Page 51 of The Scribe (Irin Chronicles 1)

“How long was I sleeping? After we…” She glanced at Malachi. “You know.”

Malachi ignored her embarrassed flush. “I carried you back from the island yesterday afternoon. I thought you’d wake up after a while, but I think I underestimated your exhaustion.”

“So I’ve been out of contact for over a day?” Ava pushed his hand away and scooted to the edge of the bed. “Where’s my phone? I have to call my mom and let her know I’m not dead, or she and Carl will be sending out the commandos.”

Malachi went to his desk and opened a drawer. “So youdidcall them the other night. Is that where you got the gun?”

“Carl sent it.” Ava glanced at Damien, who was watching her like she was some curious animal at the zoo. “I…” She sighed. “I don’t know what to tell her. Last I talked to them, I was convinced you guys were part of some international conspiracy to kidnap me.”

Damien murmured, “You might not be far off.”

“What does that mean? Does this have something to do with the Grigori guys you were talking about? What’s a Grigori?”

Malachi handed her the phone. “There are others related to our kind who are after you. We’re not sure why, but it cannot be good.”

“Supernatural bad guys? Of course there are supernatural bad guys.” She threw up her hands. “I mean, you don’t get superheroes without supervillains, right?”

“I wouldn’t call them super,” Damien said with a frown. “But they do have an interest in you.” He rose. “I need to call Vienna. Malachi, can I see you in the hall for a moment?”

Malachi glanced at Damien, then back to her. “I’ll be right back.”

“And I’ll call my mom.” She waved her phone. “I guess I’ll tell her… something.”

By the timeMalachi returned to the room, Ava had ended the call with her mother after spinning a very elaborate story about Malachi and the old bodyguard miscommunicating. About how, really, it had all been a huge misunderstanding, and Ava was fine, and it had all worked out for the best.

Because she and Malachi were now involved in a whirlwind romance.

If there was anything that could distract Lena Matheson, it was speculating about her daughter’s love life. Plus, Ava figured that it would keep her mom from calling too often if she was daydreaming about the nonexistent grandchildren Ava might someday give her when she found “the right man.”

She had the book open again, staring at the entwined couple, tracing the edges of the page and remembering the way that Malachi’s touch had lit her skin from within.

“Ava?” His voice was soft and solemn.

“Hey.”

“How is your mother?”

“Happy, actually. I convinced her that it was all a misunderstanding, and we’re now involved in a torrid affair. That’ll distract her.” She kept her eyes on the book. Now that they were alone, she didn’t know how to act around him. She craved his touch, but the craving put her on edge. Was it natural? Normal? If he was really part of some supernatural race, could he make her feel things she wouldn’t otherwise feel? Her heart told her Malachi was trustworthy, but a lifetime of rejection warned her to be cautious.

Malachi said, “That would have distracted my mother, too.”

There was a strange sort of sadness in his tone. A tone that told her, somehow, in the moments they’d been apart, something delicate had shifted. He stood a little farther back, and a shadow tinged his voice.

“Your mom…” She lifted the corner of the page and tried to pretend the shadow wasn’t there. “She’s…”

“She was Irina. Our women are called Irina.”

“Ah. And you think I’m one of them.” Her finger trailed lightly over the gold leaf on the woman’s skin, illuminated just as hers had been when Malachi touched her.

“I think you have to be.”

“You think I’m part… angel?”

“It’s slightly more complicated than that, but yes.” He brought a chair over and sat across from her.

“My stepdad would disagree strongly with that.”

“It’s not what humans think.”

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