Page 158 of The Seeker
“We need to call Istanbul and check on the children.”
She nodded. “We can do that.”
“Damien and Sari?”
“Alive and conscious. You were the one who bore the brunt of Bozidar’s attack.” She was crying too, wiping the tears from his face. “You were the one who let him in.”
“He’s dead.” The angel must be dead, or his courageous mate would still be fighting.
“He’s dust,” Meera said. “Facing judgment before the Creator now.”
It was over.
Rhys coughed and looked around the room, not recognizing where they were. “What is this?”
“My old room at the house. Unfortunately, our tent and most of the outbuildings were burned. The house is okay though.”
Rhys tried to sort through his muddled memories of the battle. “What started the fire?”
“Sabine.” Meera pulled away, and her expression was stricken. “The Grigori killed a girl. Sabine saw them, lost control, and…”
“Is everything gone?” He pulled Meera back to his chest; even a little distance between them felt unbearable.
“Of course not.” She wrapped her arms around him. “We’re here. We lost five of our people, and many more were injured, but far more survived. We killed an archangel. We protected our home.”
“We let him in,” Rhys murmured. “What were we thinking?”
“He felt safe.” Meera took a deep breath. “Thatthinglived across the road from us, knowing who and what we were for decades. Taunting us right under our noses even though we couldn’t see him. Watching and waiting for a moment of weakness.”
“They can’t feel safe,” Rhys said.
“If they feel safe, then no one—not Irin or Grigori, and definitely not human—can feel safe. We have to change the rules. In a fair fight, any Irin warrior can stop any Grigori. We’ve played fair and we’ve mastered them.”
“But we’re battling a hydra, chopping off heads that only regrow.”
She nodded. “We have to aim for the heart.”
“Aim for the Fallen.”
“And have mercy on the sons.”
It was a difficult thing to wrap his mind around, especially after waking from a nightmare. “Ask me tomorrow for mercy. Right now I need to remember you’re alive.”
Rhys and Meerawashed together in the bathhouse, which had only taken a little bit of fire damage, and hid in Meera’s room. After a short visit from his parents and hers—along with a call to Istanbul—he locked the door and took her to bed.
The first time they made love was urgent and necessary. The second time was tender. The third sent them both into dreams.
They walkedhand in hand through a path in the fields. Rustling cane whispered around them and night birds sang overhead.
“I saw you here before.”
He turned to her. “Before?”
“Before I knew you.”
“How did you see me?”
She kissed his knuckled. “I loved you then as I love you now. I just hadn’t met you yet.”
