Happy. She’d been so happy.
“What about your own family?”
“I don’t know if that is possible for me.”
Though the kareshta were daughters of the Fallen, they were still angelic. They could have children. There were several kareshta who were pregnant from Irin scribes. Some they’d identified even had children with human mates, though it was unusual. What was the sorrow that shadowed her eyes?
A tapping came at the door.
Leo sprang up and rushed toward it, flinging it open only to see Alyah on the other side.
“Oh,” he said. “It’s you.”
Her eyebrows rose. “Clearly not who you were hoping for.”
No, but he did have a few questions. “Why don’t you come in?” He held the door open and Alyah walked inside.
“Did you find her?”
“Yes.”
“Was she safe?”
“Apparently.” How to broach the topic without having Alyah clam up? She was highly loyal to her watcher. She practically worshipped Dara, and Leo understood why. “I spoke briefly to the Grigori you’ve been watching. There are some interesting things about him.”
“Oh?” She sat on the bench in the small living area. “We have been watching for some time. It’s apparent he’s not feeding on humans.”
“When we first spoke, you were skeptical about the existence of the kareshta. You didn’t know if this group of Grigori were protecting any sisters or not.”
“Are they?”
“It would seem so,” Leo said. “It would also seem that two or more scribes—I wasn’t able to get specifics—attempted to abduct one of their sisters recently.”
Alyah wasn’t prone to strong reactions, but that got her attention. “What?”
“Two scribes. He said they tried to grab one of his sisters from a temple.”
“I know nothing about this.”
“Then this Grigori said: ‘Watchers know best, do they not?’ Alyah, are you sure that Dara has no knowledge of the kareshta this Grigori is protecting?”
She frowned and leaned forward. “I told you we were skeptical they truly existed. Why would Dara lie about them if she knew they were there?”
“Why would scribes try to abduct a woman praying at a temple?”
“Maybe they thought she was human,” Alyah said. “Maybe they thought they were protecting her from Grigori.”
“We’re not supposed to touch humans,” Leo said. “It can be harmful to them.”
Alyah gave him another skeptical look. “Do you truly think all scribes are as honorable as that? Besides, Dara doesn’t command every scribe in Thailand. Perhaps they were independent and believed this woman was kareshta. Maybe they believed they were saving her from an angel.”
“Or perhaps they were eager to find an available female,” Leo said quietly.
Alyah’s lip curled. “They wouldn’t—”
“They would,” Leo said. “They have. It’s happened in Europe.”
“Scribes have kidnapped these kareshta? Abducted them?”
“They dress it up,” Leo said. “Say they’re rescuing them from the Grigori. Or the Fallen.”
“Maybe they are.”
“And maybe they want a grateful female who looks to them for protection,” Leo said. “A kareshta in debt to them for their freedom. If that’s happening in Thailand, you must put a stop to it. The mandate from the council is clear: the protection of the kareshta, not their exploitation. Sometimes protecting them might mean protecting the brothers they depend on.”
“Grigori?” Alyah said. “Leaving them alone is one thing, but protecting them?”
“Some of these men have given everything—given their own lives—to keep their sisters safe. Many love their families just as much as Irin love theirs. Taking a kareshta away from brothers who have been her caretakers and protectors only traumatizes them again.”
“Unless they want to go.” Alyah stood. “Who says these Grigori aren’t keeping their sisters under their thumbs just as much as the Fallen did? Irina have options. We have power. We have independence. We have magic.”
“You have independence because you have magic. You want the kareshta to have that too?”
Alyah fell silent.
It was one thing to rail at the Grigori. It was another thing to offer magic to a race that had very recently been the enemy. Alyah’s reaction was not unexpected.
“We wait for Kyra to call me,” he said. “At this point, it’s all we can do.”
Chapter Seven
The ride back to the temple was completely and utterly silent. At least on the outside. Two Grigori sat in the back of the pickup truck, watching for any hint of a tail as Kyra sat in the front seat next to Niran and Intira sat in the back with Sura.
Niran was furious. His soul voice raged, and Kyra had a difficult time blocking him. Most of his anger felt like it was projected outward, but some sounded like it went within.
Kyra glanced over her shoulder and saw Intira’s jaw clench. If Kyra was having trouble blocking Niran, she could only imagine what Intira was feeling.
Very calmly, she said, “Just because you’re silent doesn’t mean we can’t hear you.”
Sura said something Kyra couldn’t understand, but whatever it was ratcheted down the tension in the truck. The atmosphere still wasn’t pleasant, but it was better.
Once they arrived at the temple, Intira fled to her cottage, and Kyra waited by the vehicle. Niran barked orders at his men, then turned to Kyra.
His eyes flashed, and Kyra saw the predator he was bred to be. A frisson of fear worked its way down her spine, but she stood straight.
“We need to talk,” he said.
She shook her head. “Not when you’re like this.” She started back toward her cottage, and Niran grabbed her elbow. Kyra twisted under his arm and brought her fist down hard on the inside of his elbow as Sirius had taught her. Niran hissed and dropped his hand.
“Do not make the mistake of thinking,” Kyra said in a low voice, “that because I am quiet, I am defenseless. I will talk to you in the morning, Niran. You attacked a friend of mine, provoked a powerful scribe, and turned this night into a bad memory for a sister you love. Think about that.” She turned to Sura, who was watching quietly. “Would you walk me to my cottage, please?”
Sura inclined his head and lifted an eyebrow in Niran’s direction before he walked off with Kyra, his hands clasped behind his back.
Kyra walked into the trees where faint lights lit the path back to the kareshta cottages. She had controlled her emotions all night, but in the quiet rustle of the wind in the bamboo, her walls began to crumble.
Her skin felt brittle. Her belly was liquid. Her emotions were everywhere, and she couldn’t stop thinking about Leo’s kiss. She’d never imagined anything feeling as good as his lips pressing against hers as he lifted her in his powerful arms and held her tight. Why had that act—which seemed so inherently messy and awkward—felt so good? Her skin felt like she’d touched a live wire. Her lips were numb. She desperately wanted to try it again, and yet she knew it wasn’t a good idea.
Kyra felt as she imagined the humans did when they’d had too much wine.
Drunk. She was drunk on Leo.
“I’m sorry I did not get a chance to meet your friend,” Sura said into the heavy silence.
Kyra barked out a laugh.
Sura smiled. “If you call him a friend, you must trust him.”
“I do.”
“Then I imagine he is a person worth knowing.”
“That is probably a matter of opinion. Niran didn’t seem to think so.”
Sura cocked his head to the side and looked up at the moon. He walked in silence for a few steps before he said, “Niran has organized his world in very strict ways. Black-and-white. Family and other. He trusts very few, and he keeps a narrow focus. He has done this in order to control himself and provide for our sisters. He was once the most feared and powerful of our father’s sons, so this order in his life is hard-won, and anything that disturbs it is avoided.”
“I understand.”
“I suspect you do,” Sura said. “From reputation, your brother is much the same.”
“Sirius?” Kyra said. “Not really. He’s always been—”
“Not Sirius.” Sura’s lips twitched. “Kostas. The one who is not supposed to know where you are.”
Kyra sighed. “Do you know everything, Sura?”
“Hardly. But I know brothers and sisters.” He met Kyra's eyes. “And I also know that Niran has come to care greatly for you. Not only because of your work with Intira and the others. His reaction tonight does not surprise me.”
Was Sura saying Niran was… jealous? The idea of Niran caring for her pained Kyra. Not because he was an unworthy man, but because he was worthy. If she was free—and if she didn’t have such complex feelings for Leo—Niran was the kind of man she would admire.
But that wasn’t reality.
“He knows…” Kyra blinked hard. “Niran knows my life will not last much longer, Sura. I know things for free Grigori are different now, but he must know a future with me is not possible.”
Sura shrugged. “What we know in our minds and what we feel in our hearts are often quite contrary, aren’t they?”