“Am I not allowed to ask you questions?”
“It’s unusual.”
“Call me unusual, then.”
She smiled then, a genuine smile untouched by cynicism. “Yeah, I like it. I’m not the most social person in the world.”
“I’ve noticed.”
“Wow. That bad, huh?”
He shrugged. “You just seem to like your own space. I don’t see you chatting with many strangers like a lot of the tourists do.”
“My own space?” Her smile hinted at some inside joke. “You could call it that. I don’t travel much in cities. They’re very…”
He waited, but she seemed to expect him to interrupt. He didn’t.
Finally, she said, “They’re crowded. Noisy. Too many smells and sounds and sights all crashing together. I don’t like them, usually.”
“Not even Constantinople?”
“You mean Istanbul?”
He grinned. “Are we going there?”
“We better not.” She laughed again. “I’ll have that song stuck in my head for days. But to answer your question, despite the noise and the people and the heat—”
“The heat is something else, isn’t it?”
“No worse than L.A. most summers. Despite all that…” Her eyes drifted toward the water. “I like it here. There’s something about it, isn’t there? It’s…” Her eyes sought his. “Seductive.”
Malachi could feel the tattoos covering his chest pulse. No… Not going there, either.
He straightened and cleared his throat. “It’s a fascinating place. Very complicated history.”
“I can tell.” Her golden-brown eyes seemed to mock him. “Just by looking at it.”
Silence fell between them as she held his stare. The wind picked up, teasing the fine hair at the back of his neck. He saw her glance down at the tattoo work along his collar, but she said nothing. Asked nothing.
“Why are you here?” he asked. “Really?”
“Headaches.” The mask fell over her face. She had answered without thinking. He was betting she didn’t do that often.
“Headaches?”
“The condition I mentioned the other day.” She waved a careless hand. “There’s a doctor here who specializes in it. The appointment last week, remember? I was referred to him. And you don’t need to report that to Carl or my mom.”
“I don’t report on your activities to anyone unless I think there is some aspect of your safety in jeopardy. I’m not a stalker; I’m a guard.”
“Good.”
“Is he helping?”
“The doctor?”
“Yes.”
Her head bobbed back and forth, considering the question. “Maybe. I try not to get my hopes up, you know? I’ve lived with the headaches my whole life.”
Malachi knew all about not getting his hopes up. So why was he having a hard time believing Damien?
“And there is no cure for them?”
“Not that anyone has found. It’s not a tumor or anything. They’re a bit of a mystery.”
As are you, woman. It wasn’t headaches. At least, that wasn’t all of it. He didn’t know exactly what was going on with the interesting American woman, but he was determined to find out.
Malachi said, “It’s better to be cautious, even with doctors. If there is any background information you’d like on this doctor, let me know. I know many people in Istanbul. Maybe some of my friends or associates have gone to him.”
From her expression, she didn’t like that idea. “I’ll keep it in mind. I’m fine for right now.”
“I just wanted to offer.”
“Noted.” She forced a smile. “But not necessary. I’m fine.”
You are anything but fine.
The tour boat was pulling into the dock, and passengers rose to their feet. Ava joined them without a word, leaving Malachi behind to watch her walk down the gangway. Wordlessly, he stood, then followed her at a comfortable distance as she grabbed a fish sandwich from one of the floating restaurants and walked back toward her hotel, lonely and silent in the afternoon crowd.
Malachi strode into the house and straight to the library, not even stopping to rib Maxim about the bottle of beer the younger man was drinking in the kitchen. He’d left Ava exhausted. He was fairly sure she was done for the day, but the tiny tracker he’d slipped in her bag would alert him if she left the perimeter he’d set up around the grounds of the hotel. And if she was done for the day, then he had some questions for Rhys.
“Sadik,” he said when he spied the shorter scribe sitting at his computer. “He’s the doctor she’s seeing. I saw it on the directory at the building we visited. J. Sadik. I need to know everything about him.”
Rhys turned and frowned. “Had a great day, thanks. The air conditioner is fixed, and the activity logs have been updated and sent to Vienna. And I covered your patrol last night. How was the dinner cruise? Was there a show?”
“No dinner. No show. It was hot but informative.” He paused and tried to slow his brain. “Thank you for covering my shift.”
“Well, since you’re on babysitting duty for the mysterious human, we’re all more than happy to pitch in.” Not even Rhys’s polite accent could hide the sarcasm. Malachi knew the others thought he was following a rabbit trail, but he didn’t care.
“Dr. J. Sa—”
“Sadik.” Rhys turned back to the computer. “I heard you the first time. I’m just trying to force you into social niceties you seem to have forgotten living among the barbarians.” Rhys’s fingers began typing rapidly. The three-hundred-year— old scribe had taken to modern information technology like a duck to water. Not all Irin did. Damien still considered anything more advanced than a telegraph suspicious.
“Thank you, Rhys.”
“Don’t mention it. Really. What kind of doctor?”
“I don’t know. She says she has headaches.”
“Headaches?” he muttered. “That could by physical, psychological… You have no idea what kind of headaches?”
“She wasn’t exactly forthcoming. She said he was a specialist she was referred to.”
Rhys gave him a quiet “ hmph” and kept typing.
“Where?”
“He’s in the city. Just a few miles from here. She saw him last week after the attack in the alley.”
More typing.
“Sadik? You’re sure of it?”
“Who is he? Yes, I’m sure.” Malachi leaned in, looking over the other man’s shoulder, but nothing on the screen made sense.
“There are a number of Sadiks, but none of them are specialists in anything to do with headaches.” More typing. More muttering. Rhys shook his head. “Nothing in the government system… nothing in private. Here’s one who is a pediatrician. An oncologist?”
“It didn’t sound like cancer.”
“That one is a woman, anyway. She said it was a male?”
“Ava referred to ‘him.’”
More typing. “I’m not finding anything that would match. Not in this part of the city.”
Alarm bells started to go off. “What do you mean? There has to be a record. Maybe he moved his office.”
“I’m not finding anything…” Rhys started typing again. “If he’s practicing anywhere in Turkey, I should be able to find him. He’s not in initial searches. I suppose I can keep looking…”
“Yes,” he said. Then quickly added, “Please.”
“See? You can be taught.”
J. Sadik, who are you?
He patted Rhys’s shoulder. “Thanks for checking. I may have to look in other directions.”
Rhys was still frowning, and Malachi knew the scribe was irritated that he hadn’t been able to find the answers his friend was looking for. “She was in Israel before she came here. Maybe the referral came from a doctor there. I’m going to search her medical records. I’ll see what I can find online.”