Rhys said, “Who is the watcher of Istanbul? The same scribe for the last two hundred years, Lang! Damien, of course.”
“Sarihöfn… Sari’s haven? Is that what you’re talking about?” Malachi asked, slowly stepping toward Lang. “Do you know where she is?”
“I don’t know what business you have with Sari, but—”
“For heaven’s sake, Lang!” Rhys broke in. “You know Damien. Think! You know I’ve been serving under him. I am looking for my watcher, and I don’t understand why the hell you’re being so…”
It was a little sound that stopped him. Such a little sound, Malachi thought, to stop six grown men from almost coming to blows. A delicate sound, drifting from the warmth of the open door.
A child’s laughter.
A girl child’s laughter.
Lang barked out, “Close the door!”
But before he did, Rhys and Leo had both stepped forward.
“Who are you guarding, Lang?” Rhys asked. “What is going on here?”
“Can I trust you?” he asked Rhys.
“I can’t believe you’re even asking that.”
“Yes,” Malachi said. “You can trust us. All of us. We’re looking for Damien. I need to find him.”
“Why? I don’t even know your name, scribe.”
Malachi took a deep breath and fought the roar of anger that burned in his chest. “My name is Malachi of Sakarya. I am a bound scribe of Istanbul. And I am looking for Damien, because he is guarding my mate.”
“Your mate?”
Rhys said, “They met in Istanbul. Were mated there. Volund’s Grigori overran the city, and Damien took Malachi’s woman to Sari to keep her safe. But we need to find her. We need to find them both. That is the only reason we are here.”
Leo said, “Though I’d like to know who exactly you’re guarding behind those doors, Lang. That was no scribe’s laughter.”
“It is none of your concern.”
Rhys asked, “What do you know of Sarihöfn?”
“What is Sarihöfn?” Lang asked with a blank look on his face.
Malachi forced himself not to assault the scribe. “Why do you refuse to help us? What are you afraid of?”
The dark scribe who guarded the door stepped forward, putting a hand on Lang’s shoulder before he could lunge at Malachi. He was just as tall as Lang, but with an even broader build. “My name is Jeremiah,” he said, his accent marking him as American. “You must forgive our caution, but we do have reason. Lang—all of us—received a shock a few days ago when my mate returned from Sari’s haven, saying it had been compromised. We don’t know more than that.”
“Sari’s home has been compromised?” Leo asked. “When? How?”
“The Irina are here?” Malachi asked, his heart racing.
“Only a few,” Jeremiah held up a hand. “My mate, along with a widowed Irina and her child. They are only passing through the city.”
“We don’t know the details,” Lang said. “We’ve known Sari’s haven was somewhere in the Nordfjord region for centuries. Jeremiah and one other scribe had mates who sheltered there while they worked in the city.”
“You’ve been there?” Rhys asked Jeremiah.
“No. Chelsea and I met in other locations when we could. Away from the city and the haven. It was the safest way for her and the others.”
Lang said, “None of us—not even me—knew the location. The younger scribes didn’t even know it existed.”
“Vienna had no idea?” Leo asked cautiously.
“No,” Jeremiah said. “The havens are secret for a reason. They are the last places the Irina feel safe.”
“Vienna didn’t need to know,” Lang said. “The council would have the remaining Irina forced back into retreats and breeding like livestock. I would guard Sari’s location with my life, were it necessary. Any of the havens.”
“We have no quarrel with you,” Leo said. “I only ask because we are avoiding the council’s attention, as well.”
Jeremiah and Lang exchanged looks, and Malachi felt some of the tension lessen between them.
Lang said, “We have had no word from Istanbul. Your house burned in a Grigori attack?”
“We have had little news of any kind from Vienna,” Jeremiah said. “When did this happen?”
“Months ago,” Rhys said. “We know it was reported to the council, but someone is keeping it quiet.”
Leo stepped forward and said, “Please, brother, does the fire still burn in this house?”
The ancient plea for hospitality must have moved the watcher and his scribes. Or perhaps they were as cold as Malachi. Lang exchanged a look with both the men at his side, but especially Jeremiah, who gave a small nod.
“Yes,” he finally said. “The fire still burns for our brothers. You may shelter here.”
Malachi and Rhys responded at once. “We offer our strength to defend this house.”
“Your offer is accepted.”
Lang opened the door and let them in.
“I don’t know what to think,” Lang said, his shoulders slumping a little as the four scribes warmed themselves by a large fire in the front room. Jeremiah and the other scribe, who introduced himself as Ari, had retreated to the back of the house.
“Why did you call for help from London?”
“The Grigori have been swarming the city. In the last week, we’ve had a rush of attacks. I have six scribes here at the house, and they’ve all been patrolling every night, yet we’re still losing human women to the attacks. Then a few nights ago, Jeremiah’s mate, Chelsea, arrived with the other Irina, so I’ve kept Jeremiah and Ari here at the house guarding them while the others are out trying to cover even more territory. We’re overwhelmed.”
“So you called to London?” Rhys asked. “Stockholm would be the closest house, wouldn’t it?”
“We normally have a good relationship with Stockholm house, but for some reason, they haven’t returned my e-mails or calls as they normally would. Something is going on, but I don’t have anyone to send to them.”
“So you called London. They said they were sending help?”
Lang nodded. “Then, when Chelsea showed up, I almost considered calling them back and canceling, but I know the Watcher in London. We’ve… discussed some of the council debates in Vienna, and we’re of the same mind. I thought I could trust him. I hope I can, especially with Irina here now. Forgive me, Rhys. I didn’t want to be suspicious, but you have to understand how—”
“Please.” Rhys raised a hand. “Your brother’s mate brought others here for safety, including a child. Extra caution is understandable.”
“There is no need to apologize,” Leo added.
Malachi asked, “Did Chelsea say what was happening with the other Irina who’d been at Sarihöfn? Did she know where any were going?”
“She didn’t. I’m sure the less each knew about the others’ actions, the safer they all were. She did say Sari was staying back with her mate and a few others to secure the compound before they moved.”
Leo turned to Malachi. “I’m sure Ava would stay with them. Damien wouldn’t let her leave without him.”
“Ava? Is that your mate’s name?” Lang asked. There was a frown on his face.
“Yes, that is my mate’s name. Why?”
Lang was still frowning. “That name seems familiar.”
Rhys, Leo, and Malachi exchanged looks.
“Jeremiah?” Lang called.
They heard footsteps, then Jeremiah’s head popped around the corner. “Yes?”
“The American Irina. The one Brooke and Candice were talking about. What was her name?”
“Um… Ana? No, Ava. It was Ava.” Jeremiah’s eyes swung to Malachi. “Is she your mate? No, she can’t be.”
Lang asked, “Why not? How many Irina named Ava would be at Sarihöfn? It has to be her.”
“No…” Jeremiah stepped into the room, suspicion clear on his face. “Brooke said that Ava was widowed. That she was grieving her mate.”
Lang sprang to his feet and Rhys stood to meet him, holding up his hands.
“There was a mistake. He’s not lying. Malachi is her mate, but he’s not dead. It’s… hard to explain.”
“Try,” Jeremiah said. “Because if he is truly her mate then she would know beyond a shadow of a doubt if he was living or dead. That is not something any Irin could confuse.”