Irin couples who are physically parted don’t spend their dream walks in conversation.”
The three men settled into seats near the fireplace. Clearly, sleep was a memory.
“Why can’t I ask her questions?” Malachi asked. “Every night, I go to sleep, and I tell myself I will ask her where she is. But when the dream starts…”
Gabriel crossed his arms and took a deep breath. “I’ve heard it said by scholars far more intelligent than me that the Forgiven gave Irin mates their ability to dream walk in order to feed the soul. It is not conscious life, though it still feeds us physically. Otherwise, our tactile need for each other when we were separated would become a liability.”
“So even though I’m away from her, I’m still caring for her?” It helped. To know that he was at least doing something.
Gabriel nodded. “She’s probably sleeping better than most widowed mates would. She’d be more calm. Centered. Physically, she will be stronger because of the walks.”
“But why can’t I ask her anything? Why can’t I ask here where she is, like I always tell myself to.”