Page 40 of The Storm
“I’m trying to help you!” Max shouted. “Both of you need to listen. Do you want your daughter to be an orphan?”
“She’s better off an orphan than under the thumb of a monster like him!” Renata said.
“Will you listen to yourself!” Max shouted, his arms up, still trying to defuse the two combatants. “Renata, this is a father protecting his mate and child. Would you kill him for protecting his child?”
“She’skareshta,” Renata said. “She’s not his.”
“I’ve seen her. Seen the mother. Seen him. The girl looks exactly like him. Her mother may bekareshta, but that child isn’tkareshta. She’s a free Grigori child, born of free Grigori parents. They are not our enemy.”
“I am free of my sire.” The man’s voice came out rough, speaking in heavily accented English. “Thawra is not free. That is part of why we are in hiding.”
Max muttered, “Not helping.”
Renata had lost the furious rage and looked more confused than murderous. “What are you talking about?”
“I am free,” the Grigori said. He kept his knife up, but his posture relaxed incrementally. “My sire, Jaron, is dead. I was living in Damascus when I felt him die.”
“But your mate,” Max said. “She is not free?”
“No. I agreed to help her brothers for safety in their city. She’s the daughter of Melek. Many of her brothers have tried to kill their father, but they have failed.”
“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 yourreshon,” 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 tookan 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.
