whispers. Not murmurs. They were actually
“I’m not crazy,” she whispered with a smile. “I’m really not.”
Ava cracked the door open and peeked out. Malachi’s bedroom was at the end of a dark hallway, and she could see stairs leading down. The room below glowed with morning light, and that was where the voices came from.
“Don’t chicken out now, Ava.” She patted her cheeks and left the room, walking slowly toward the stairs. The voices began to rise, and she paused.
They were arguing.
She heard Malachi and another man arguing. Another, calmer voice occasionally chimed in, but mostly she heard Malachi.
Beautiful. Rise and fall. The cadence of his voice in the unknown language drew her closer. She reached the stairs and started down. No one halted the argument as she walked. When she reached the bottom, she realized she was in a large open living area with couches and tables. There was even a flat-screen television surrounded by chairs in one corner, but the voices were coming from a room off the main one, a room with a door half open.
Ava walked toward it. The arguing was getting even more intense, but she told herself to be brave. She had to know what was going on. Where the hell was she? Who did they work for? She was assuming she wasn’t a hostage or prisoner, because she could see the front door from where she stood. No one guarded it. No alarms were going off. There was only intense arguing coming from unknown voices. She took a deep breath and walked in.
As soon as she stepped through the doorway, everything stopped. The arguing. Any and all movement. It was as if they had frozen.
She waited for someone to break the silence before she finally lifted a hand. “Hey.”
There were five men. Five very large men. She recognized Leo in the corner as he lifted a hand and smiled. Ava smiled back, relieved that someone was acting friendly. There was another man next to him who looked like he could be his brother, but his mouth only gaped in shock. Ava’s eyes swept the frozen room. Sitting at a desk, a tall, lanky man with black hair and very pale skin watched her with cautious green eyes. He didn’t smile, but he didn’t glare, either. And across the room, which appeared to be a library, Malachi stood with another man, braced for a fight.
The other man was even bigger than Malachi, almost a giant. His hair came down to his shoulders, but she could only see his back and bare arms, arms that were covered in the same intricate tattoos she’d seen in the book.
“Oh! The… the men. The ones in the manuscript? They have the same tattoos!”
Ava looked for Malachi, her eyes alight with curiosity, only to realize that—for the first time—his own arms were bare. He’d always worn long sleeves. Always. But he didn’t now, and the intricate tattoo work that she knew started at his collar crawled down his arms, covering his forearms and biceps. The words were scrawled at odd angles, like they’d been added and crowded into every available inch of skin. She looked at Leo. To the black- haired man.
“Holy shit, you all have them. Just like the men in the book.”
The giant threw up his arms and yelled, “I can’t believe you showed her one of the books, too!”
Malachi said, “Damien, she has to know.”
“Does secrecy mean nothing to you? Does the safety of our race—”
“She’s part of it!”
“She can’t be! We’ve searched the records. We know where she was born. We know who her mother is. There is no trace of—”
“Forget the records and look at her!” Malachi strode over to Ava, who stepped back. He slowed and held up his hands. “Please, Ava. I have to show them.”
She gulped. “Show them what?”
“What are you doing?” The green-eyed man’s voice was concerned. “Malachi, you mustn’t—”
“Trust me,” Malachi whispered, meeting her eyes. Ava felt instantly secure, warm and safe, despite the strangers surrounding her. Their inner voices, all alive since she’d walked into the room, were practically shouting now. “I won’t hurt you.”
“I know,” she said. “I know you won’t.”
The green-eyed man rose to his feet as his hands reached out. “Malachi!”
Malachi stepped behind her, wrapping one arm around her waist as the giant named Damien yelled, “No!” He lunged toward Ava and Malachi, but before he could reach them, he halted, and his eyes went wide with shock.
She felt Malachi’s finger trace along her collarbone and she shivered at the sensation. His finger moved up and down along her exposed skin. Was he writing? Her eyes were glued to the reactions of the men around her. Damien, who had been lunging toward them, fell to his knees, suddenly staring up at Ava with a wild expression of awe. The green-eyed man was just as shocked, his mouth frozen in an
“You see?” Malachi pleaded. “It’s true. She does not faint at my touch.”
She might not faint, but swooning was a definite possibility if he kept drawing on her skin like that. It felt amazing and oddly intimate. She blushed furiously, aware of all the eyes on them as Malachi held her.
“Malachi, you have to…” She tried to push his arm away, but he wouldn’t let go of her. He did, however, stop writing on her skin. She felt his mouth at her ear.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”
“It’s fine,” she whispered as his hand moved down her arm again. She glanced down to see his heavily marked forearm still around her waist, holding her up. His other arm lay against hers, and his finger was trailing… She blinked rapidly. “Holy shit, there are gold letters all over my arm.”
Then everything went black.
When she woke up this time, afternoon sun shone on the red roofs outside the window, and Malachi sat on the edge of the bed, a cool washcloth pressed to her forehead. In the chair by the desk, Damien also sat, unabashedly staring. Ava pushed Malachi’s hand away and sat up.
“What happened?”
“You fainted.” Malachi smiled. “And Damien was convinced that I’d killed you until I picked you up and showed him how deeply you were breathing. Are you all right?”
“Why would you have killed me? And where am I?”
Damien spoke from the corner. “You are in the Irin scribe house of Istanbul, Ava Matheson. And my brother’s touch would have eventually killed you… if you were human. But you’re not entirely human, are you?”
She blinked and rubbed her eyes. “What are you talking about? Of course I’m human.” She turned to Malachi. “And so are…”
She couldn’t say it, because in that moment, Ava knew it wasn’t true. Not entirely. The book. The strange tattoos. The language.
“Are you people aliens?” she whispered.
Malachi burst out laughing, and Damien rolled his eyes.
“What?” She was indignant. “What am I supposed to think?”
“Not aliens!”
“Well, I’m glad this is so funny to you, Mal. I’m just rolling with laughter here.”
Damien said, “We are not aliens, Ms. Matheson.”
“So, what are you?” She pulled her legs up and wrapped her arms around them.
Malachi smiled and put his hand on her bare foot. “We are the Irin. The heavenly race.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Do you know history?” Damien asked. “Think about human myths and legends. Genesis. The Book of Enoch. The heroes of Greek myth. You have written about us; you just never knew the whole story. Haven’t you heard the
