The Silent(50)

“Because you’re young too, aren’t you?”

That was what Kyra recognized now. The truth that had eluded her about this odd Fallen angel. Though Vasu was ancient to the earth, as an angel, he was a mere child. Of course he had an affinity toward children. He was one.

Vasu put his head on Kyra’s shoulder. “Do you see it now?”

“I see it now.” She turned and kissed Vasu’s forehead. “Thank you for showing me.”

“You’re welcome.”

He disappeared.

Kyra continued to watch Prija play, her face glowing with peace, her eyes closed, rocking in time with her instrument. She wasn’t playing music. She was music.

“…when you’ve found your voice, you’ll sing to me.”

This was what Leo was talking about. Prija had found her voice. Not an Irina voice, but a kareshta one.

Wholly and beautifully unique.



Leo and Niran rushed toward the Fallen, throwing themselves on the creature’s back as he struggled to rise. Whatever magic Prija was working had caused the angel to stumble. Alyah stood on the edge of the courtyard, guarded by Niran’s brother, singing over the chaos of battle. Her song lifted Leo, and his magic grew stronger. His talesm glowed. His hand was firm on his knife.

“On his back,” he shouted at Niran. “Take him down!”

Leo ran around to face the angel, who was snarling. He didn’t appear in his bird form anymore, but in the still frightening and beautiful form of an angel. He was seven feet tall and broadly built. His hair was black as a raven’s wing and tied in a knot at the back of his head.

“Away from me, Forgiven get!” he shouted in the Old Language. “You have no power over me.”

Ava’s teasing voice rang in the back of his mind. Remember, big guy. The bigger they are, the harder they fall.

Leo ran toward the Fallen, knowing that if the creature got him in his grip, he was likely done for. But at the last minute, Leo curled and bent down, rolling into a ball and ignoring the slice of rock against his shoulders. He hit Arindam’s shins, knocking the angel forward as Niran and Rith jumped on his back.

Leo quickly uncurled and flung himself on the angel’s legs, pinning him down with his weight as Niran lay over the monster’s shoulders.

“Do it!” he screamed at Rith.

The black blade rose. The angel roared. Rith plunged the blade into Arindam’s spine, and the roaring monster fell silent.



Kyra clutched her stomach, nausea making her body shake. Prija dropped her instrument to the ground and clutched her temples, crying out as she fell to the side. The earth beneath them rolled and shook; then everything was silent.





Chapter Twenty-Eight





Leo and Kyra walked off the mountain with their friends, one warrior lost but a sister found. Prija walked behind them, draped in Intira’s blanket and clutching Niran’s hand. Her other brother was at her side, carefully holding the instrument she’d used to sing against the angel. Rith and Alyah walked behind them, bloody and black with smoke. Everyone was exhausted, and tears ran down their faces from the heat and the sting of the fire.

They found Sura pulled over on the side of the road that ran along the east side of the temple hill. Seven human women were with him, and seven children. Four were girls. Three were boys with wide eyes who hadn’t yet reached puberty. Their cheeks were soft, and they sat next to the van, listening to Sura.

Kyra held Leo’s hand out of desire, not necessity. The minute Arindam died, the painful noise that covered the plain ceased. The land was silent now, except for the soul voices of the humans who lived and the Grigori who’d fled.

“We’ll have to coordinate with the scribe houses in Dhaka and Dimapur,” Rith said. “There hasn’t been a scribe house in Myanmar since the Rending.”

“We can help,” Niran said, nodding to the Grigori boys. “I’m sure Sura will want to keep the boys with us. They will have challenges we are more suited to dealing with. Since we know their father is dead, we don’t have to worry about mental manipulation or their free will being compromised.”

“Will it be the same with the girls?” Rith asked. “What should we do with them?”

Kyra’s stomach sank. Despite the pretty words of the Irin council, she should have expected this. Kareshta were never wanted. The discarded mothers were never wanted. She could see the defeat in the women’s eyes. The ones who had stayed with Sura likely had no other place to go. They were pregnant or had children from the angel. They were dirty and abused. Cast off from the powerful and unwanted by the world.

She tasted the bitterness on her tongue.

“What are we going to do with them?” Alyah asked Rith. “Find homes for them, of course. Where do you think they’re going to go?”

“We’ve already taken responsibility for the others,” Rith said. “The Bangkok scribe house—”

“I should have known,” Kyra said bitterly. “I should have known.”

Leo squeezed her hand. “Reshon, we will not abandon them.”

“I know you won’t, but this one?” She nodded at Rith. “I don’t know you, and I don’t trust you. Why would these women trust you? They mean nothing to you. Kareshta are not your problem. We never were.”

Anger flared in Rith’s eyes, but Kyra turned away from him. She thought about the temple in Chiang Mai. Could they take four more girls? What about the women who were pregnant? Would they agree to go to Thailand? At least four of them were carrying boys and would suffer through their pregnancies. There were ways to combat that, but only with Irina magic.

“Stop.” Sura walked over and spoke quietly. “This is not the place to discuss these things. We need to get all of them to a safe place. Can your people help with that?” he asked Rith.

Rith gave a sharp nod and pulled out his phone. Kyra leaned on Leo’s shoulder. She wanted a bath. She wanted a bed. She wanted the silence and peace of Leo’s touch.

The angry scribe walked back a few moments later. “Dara has secured a house thirty kilometers from here. If we all get in the van, we can make it before the roads are busy. She wants us to wait for instructions from there.”

Leo glanced at Niran and saw the man nod.

“Fine,” Niran said. “Let’s get everyone away from here and cleaned up. We’ll all feel better once we’re out of the open.”

Kyra and Leo squeezed into the van. A twelve-person van carrying twenty-two people was hardly comfortable, but they managed. A short ride later, they rolled into a walled compound with mango trees covering a courtyard, and a large house in the center. With practiced efficiency, Sura and Alyah sorted everyone into groups and arranged baths for the little ones.

Leo picked her up and carried her to the room at the top of the house. It was stuffy, but opening the windows helped, and the room had an attached bath. There was no hot water, but Kyra and Leo didn’t need it. They bathed each other, then fell into bed exhausted.



Kyra woke to Leo combing out her long hair with his fingers.

“Good morning,” he whispered.

She stretched and nuzzled her face into his neck. “Is it morning?”

Leo pointed her head at the window. Grey light was giving way to a gold bloom in the east. She buried her face back in his chest. She wasn’t sure she was ready to face the day.

“We slept all day and all night?” she murmured.

“You did. Prija did too. Whatever magic you two were working, it took the energy right out of you. I woke up a little last night.” He smiled. “I was hungry.”

“You’re always hungry.”

He bent over and kissed her lips. “And you always feed me. What a lucky scribe I am.”

Heat marked her face. “I wonder if I will ever get used to your attention.”

“I hope not. I love the color of your cheeks when I scandalize you.”

“Leo,” she whispered.

“Kyra.”

She smiled against his skin. Are you really mine?

I am. I am forever yours.

She smiled harder. “It’s easier now.”

“You heard me?”

She nodded.

“When can we go away?” he asked. “I want to make you mine. I want the mating ceremony with you. I want to mark your skin. Make my vow.” He kissed the top of her head. “Say yes, Kyra.”

Kyra wanted it so badly, but there was still a hesitation in the back of her mind. “What if I never learn to sing? It will be an uneven mating. You told me yourself. Only my song can complete the ritual, and there is no guarantee I will ever sing. Not like a real Irina.”

“Kyra—”

“I know… I know you think I’ll find my voice,” she said. “But that’s wishful thinking, Leo. I do believe I’ll find a voice, but it might not be what you’re imagining.”

“Then I will be content with your song, whatever it might be. But ana sepora, Ava will teach you. I know she will.”

“Are you sure of that?”

“Should I call her right now?”

“I don’t know…” Kyra gathered her courage and spoke her secret fear. “What if it’s not good for me to learn, Leo? My blood is of the Fallen. What if learning Irina magic unlocks something dark in me?”

Leo pulled her away from his chest and tilted her chin up. He was frowning. “Do you really believe that?”