Since the mating ritual, Ava had been flooded with power. She was stronger. Quicker. She healed faster. She’d deliberately taken a knife to her forearm that afternoon while Malachi had been napping, just to see what would happen. The cut she’d made on her forearm had healed within minutes.
He was stroking her hair, leading them to the bench by the locked cistern. Ava looked at the sign announcing the renovations. It was in Turkish, but she could see the future plans for the new tourist attraction around the historic site.
“Did you get the car keys?” she asked when they’d sat.
“Yes. She said the messenger already called to say he’d be late. She said he’d probably arrive in the next half an hour.”
“And Damien? Max?”
“Headed over to the rug shop right now. We’ll call them once we get on the highway.”
Ava nodded, a sense of unease still heavy in her belly.
“It’s fine, reshon. Everything will be fine.”
Malachi watched her, wondering what had happened to the confident, fearless woman he loved. Since the night before, she was jumpy. A cloud seemed to hang over her shoulders. Was she truly that worried, or was their new intimacy making him more aware of her moods?
It wasn’t uncommon for Irin mated for years to be almost telepathic with each other. Though they couldn’t speak to each other’s minds, the awareness of mood was hard to ignore. He’d know when she was angry or happy. Upset. Worried. He felt them all now as her emotions flooded the magic he’d given her. It was both intoxicating and distracting, and for the first time, he wondered whether the ritual had been the right thing to do.
Too late to second-guess himself.
Malachi watched the front of the hotel as two men exited. They looked up and down the street, then sauntered off in the direction of the Sultanahmet tram station. A few minutes later, a couple entered the hotel from the opposite side. Normal traffic on a quiet afternoon.
And still Ava sat, a silent knot of tension at his side.
“Tell me a story,” she finally said.
“What kind of story?”
“Something not serious. What’s your favorite childhood memory?”
He broke into a smile. “Swimming at the beach. We’d go to the North Sea in the summer when we lived in Germany.”
“Wasn’t that cold?”
“Freezing.” He put an arm around her, thankful for the distraction. “My father had a good friend with a cabin there. I think it’s still there, probably. It was quite old, but very nice. My mother and father and I would stay for two months in the summer. Living in a retreat can be very hectic sometimes. Families live in their own homes, but the children go to school together, the adults all work together. Even meals are communal. So my parents tried to make some time for only the three of us. That was our family time. I would play in the water even though it was frigid. My mother thought I was crazy.”
A tentative smile crossed her face. “You were.”
“We should go there,” he said. “When we have children, we’ll take them there.”
There was a smile on her face. “We should.” Ava took a deep breath. “We’ll really have children, Malachi?”
“Hopefully.” He squeezed her. “Irin don’t have many children. One is normal. Two is fortunate. But I hope we have two.”
The vision of children Jaron had sent her flashed in her mind again. A dark-haired boy with his father’s eyes. A golden-eyed girl laughing. It should have warmed her, but there was a dark side to the vision, as well. The animals had stood at attention, prowling around the girl and boy. Clearly guarding them, but from what?
“Do not fear the darkness.”
The memory of Jaron’s voice calmed her as she sat. Then she tensed again when she felt Malachi’s arm tighten.
“What is it?”
“Grigori,” he said, freezing as he watched two men enter the hotel lobby. “Two of them just walked in. Damn it.”
Ava looked around them. They were completely exposed in the center of the square. There were no barricades to hide behind, no buildings they could duck into without being conspicuous.
“I can’t kill them in the hotel lobby or out in the open here,” Malachi said. “We’ll have to wait for them to come out. Draw them somewhere isolated.”
“Is it just the two?” Ava’s eyes landed on the grated door of the Theodosius Cistern. Though it was locked, it was only with a simple padlock. No guards stood nearby. And the dark passageway had a view of the hotel.
“More coming this way,” he murmured, taking her hand. “From the direction of the mosque.”
Looking uphill, Ava spotted two attractive men strolling down the street toward them. They were looking toward the hotel, not at Ava and Malachi, but Ava knew as soon as they saw their friends leave the lobby, the Grigori would start looking for them.
“More from that street, too.” Malachi pulled out Ava’s phone and sent a quick text to someone. Somehow the drop location had been compromised.
“We have to get out of here,” he said.
“How?” Ava’s heart raced. Six streets converged at the cistern park, and from each direction, a group of men strolled toward them. There were two there. Three there. “Malachi, they’ve cornered us.”
“No,” he muttered. “There has to be a way…” His eyes landed on the locked grate leading to the cistern entry just as the call to prayer started and birds scattered in flight. The Grigori converging on the square turned their heads toward the mosque on Divan Yolu, and Malachi used the distraction to drag Ava toward the cistern. “This way.”
“That goes underground!” she hissed. It was one thing to stroll through the Basilica Cistern with its dramatic columns and modern walkways, but the Theodosius Cistern looked like nothing but a black cave. “Malachi…”
“We’ll watch and wait for now,” he said, twisting off the lock that held the grate closed. He opened the door, and Ava was grateful the calls of the muezzin hid the rusty groan. “We can see the entrance of the hotel from here. There are too many to fight alone while I’m not at full strength. If we run, they’ll catch us. Until Max and Damien get here, we need to hide.”
She knew that ritual had been a bad idea. The thought of a weakened Malachi sent her heart into overdrive. “Did you text them already?”
“Yes.” He shoved her farther into the shadowed passageway, and Ava almost tripped over the heavy rubber boots covered in mud that the workmen had left on the platform. “They should come soon. They’ll create a distraction, and we’ll grab the car. We can figure out documents later. Right now, I just want you out of this city.”
“Okay.”
Malachi sucked in his breath and darted back from the door. “Brage.”
Ava’s heart sank. From the darkness of the metal walkway, she could see the blond Grigori soldier walking out of the Antea Hotel and turning his head to look up and down the street. His eyes were narrowed with purpose.
The soldiers knew they were nearby.
Malachi shot off another text to Max, who had yet to respond. Where the hell was he? Annoyance and worry competed in his mind. What had happened to the documents? Had Maxim been set up? And further, how could Malachi get the car from the hotel while avoiding the dozen or more Grigori who had taken up residence at the intersection?
When he realized who the blond Grigori outside the hotel was, thoughts of the car fled. He had to get Ava away. Eyes darting into the blackness, he racked his memories for everything he knew about the cistern where they were hiding. It was an old one, and he suspected it connected to the Valens Aqueduct, the ancient waterway the Romans had built to transport water throughout the city. Many of the cisterns still had tunnels leading between them. Was the Theodosius one of them?
Malachi tossed one last look toward the square. The sky was growing dim, and the street lights in front of the hotel had switched on. He could see Brage and the other Grigori milling in front of the hotel. He could wait for them to leave the square, or he could look for another way out.
He looked down to the boots at their feet, then bent down to slip on the biggest pair, handing another to Ava.
“Put these on.”
“Where are we going?”
“Down.” He saw a small flashlight near the edge of the platform. Flicking it on and hoping the light wouldn’t be seen from outside, he peered over the edge. “We’re going to see if there’s a tunnel.”
“What?” Ava squeaked. She might have protested, but she was already pulling on the boots. “We’re going farther down? Shouldn’t we wait here for Max and Damien?”
“And wait for Brage to notice the broken lock on the gate?” Standing in the boots, he tested them, finding himself not unbearably clumsy in the yellow rubber footwear. “There could be a tunnel out of here. There often are in these old places. And if they do find us in here, I want a wall to my back and you behind me. It’ll be easier to kill them if I don’t have to worry about them coming from all directions.”
He didn’t mention Brage wielding an angelic blade. That was the real problem.
“I knew you shouldn’t have given me a bunch of your magic,” she said, pulling on the second boot.
Malachi was doubly glad that he had. If she was injured in all this, improved healing could be the difference between life and death for her. And with Ava’s improved eyesight, they barely had to use the flashlight.
“Come on.” He took her hand and started down the creaking staircase.
“Are you sure this thing is safe?”
“Workmen have been climbing up and down on this for months, so I hope so.” He paused when one of the steps wobbled under his feet. Then he started climbing at a slower pace. “We’re not that heavy. We’ll be fine.”
Once they’d safely reached the bottom, Malachi turned on the light. Sweeping it from side to side, he could see the soaring columns belted by steel bands for reinforcement, marching like grey soldiers into the black. The domes of the cistern towered over them, the ancient brick causing the slightest noise to echo. He could hear water dripping overhead and the splash of muddy water as Ava walked behind him.
“They’re renovating it right now,” he whispered, “but it used to have as much water as the Basilica Cistern.”
“Looks more like mud to me.” She almost tripped over a shovel leaning against the wall. “Holy cow, it stinks.”
“People throw all sorts of things down here. Try not to think about it.”
Malachi carefully led them around the periphery of the cavern, but he couldn’t spot a tunnel or other exit. If there had been one, it was closed off or under mud or brick. The water grew deeper the farther they went, and thick mud sucked at their feet.
“Anything from Max or Damien?” she whispered behind him.
He glanced at the phone. “I can’t get any reception down here. I told them where we were hiding. I just hope they get the message.”
“If they don’t… then what?”
Then what? He had no idea.