Page 70 of The Scribe (Irin Chronicles 1)

“Cut me a little slack, will you?”

“You cripple yourself and your own power when you say this, Ava.”

“I get it.” She tried to turn back to her books, but then she looked up again. “So, these powers…”

“Yes?”

“How… I mean, what do I…” She frowned, unsure of what the right question was.

“What powers do you have?”

“I guess so.”

Evren said, “It varies. All Irina have the capacity to speak and perform magic. Other gifts are rarer. A very few have the gift of foresight, which is directly from our angelic forefathers. Our magic expresses itself in similar ways. Some Irina spells are exactly like our own. For health and strength. Longevity. Physical or emotional strength for our mates. Others are uniquely Irina. We have no capacity for their magic.”

“Like what?”

“Healing of humans. Creative spells. Much to do with the natural world that helps the plants grow or brings health to a baby in the womb. Bearing children—”

“My mom says there’s nothing magical about that experience, Evren.”

He chuckled. “But of course there is! Though it is not without pain. Irina have a unique talent for anything creative. Wonderful architects and artists. But their greatest magic islistening.”

“Like the voices.”

“It is not only the voices in their minds.” Evren pinned her down with his stare. “There are seers, yes, but also those who hear what is unsaid. They listen and theyunderstand. As we Irin are able to discern the tiniest marking on parchment, a gifted Irina hears what is said and also what is unsaid. They discern where others do not.”

“Well… that makes sense.”

Ava wondered if that was one of her gifts. After all, she’d always had a pretty good bullshit detector, because the inner voice, that no one else heard, couldn’t lie. Sure, someone could say one thing, but the tone of their silent voice gave their true motive away. It was probably why she’d always had so few friends. It was also why she was still so confused about Malachi.

He had been quietly present ever since the night at the restaurant. She got the distinct feeling he was biding his time. For what? She had no idea. But the tone of his thoughts had taken on a decidedly heated air, even though she couldn’t understand what he was saying.

And she could always hear him. Even when others were around, his voice shone through. With a little guidance from Evren, she’d begun to master control over the voices. Even casual contact with the scribes around her helped. Evren made it a point to pat her hand as they worked, and even the shyest scribe in the house, when he met her, greeted her with a warm handshake that enveloped her palm. They were quietly affectionate, all of them treating her like a treasured sister or daughter. Everyone except Rhys and Malachi.

With Rhys, it was a teasing grin, or a tug on her hair. A casual arm thrown around her shoulders as they walked to the village. A flirtatious nudge as they sat next to each other on the couch.

With Malachi, a pass in the hallway meant a shiver-inducing brush along her arm. He continued to taunt her fingers, letting his own linger when he handed her a book or sat next to her at the table. He didn’t flirt with her. Didn’t even speak to her much when others were around. But Malachi was always there. She could feel his eyes. She could sense his heat. Could feel his irritation every time Rhys came close.

The pressure was building, and Ava had no idea when things might boil over.

The phone feltheavy in her hand. It rang and rang with no friendly secretary picking up. Finally, she heard the message for Dr. Sadik’s office, but hung up. He’d given her his mobile number, so she used it. She had to tell the man something. She’d have missed two appointments by now. She hoped he hadn’t worried. She’d already called her mother, and that had been bad enough. Dr. Sadik’s mobile rang only twice before he picked it up.

“Hello?”

“Dr. Sadik?”

“Ava! How are you? I’ve been wondering what happened. I hope you are well. You’ve missed your appointments for two weeks. Did you go back to the States?”

“No.” All of a sudden, the careful excuses she’d rehearsed flew from her mind. “I… I met some friends. We decided to travel for a while. I’m so sorry I forgot to call you.”

“I’m only happy to hear you are well. I’ll admit that I was worried. Where are you traveling? Are you still in Turkey?”

She took a deep breath and smiled. His calming voice always put her at ease. “I am. Traveling in Cappadocia, as a matter of fact.”

“Ah. A very interesting part of the country. How do you find it?”

“Excuse me?”

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