The Scribe - Hunter Elizabeth. Страница 27

“That’s horrible!”

“Most humans legends of succubi are based on the Grigori,” Rhys said with academic detachment. “If a human woman does bear a Grigori child—it happens occasionally—they’re usually quite extraordinary. You can’t discount angelic blood, after all.”

“And are they… normal? The kids?”

“For the most part, yes. Usually very gifted in some way. Mathematics. Music. Art. Many of the world’s geniuses have Grigori blood.”

“So I could have met a part-Grigori kid and not even known it?”

“Possibly,” Malachi said. “The strongest magic is gone, but most would still have that inexplicable something that makes them stand out in human society. And the majority show no more evil tendencies than the average human.”

Ava rolled her eyes. “Thanks so much.”

Rhys said, “Hundreds, thousands of years they’ve been hunting in the world. Grigori blood is laced through human biology like a dark thread by now.”

“I feel like I’m taking crazy pills,” Ava muttered, and Malachi tried not to smile.

“You’re processing all of this very well,” he said quietly. “I can’t imagine what you must be feeling.”

Malachi saw her reach for his hand, then pull back. And he wanted—he wanted to grasp it. Wrap it in his own. He felt like a man starved, then given a single bite of bread. She was there. She needed his touch. If he could only—

“So if Grigori and Irin are basically the same with the bloodlines and stuff, why aren’t the Irin men predators, too?”

Rhys curled his lip. “We have purpose, conscience, and discipline.”

“Don’t forget, Rhys.” Malachi watched her. “We also have the Irina.”

“The Irina,” Ava said. “What you think I am?”

“Yes,” Malachi said. “The Irina are our other halves. And they are stronger than human women.”

Ava shrank back in her seat. “I don’t have any super-strength, Mal. I think you guys are mixed up about what I am.”

Rhys laughed. “Not like what you’re thinking. And, for the record, the more time I spend with you, the more I agree with Malachi. You give off energy like a reactor.”

“What do you mean?”

“Irina channel human energy; it’s part of their own magic. And if you think about it, you’ve probably always had an excess. Humans would have called you nervous. Anxious. A bit jumpy and irritable.”

“Maybe…”

Malachi knew from the tone of her voice that his brother had touched a nerve.

Rhys continued, “But what humans think is nerves or anxiety is normal for an Irina.”

“You hear the souls of the world, Ava.” Malachi tore his eyes from hers when she looked at him. “You absorb some of their energy. That’s why crowds can be so overwhelming for you. It’s inevitable.”

“But we love it!” Rhys said. “We need it, really. Irin are only truly powerful when we’re mated. Keeps us balanced. Healthy. Irin and Irina were created to work together.”

They stopped at a small crossing to let a herd of sheep pass over the road. Rhys waved his hand out of the car window at the shepherd and continued driving. The terrain was slowly becoming hillier. They’d left the greener landscape near the coast and were heading inland, up the ancient Anatolian plain, not far from his own birthplace near the Sakarya River. The sun was hot, and the temperature was climbing as they drove. Rhys had been driving since they’d left the city, so it would soon be Malachi’s turn. Perhaps then he could think about something other than the tempting woman next to him.

Almost as if he’d heard Malachi’s thoughts, Rhys said, “I’m going to pull over and fill up. Take a turn driving?”

“Of course.”

They stopped at a small petrol station outside Ankara, and Ava went in to use the restroom as Malachi filled up the car. Rhys came back from paying the shopkeeper, giving Ava an appreciative glance on the way back to the car. Malachi gritted his teeth as his friend approached.

“So, what’s got you all broody, Mal?”

“Don’t call me Mal.”

“Only the pretty girl gets to call you that, eh?”

“Be quiet.”

“I like it.” Rhys snickered. “She’s got your number, as the Americans say. Is that why you’re in such a foul mood?”

“No.”

He narrowed his perceptive green eyes. “I thought you liked this woman. She’s intelligent. Funny. Obviously very attractive. What’s your problem?”

“She’s Irina.”

“Yes.” His friend nodded. “Hard to explain how, but she certainly bears the most common markers. That’s a good thing for you, remember?”

“But she was raised human, Rhys.”

“And?”

He lowered his voice. “She was around humans all her life. She’s never… She doesn’t know about Irin relationships.”

“What in heaven’s name are you talking about?”

“I touch her, and…” He frowned. “For the first time, she feels one of her own kind. She says I help take the voices away. I can relax her. And I feel… well, you can imagine how I feel.”

Rhys spoke as if to a small child. “Again, the problem is…?”

“What if it’s not me?”

A look of understanding dawned. “You mean what if she’d react to any Irin male that way?”

“Yes! If she’d been raised like us, her mother and father would have hugged her and held her. She would have had a normal childhood. Not one where she was starved for contact with her own kind for twenty-eight years. It’s not fair for me to take advantage of that, Rhys. How would you react, if it were you?”

A bitter smile touched his lips. “You mean if I’d been denied the comfort and strength of a mate for two hundred years? If I had little to no hope of ever achieving the kind of connection with another Irin that my parents had? I just can’t imagine, Malachi. Who would be able to imagine that, except… oh, ninety-five percent of us?”

“You know what I’m talking about.”

“And you’re being ridiculous. You had feelings for this woman when you thought she was still human, you idiot. This sounds like some nonsense Damien told you.” Rhys only sneered when Malachi flushed in anger. “That’s right, isn’t it? Damien warned you off her. Filled your head with this rubbish.”

“You think he’s wrong?”

“I think he has a mate,” Rhys hissed. “Even though they rarely see each other outside their dream walks. And I think he distrusts anything and everything he doesn’t understand. I also think Ava has feelings for you, and you’re being a right ass toward her.”

Malachi stepped back and finished with the gas pump. Ava was still in the building. “I’m trying to do the right thing.”

“You think the right thing is leaving her without a friend in this crazy new reality?”

“I think she deserves to find out what all this means for herself without being influenced by what I want!”

“Truly? Well, then…” Rhys smiled. “Excellent.”

Malachi’s eyes narrowed. “What does that mean?”

“It means the first new Irina seen in two hundred years is riding in the back seat with me all the way to Goreme, and I’m suddenly feeling much happier about the journey. Thank you.”

Malachi’s face fell. “You wouldn’t.”

“You seem to think that she might be drawn to anyone, so I might as well give her the option, my friend.”

A red haze fell over his vision, but just then, Ava stepped out of the shop, carrying three bottles of water and a bag of oranges. Rhys walked over with a smile, holding out his hands for the bag.

“Here, let me hold that. That was extraordinarily thoughtful, Ava. These look delicious.”

She smiled up at Rhys. “Well, I wasn’t sure what you guys like to eat, but I’m assuming it’s more than milk and honey. Or whatever the myths say.”

“Clever girl.” He slid an arm around Ava’s shoulders, guiding her back to the car. “I assure you our appetites are very similar.” He opened the car door and helped her inside. “And we always appreciate sweet things.”

He was going to kill Rhys. Slowly. In seventeen different ways so far, and they were only two hours past Ankara. The man talked and flirted, drawing Ava out in ways that had her confessing childhood mischief and university adventures. He asked about her travels and told her about his, making himself the hero of every confrontation, the key to every success.