She was here. She was alive. No one was after her, and Volund was gone.
His hands ran down her sides, cupping her hips as he brought her closer. And while the cold waves crashed outside, he made love to her. Long and slow with deliberate strokes that drew her pleasure out and forced his mind back to the beauty that was Ava and their union.
“I love you,” she gasped as she came. “I love you so much.”
Her mating marks shone on her skin and he read the words he’d written there.
I am for Ava.
Not for nightmares and death. Not for guilt and recrimination.
“For you,” he said into her mouth. “I love you.”
She held him after the pleasure wracked his body. Wrapped her arms around him and held on.
For Ava.
He was for Ava.
Chapter Thirty-two
“YOU’RE BETTER,” AVA SAID, smiling at her grandmother.
The woman looked more like her sister than her grandmother. The staff didn’t ask questions, but she could see their inquisitive looks.
“A little more every day,” Maheen said.
She’d asked Ava to call her by her new name the first time she’d visited after Jaron’s death.
Why Maheen?
Someone called me that once. I liked it.
Ava didn’t ask more. If her grandmother had chosen a new name for a new life, it was more than understandable.
She still lived in the hospital. Ava guessed she would live there for some time.
“You don’t look like me,” Maheen said.
“No. The eyes. I think that’s the only thing.”
“Grigora are more beautiful than human women,” she said, her eyes drifting. “It’s good you look human.”
Maheen was not an easy person to talk with. Brittle pain leached into the air around her, though Ava could occasionally see echoes of the woman she might have been before her rape and binding to Volund. She hated Malachi’s presence, and it had taken more than a little persuading to let her visit Maheen alone.
Malachi didn’t trust her. Neither, if Ava were completely honest, did she.
The hospital said she hadn’t been violent since the night almost a year ago when she’d started screaming and collapsed. She’d beaten her hands so badly they’d required surgery. She still struggled to hold one of the paintbrushes she was now allowed, but she was healing.
Ava hoped it was more than her hands.
“Is the scribe with you?” she asked.
“Yep. Waiting in the living room downstairs.”
She nodded, rocking back and forth a little in her seat.
“He won’t come up.”
“They were the monsters in the night, you know?”
“Who?”
“Irin scribes. My brothers would tell me stories. If I saw one in the market, I had to run. They never let me go anywhere alone.” She laughed. “Except…”
Ava waited for a long while, but Maheen had drifted again. It was a pretty common occurrence.
“Grandmother?”
“You shouldn’t call me that.” Her head jerked toward the door. “You know they watch me.”
Did they? Ava made a mental note to check. She couldn’t see any cameras, but you never knew. Maheen was highly paranoid.
“Is he here again?” Maheen asked. “Did you bring him?”
“Jasper?” Ava hesitated to say. Maheen had refused to see Jasper the other two times they’d brought him. Ava kept convincing her father to give his mother another chance, but she could see him spiral each time his mother rejected his attempts to speak with her. According to Maheen’s doctor, Jasper paid the bills, but he hadn’t visited since Ava—Maheen had attacked him three years before.
“Yeah,” Ava finally said. “He… He’s waiting with Malachi. If you want—”
“Not today.”
Not today.
Not no. Not never.
Not today. Which, in Ava’s mind, meant there was still hope. Maybe it was a small hope, but that was better than nothing.
“Do you know anything about gemstones?” Maheen asked.
“Gemstones?” Ava frowned. “Not much.”
“I studied history. I couldn’t go to the university, but my father brought me books. Gemstones have fascinating history. Mythology…”
Her eyes drifted to the wall over Ava’s head. They were sitting at a table having lunch in her room. Though her grandmother was allowed to walk throughout the estate now that her rages and seizures had calmed down, Maheen still preferred to live in isolation.
Her mind was a raw wound.
She resisted any attempts to learn shielding, explaining to Ava that she was used to the voices and it let her know when someone was approaching. The shield Jaron had forced over her at times had been stifling. She said it felt like a prison, and she didn’t want another.
“Do you think you’ll ever want to leave here?” Ava asked.
“I’ll have to someday.” She took a deep breath. “I’ve been preparing myself for months now. I’ve been here five years. I can only be somewhere for six or seven before they start to notice.
“You have time.”
“It might be better…”
Ava waited, but Maheen was staring out the window now.
“No one’s going to force you out,” Ava said. “And there are places you can go if you want to leave.”
Ava was thinking of the various scribe houses and libraries that had begun to open to Irina who wanted to rejoin Irin society, and a few kareshta who had found their way to them. She didn’t know if her grandmother would be open to it, but she could try.
Maheen shook her head. “Not now. Not yet.”
“Okay.”
Their eyes met over the pot of honey-sweetened tea Maheen had requested.
“Thank you,” her grandmother told her. “I know I’m not the easiest person to visit. I didn’t even bake cookies.”
Ava saw one of those rare glimpses in that moment. Fire and intelligence and humor. The spark of life that had woken an archangel and drawn the lethal attention of a predator.
“I know,” Ava said. “You’re really falling down on the grandmother thing.”
Maheen barked out a short laugh. “I was a horrible mother too.”
Her smile fell.
She didn’t talk about Jasper.
“What do you do,” Ava asked, “when you don’t have visitors? Do you paint a lot? I like your canvases.”
Maheen waved to a row of them stacked against a wall. “Take them. As many as you like. I run out of room.”
“Thanks.”
“I paint.” Maheen nodded. “I read. I can enjoy music again. But mostly…”
She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, an expression of utter peace falling across her face.
“I sleep.”
JASPER took a deep drag from another cigarette as they sat at the cafe in Toulouse. His coffee cup was empty. Ava was just glad it wasn’t a wineglass. After all, it was only ten in the morning. Spring had come early, so they were enjoying the morning sun as Malachi talked on his phone in the small park nearby. Talked and paced. Paced and scanned the streets.
“That guy ever calm down?” Jasper asked.
“Kinda.” She sipped her café au lait. “Not really.”
“I’m starting to think he’s more paranoid than Carl.”
“Old habits are hard to break.”
Jasper grunted. “I’m not complaining if it keeps you safe.”