“Melek’s children?” Max asked. “Born to a Yazidi mother then?”
The man nodded. “Melek sells his daughters. He sends all of them away except for his guards. I took her away from the people who bought her. She was in a village, so I brought her to Damascus. She didn’t like the city, but she was coping. For some reason, the voices weren’t as bad when we were together.”
Max felt ancient magic run along his skin when he realized what the man was saying. He looked at Renata and realized that she’d understood as well.
“Because she’s your reshon,” Renata murmured. “Your touch will make the voices go away.” She looked stunned. Dazed. She looked between Max and the Grigori, then stepped back and lowered her knives. “Max?”
He shook his head. “I know it seems improbable, but…”
“Are you going to kill me?” the Grigori asked.
Renata’s face was blank. “When was the last time you killed a human?”
The man’s eyes filled with guilt. “Seventy years. When was the last time you killed a Grigori?”
Renata sheathed her knives. “Ten days.”
The man’s face went pale. “They need me. I know I’m a murderer, but please don’t take me away from them.”
Max stepped between Renata and the Grigori. “We can talk about this.”
Her eyes were blank and cold. Nevertheless, Max was hopeful. The knives were put away.
Renata jerked her head toward the passageway. “Follow me.”
“I can’t leave Thawra and Evin in the caves alone.”
“We’ll pass them on the way back,” Max said. He grabbed Renata’s hand and knit their fingers together. “Are you ready?”
“No,” Renata said. “But I can lead them back to the library. They can shelter there until the weather clears. Then I want them gone.”
It probably took an hour to get back to the library, twisting and turning through the maze of passages and caverns. Only Evin, the little Grigori girl, and Renata seemed to know the way. Max helped the Grigori, who introduced himself as Zana, and Thawra, his mate, carry the satchels with their clothes and food stores.
“How long have you been in the caverns?” Max asked Zana.
“About two years. We had made a small house in the mountains behind the big house we saw in the meadow. But when the snow came, we started to look for more solid shelter. We worry about Evin most of all. Contact with Thawra keeps her steady, but there’s nothing I can do for Evin. If she’s around people, she can’t block it out. Her hearing is too acute.”
Max saw Evin following Renata, staring up at the Irina warrior with wide, awestruck eyes.
“She doesn’t know anything,” Zana said. “Evin is an innocent. She knows nothing of our world. She didn’t even realize she wasn’t human when we lived in Damascus. She thought everyone heard the whispers. That’s what she called them. ‘The whispers.’ We lived a quiet, peaceful life for years, but the war reached us when she was five. There was so much horror. The voices of the dying and the grieving. She and Thawra both started to shut down. Then our own home was destroyed. We had to leave. We made it here, but we’ll always be in hiding.”
“Are you Turkish?” Max said.
“My mother was Kurdish.”
Max glanced at Thawra. “And she’s Yazidi?”
“Our human blood means nothing to us, but we could be killed anywhere we went if the humans knew where we came from. We couldn’t stay in Syria. Turkey is complicated too. Europe seemed like the only option.”
“Why Italy?”
“Thawra was studying Italian before the war. She wanted to read Dante in the original language. I can speak nearly anything if I see it written. It seemed like the best place, and it’s easy to get lost in the mountains here.”
Max asked, “Does she speak?” He watched the thin woman walking behind Renata, her hand clutching her daughter’s hand.
“She can. She usually doesn’t. She never has as long as I’ve known her.” Sorrow and devotion were written clearly on the man’s face. “Sometimes in her sleep she’ll talk.”
“Was Melek abusive?”
“He’s insane.” Zana’s voice turned hard. “Not abusive. Not exactly. Unlike most of the Fallen, he thinks his daughters are his most precious children. In the past, he would sell them to various tribes as prophets and seers. He doesn’t understand that the world doesn’t work that way anymore. Most people don’t believe in prophets and seers. When he sold his children to modern humans…”
Heaven above. They’d put Melek’s daughters in asylums. Burn them as witches. Or worse. Zana had mentioned Thawra being sold, but Max didn’t want to pry.
“We’ll get you help,” Max said. “I don’t know how, but we’ll figure something out.”
As far as Max knew, no other Irin had encountered what Thawra, Zana, and Evin were: a true Grigori family. Thawra and Zana were mated, though it was doubtful any kind of ceremony had taken place. Evin was born from their union. A child of half-human and half-angelic blood, the same as the Irin. She was a second-generation Grigori child. Her powers would be formidable and possibly different from anything they’d known. Closer to the odd powers Ava and Malachi’s children were exhibiting than anything they’d encountered before.
Whatever they were, Max wanted to help them. He recognized someone who was searching for a home.
9
Renata lay on the bed, listening to the bustle of activity below. Max was being charming with the child, making her laugh and playing the guitar for her. He’d fed the family and found more blankets and sleeping bags for them, building a comfortable resting place in the library where her people had been slaughtered.
What are you doing to me, Maxim?
Renata felt like a monster, but she couldn’t be near them. Even the voice of the male made her ill. The smell of sandalwood in her house drove her mad. As soon as the small family left, she’d have to open all the windows to rid the house of the scent or risk going crazy.
She heard someone on the stairs and sat bolt upright in bed. Luckily, after a few seconds she recognized Max’s step.
He poked his head in the doorway. “How are you?”
She shook her head and motioned him in. “Close the door, please.”
Max did, then came to the bed, crawling next to her and wrapping her in his arms.
“I can’t imagine what you’re feeling,” he said. “So I’m not going to say I understand. But thank you for letting them stay.”
“I’m not going to send a child into a storm,” she said. “Not going to send a helpless woman out there either.”
“But the man?”
“If he were alone, he’d already be dead.”
Max squeezed her tighter. “You realize he’s Ava’s uncle. In a sense.”
“She doesn’t know him. She’d never feel the loss.”
“Does that make it right?”
“For the women he killed in the past? Yes. For the humans he preyed on before he found a conscience? Yes, killing him seems right.”
Max didn’t say anything. “Part of me knows you’re right. Part of me knows that murder is murder. And we can’t forget that.”