She ripped two daggers from his coat and turned to scan her surroundings. The cemetery was still utterly empty except for the two men who stood at the end of the row, black against the limestone path. Ava turned and saw two more.
“They’re tracking me?” she asked.
“There are two more by the gate where you entered. How fast can you run?”
“Not fast enough.” She began whispering a spell of protection around her mind. She was mostly immune to Grigori seduction, but she didn’t want to take any chances. “If they’re just tracking me—”
“No.” Vasu cocked his head. “They want you. For what, I don’t know.”
Ava started running. There would be few taxis this far out of the city center. But the tram line ran near the main road. If she could get out of the gate…
“What are you doing?” Vasu ran beside her. Or did he? The Fallen didn’t even look like he was moving, but… he was.
“Trying to escape. I’m not stupid; it’s six against one. Are you going to help me or what?”
“I can’t really do anything to them unless they attack me. And they won’t attack me. It wouldn’t be courteous.”
“Must be nice!” She could hear their steps coming closer. “Listen,” she panted. “Really nice to meet you, but I’m kind of fighting for my life here, so if you’re not going to help—”
“If you promise to stay in Vienna, I will help.”
“What?” she rasped out a breath. “You too?”
She cursed the immortal lives of stubborn men everywhere.
“I want this to be over. I want to go back to Chittorgarh.”
“I don’t know where that is, but… fine. I’ll stay here.”
“You vow this?”
“Yes!”
“Excellent.”
Then Vasu grinned—actually grinned—and it was brilliant, beautiful, and utterly cruel. Her body came to a halt and Vasu came behind her.
“Turn.”
Ava spun and the two Grigori soldiers were right on top of her. The spell came to her mind immediately.
“Shanda vash,” Ava whispered, and she felt and heard the whisper of Vasu’s voice overlaying hers.
The Grigori soldiers didn’t just stop, they flew back as if thrown by an invisible hand.
“Man.”
“Good,” he whispered in her ear. “Now sing with me.”
He whispered again, and she moved, racing toward the Grigori, both blades in her hands. She could feel Vasu like a shadow at her back.
Magic hummed in her veins as she whispered the next spell. “Ba dahaa.”
Both men screamed, clutching their temples in agony as she leapt on them.
“Now,” Vasu whispered, and she kicked one in the side, her body reacting as if she were a trained soldier. The thought was in the back of her mind that she wasn’t entirely in control of her body, but when she heard the shouts of the other Grigori and the approaching footsteps, she ignored it.
“Now, Ava!”
She twisted the head of one Grigori to the side, plunging the silver dagger into his neck. He began to dissolve beneath her, even as his friend tried to roll away.
Vasu pushed her toward him, whispering another spell in her ear.
“Zi yada,” she hissed and the soldier froze.
These weren’t Irina spells. Had nothing to do with what she’d been taught, but Vasu whispered them in her ear, the formless mass of him at her back, and she repeated his words, the dark power in her rising to the surface.
Not Irina magic. Fallen magic.
It came as easy as breathing.
“Kareshta,” Vasu murmured as she plunged the dagger into the neck of the second Grigori. “Beautiful.”
He rose as she did, turning and stripping off her coat so she could move. Her black shirt clung to her body like a second skin, and Ava ran toward the men who would pursue her, gold eyes flashing in rage, with Vasu pressing against her back.
They killed my son in front of my eyes… the last thing he saw was animals raping his mother.
Constance’s pain was all she could hear as she threw her remaining knife, catching a Grigori in the eye.
“Zi yada!”
The Grigori collapsed to the ground and froze.
Another knife was in her hand, pressed there by Vasu’s hand.
“Again.”
Another dagger flung. Another bleeding Grigori on the ground.
He writhed as Ava ran to him, Vasu her shadow and the dust of the first two Grigori coating her lips.
The rage took her, spurred by the angel’s voice in her ear.
“Kill him.”
Ava didn’t kill him cleanly. She stabbed the soldier in the gut twice, slicing up to his throat, slashing it as his blood spurted over her and tears ran down her face. Vasu’s voice still whispered in her ear.
“They killed your sisters. Take your revenge. You deserve it and more.”
She felt her gorge rise as she flipped the man over and stabbed him in the back of the neck.
“No more,” Ava groaned.
“Finish it.”
She plunged the blade into the neck of the fourth Grigori and waited, her hand frozen as the gold dust began to rise around her.
Vasu was in front of her, crouching down with fire in his eyes.
“The other two fled.”
“Okay,” she sobbed.
“That was beautiful, Ava.”
Then Vasu leaned forward and gently kissed her on the lips.