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“Really?” The old woman stepped back and frowned.

“As far as I know. The drinking and drugs seem to work for him.”

Orsala’s eyes had lost focus. “I wonder…”

Ava waited for her to continue, but she seemed to have lost track of her thoughts. The singer wandered over to a stack of books on the library table and began to page through them. Rhys smiled at Orsala and came to stand in her place.

“I’ll continue to search, but I don’t know what other avenues to check.”

Ava had a thought. “Rhys, speaking of Luis…”

“Luis Martin? I’ve checked him out. He’s aboveboard. No criminal record. No links to our world that I can find.”

“How about his personal property? Investments. That kind of thing.”

“What about them?” Rhys frowned. “He’s been a good financial manager for your father and seems very honest. There’s no evidence of embezzlement or anything of the sort.”

“Ah, but what about his own money?” Malachi smiled. “I know what she’s thinking. We were looking for properties or payments in Jasper Reed’s financial life that might indicate something about his mother. But did we check Luis Martin? If Reed truly wanted someone hidden, would he put it in his name or hide it behind someone he trusted implicitly?”

Rhys nodded. “It makes sense if he truly trusts Martin that much.”

Ava said, “He does.”

“Then I’ll look into Luis Martin’s financial life. I’ll let you know if anything looks interesting.”

“Thanks, Rhys.”

Orsala called from the other side of the room. “Rhys, do you have a copy of Gabriel’s Old Tales?”

“Which version?”

“The Hofstra translation is what I prefer, but any will do. Even one in the Old Language.”

“I know I have at least one. Don’t know about Hofstra…” Rhys led Orsala to the shelves, the two of them scanning the rows of books and muttering quietly back and forth.

“What are Gabriel’s Old Tales?” Ava asked.

“Hmm? Oh. Children’s stories.” Malachi frowned. “Somewhat frightening ones, as a matter of fact. I’m trying to think of a human equivalent.”

Grimm’s Fairy Tales?”

“Perhaps.”

“Fair maiden does something stupid and ends up eaten by a wolf or losing body parts and wandering hopelessly alone for the rest of her life? That kind of thing?”

“Yes,” he said. “That kind of thing. My grandmother read some of Gabriel’s Old Tales to me when I was a child, and I don’t think I slept for a week.”

“Nice.”

“Now that I think about it, let’s agree to never tell our children those kinds of stories, shall we?”

“We never finished the kid conversation, you know.”

He reached over and put his arm around her shoulder, nuzzling his face into her neck. “You want my babies.”

Ava felt herself melting. “You are confident, aren’t you?”

“I’m confident because I know you want my babies. And you’re a fierce woman who will make a tremendous mother.”

“Mine was pretty great, even though my dad and stepdad were kind of useless.”

“As our children will have the benefit of a superb father, you should have no concerns.”

“What was Orsala saying about your confidence coming back?”

HER eyes opened in the darkness. She could sense her mate. He was by her side, unaware they were no longer alone.

Was she dreaming? She didn’t quite know. All she knew was darkness and quiet. Peace filled her heart.

Darkness materialized from the shadows, but it wasn’t Jaron. The rustle of feathers whispered in the air as the beautiful man leaned forward. His face emerged from the void of his hood, pale as the moon and holding an ancient, delicate beauty.

Ava felt no fear.

His eyes weren’t the rich gold of Jaron’s, but a silvery grey outlined by deep ebony lashes. His hair was the blue-black of a raven’s wing; his face spoke peace.

Beautiful, immutable peace.

She put a hand on Malachi’s shoulder and was surprised to feel the heat of his skin under her fingers. This was a dream, but it wasn’t.

“I’ve seen you before,” she said.

Death nodded, but he did not speak.

“You’re not like the others.”

He shook his head, a small smile playing across his lips.

“Am I going to die? Is he?” Her hand pressed into her mate’s back, and Death’s eyes followed her hand, resting on Malachi as he slept.

“No,” Ava whispered, fear clutching her chest. “Please no.”

Death flew to her side, pressing a warm finger to her lips. He drew her to his chest, and when he embraced her, a still, quiet voice whispered in her mind.

I am not here for you. Or him. I only see you together, and it fills me with a rare joy.

“You took him,” she whispered.

I take them all. It is not often I am allowed to bring them back.

A sense of laughter in her mind.

Come with me, daughter. And I will show you secrets.

Death spread his arms and enfolded her in the night. His cloak was a blanket of stars, wrapping her in its depths as he surrounded her. She was weightless. Formless. And yet she still felt Malachi’s strong shoulder under her hand as her soul flew with the black angel.

Come.

He opened his cloak and revealed a dark room. Three beings met there, cold and frightening in power. And though she stood in the center of them, Death held her shoulders, turning her around the chamber, and Ava knew they did not see her.

Listen.

The whispers came to her from behind a veil. Thoughts and voices tangled together. Ava knew they were speaking in the Old Language, but she had no trouble understanding.

“…troublesome child.”

“Barak should have killed him.”

“You killed Barak. Why… son still alive?”

They were indistinguishable by feature. She could only sense two beings with bright, glowing power and another clinging to one as a parasite to a host, feeding from the greater, though he did not know it. The Fallen were veiled, cloaking their power from the world and each other.

“…not long now.”

“Watching. We must…”

“Scattered.” Another voice drifted in and out. “…act now or they will discover them.”

“There is no danger.”

“There is every danger.”

“If they find them—”

“If they find them, they will be reborn. The silent must remain hidden…”

Ava strained, but she couldn’t hear more.

“…Irin will wake.”

“A sleeping enemy does not trouble me.”

“And Jaron?”

A pause. “Our brother does not have the strength to oppose us.”

Something in the mocking tone of his voice reminded Ava of Brage, and she knew the speaker was Volund.

“He will make their army his own.”

A growing sense of urgency. Wariness. Alarm?

Ava felt the black arms embrace her again just as Volund turned to stare into the void where she listened.

“Quiet, brothers.” A long pause. “Azril, do you come among us?”

She dissolved, only to merge with her body again, her fingers still resting on her mate’s back.

Warm hands clasped her face, though she could not see them. A cheek pressed against her own.

I cannot go to her, the angel whispered in her mind. Though she calls me by my true name, I cannot reach her.