Ties That Bind: A Muse Urban Fantasy (The Veil Series Book 5)

by Pippa Dacosta

  He studied me, the heavy trawl of his gaze as intimate as if he touched me with his hands. Demons, I silently grumbled. A smile darted across his lips. He poofed out of existence, leaving clouds of dust motes swirling in the spot he’d vacated. A moment later, his slippery whisper poured into my ear. “You are half a thing.”

  I spun but found only air. My father gave a low warning growl. “Pride, enough. My daughter has earned her place. Challenge her if you wish, but you will fail, and we cannot afford to lose another of our kin.”

  A whisper teased across my shoulder. “Would you like to be challenged, half blood?” Shivers trickled down my spine. The fire in my veins throbbed hotter. His words slid through me—over me—like a summer breeze.

  I clamped my teeth together and bit back a reply. It was a game. Bait me, watch me snap, and see how easily he could crush my spine. Well, I wasn’t playing his games. I’d’ve poked my tongue out if I’d been sure he wouldn’t rip it out. Seconds dragged on, and when I didn’t respond in any way, Pride poofed back into existence beside Gluttony. Ruffling his wings like a rook settling in its roost, he tossed me a wide, hungry grin. I’d have to watch him. The smile didn’t fool me for a second.

  The princes conversed in demon-English, punctuated with growls and snarls and then digressed into the old language, which I didn’t have a hope of understanding. When I did catch words, I assumed they discussed broken laws, and punishment, which appeared to be execution more often than anything else. I wasn’t sure what I’d expected, but politics wasn’t it.

  “Baal is secured near Iezah,” Gluttony said, his words as abrasive as his skin. “If he succeeds in permanently restoring the veil, we will be trapped in this dying world. The human world is ripe, ready for our taking. They have no defense against chaos.”

  I maintained a half-bored expression and concentrated on the rhythm of my breathing. Any spike of element would give me away. Pride angled his head. Those eyes without pupils made it almost impossible to see where he was looking, but the flutter of air across my skin left me in no doubt where he focused his element.

  “He has fled inside the stones where his glyphs are at their strongest,” Asmodeus replied.

  “Leave him. He can do nothing alone.” This from Pride.

  “No.” My father straightened his back. His wings eased open. “He is weak. He will perish, and his strength will be ours. With Destruction’s help, we can overpower him, and with our combined elements, scatter him. He would never let us near, but Muse… Muse he will permit inside his sanctum. She can lure him out.”

  Bored face. Keep it calm. Be demon. Be as cool as Stefan’s ice. “Baal is no fool,” I said.

  Asmodeus angled toward me, and the heat in his glare lapped against my skin. “He has lived too long in the human world. Like Greed, his mind has suffered. He will allow you close for his loyalty to Greed, if nothing else.”

  Loyalty. It was a foreign concept for demons. Could a King of Hell appreciate loyalty? I hoped so because I was going to him with my heart on my sleeve. He was my last hope this whole mess could be fixed.

  “And what am I to do when close to him?” Surrounded by the feared and revered Princes of Hell, I plastered a demon expression of mild interest on my face. And against all the odds, it worked. Akil would have been proud.

  “Convince him to leave his sanctuary. Summon the blade, and cleave his element from his physical body. We will do the rest.”

  I smiled, making sure to flash sharp teeth, while inside, my thoughts chased themselves in circles. “Convince him how?”

  It was Asmodeus’s turn to smile, but his turned my bravado into mush. “You entertained Mammon for years. You have talents. Use them.” Asmodeus nodded toward Pride. “Pride will teach you to summon the blade.”

  Oh joy, I got to spend time with him. I dipped my chin in acknowledgement and caught Pride’s sideways leer.

  The meeting ended without incident. I’d rather hoped I might sharpen my claws on some demon hides. In fact, as I walked away from the throne room and through the fortress corridors, it felt too easy. The princes might not be as reckless as the other higher demons, but they were all Princes of Hell for a reason. At least one should have tested me. Only Pride had seemed inclined.

  Speak of the devil…

  The sight of a delicious, black-skinned human male in my bedchamber, sprawled naked on my bed of furs, interrupted my thoughts and tripped my stride. Demon I might have been, but I wasn’t immune to blatant displays of raw masculinity. He wore human skin as well as Akil had, but Pride’s was so dark, he practically absorbed the light pooling in the valleys and ripples of toned muscle. I skipped my gaze away and attempted to ignore him, but he’d already seen my jaw drop and my eyes widen. Damn. Points to him for the surprise factor. While I couldn’t blush, fiery embers did trace through my veins as my heart rate increased.

  “Girl, bring that fine demon ass over here, and let us get down and dirty.”

  My mouth fell open. If the display hadn’t been enough, his contemporary speech did me in. I had no idea what to say.

  “I have been informed you prefer the human appearance.” And just like that, he’d switched to perfectly precise British English. No hint of a growl. He easily could have been a news anchor with that accent.

  Eventually, my thoughts reassembled themselves into a coherent order, and I could speak again. “W-why are you here?” I strode toward the cold fireplace, keeping him in the corner of my eye. He rolled onto his side, propped his head on a hand, and stretched out lean, toned limbs.

  “The blade.” He admired his sharp, claw-like human nails. “Mm, such fragile skin… It is a wonder they do not spend their entire lives bleeding.”

  Ah, the ethereal blade. The weapon I was supposed to use to debilitate Jerry. I was having trouble getting my head round a Prince of Hell who could switch accents the way I switched expressions and looked delicious enough to eat. If I asked him to cover up, he’d assume his nakedness unsettled me and would probably turn an inconvenience into something worse. Demons didn’t do clothing. They didn’t really do human either. Pride did human too well.

  He caught me watching him and smiled the kind of knowing smile that said he was drop-dead sexy, and he knew it. That’s Pride for you. The expression tugged a little on the scar beginning at his lip. “You do like this form. Interesting. Was this how Greed distracted you?” He propped his head onto a hand and arched a leg.

  I suddenly found the view beyond the window extremely interesting. “Please,” I blustered. “I preferred you demon.”

  “Your scent reveals otherwise. I have rucked with humans, both male and female, and found it complicated. You are demon. Things are far more straightforward.” He raked his gaze from my wing tip to my toes. “You are Lust’s daughter. Color me intrigued.”

  “No.” My tone shut him down. He pouted. I never would have believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes. The Prince of Pride, an immortal chaos demon, pouted. I somehow worked my mouth around a smile and swallowed back a bubble of laughter. “When were you with human men and women?”

  “I’ve spent some time in their settlement called Holly Wood.”

  “Hollywood, Los Angeles?”

  “The City of Angels. Ironic. Don’t you think?”

  I leaned my rump against the wall beside the window and snaked my arms crossed. Akil had once told me that the devil was in Hollywood. I’d thought he’d been joking. Did that mean the demon currently on my bed was Satan? The Satan. “Do you have a name, besides Pride?”

  “’Li’el.” He pronounced it lee-ell. “But you’d recognize me by my more infamous names.”

  Okay then. Satan was sprawled on my bed. Lacy would throw a squealing fit. “What does the Prince of Pride do in Hollywood?”

  “Much debauchery.” His all black eyes swirled, and his lips tucked into his cheeks, producing a smile that could win an Oscar.

  Yes, I would have to watch this one. He clearly knew more than the sheltered demo
ns from the netherworld. He certainly knew how to unsettle me. “This is not normal princely behavior. You should be threatening to peel my skin from my bones. Growling, drooling, and brandishing a blade.”

  He flourished a hand to encompass the length of his body. “I am unarmed.”

  His mind was sharp though. “I can clearly see that.”

  “I wanted to converse with you about a number of things.” He pushed himself upright and stood, making a deliberate show of his perfect male form. I refused to look away and pinched my lips closed. He stalked forward like a model on a catwalk. I’m sexy, and I know it. Hell, help me. “I believe you to be an opportunist. In that, we are alike. In Boston, I witnessed you burn thousands of my kin in the time it took to draw breath and flee. I do not doubt your talents. No demon who had witnessed such a display would ever doubt the Mother of Destruction. Unlike Asmodeus, I do not believe you can be controlled. I’d like to keep this handsome vessel unburned.”

  “That’s very…practical of you.”

  “I believe that you, like any prince, have your own motives for walking among us. If you are at all like your tutor, you will manipulate to your last breath to procure your desires.” Evidently, he knew Akil well. Li’el stopped inside my personal space and planted a hand against the wall beside my head. The light from the window illuminated a devastatingly beautiful face. Up close, the scar cut deeply. Ragged edges told me it had healed slowly. Considering how the immortal princes generally healed everything within seconds, I had to wonder what or who had given him that scar. And why.

  “I will be on the winning side when the dust settles,” he said, head cocked. “You are not what you seem. One wing, half human, half demon. For all your faults, you are stronger.”

  “And you are clearly more intelligent than I’d given you credit for. So where does that leave us?”

  “Should the tide turn in your favor, I will stand beside you. Should you fail, I’ll draw the air from your lungs and suffocate you where you stand.” He leaned in so close I could smell his sweetness. Cheek to cheek, he turned his head so that I found myself peering into those swirling eyes. “Greed lingers about you still. So close, I almost hear him.”

  “Greed is dead.”

  “Mm, so I have been told.” He trailed a fingertip between my breasts and winced as my skin burned him. “I hear a great many things. You killed your owner. Da’mean, was it? An air elemental. I hear you carry his soul inside you.”

  His information was out of date. “I do.”

  “A heavy burden?”

  “What’s your point?”

  “I find your resilience and power highly agreeable.”

  I’d gathered that from his state of arousal. Typically demon, my being a mass murderer turned him on. That was something I could definitely use. It wouldn’t hurt to have the Prince of Pride on my side. “Show me how to summon the blade.”

  Lifting his chin, he stepped back and swept a hand low in a dramatic bow. “As you wish.” He smirked, and in the next step dropped the human suit for his insubstantial demon form. Wings unfurled behind him, feathers rustling. “The blade comes to those with precise control. This is why it is mostly in the hands of princes. But you already open and close the veil with ease, and the blade is made of the same forces as the veil. Control is something you must master.”

  I arched a brow. “Control and I don’t get along. Besides, there must be more. Otherwise, you’d all be summoning it whenever you stepped on each others tails.”

  He moved like smoke, drifting, coiling, creeping. One moment, I’d think I had him focused, and the next he’d dissolve and reappear a few feet to the side. It reminded me of ghost stories, and I wondered how many people he’d spooked in his immortal life.

  He lifted a hand, and with a flick of his wrist, the blade appeared. Blue flame licked across the wide flank of the blade itself. It was a two-handed broadsword. Pride held it aloft as though it weighed no more than a bag of sugar. Considering it was about as long as I was tall, I’d likely struggle to lift it at all.

  “Call it as you do your element. Reach out with all you are. If you are not worthy, it will not come.” He let it fall from his hand. I expected it to clatter to the floor, but it dissipated in silence almost immediately after he’d released it.

  Pride’s body solidified and sharpened. “Try.”

  I lifted a hand and mentally reached inside. The veil rippled gently in the background, much weaker than it should be. I probed at it and formed the image of the blade in my mind. Nothing happened.

  Pride grinned, apparently taking great pleasure in my failure.

  I tried again, rolled my shoulders, flexed my wing, and closed my eyes. C’mon, how hard can it be if a handful of the netherworlds-most-crazy can do it? Round two was another failure.

  “Perhaps you do not know what you are.”

  “Oh, I know what I am.”

  “Do you?” He circled me. One moment solid, the next liquid smoke. “You have it in you to be great, but you shy away from your potential. The blade will not come to one so conflicted.”

  “I’m part human. I’m always conflicted.”

  “Perhaps. We will have to work on that.”

  I reached with all the mental strength I had, and still nothing came. Pride’s wispy self drifted and spiraled. Every time I failed, anger and frustration plucked at my patience. Stefan was locked in the bowels of the fortress, and I was playing mind-games with the Prince of Pride. “Again,” Pride would say in that absurd accent. Again. Again. I’ll give you again. When I summon this damn, blade I’m going to carve you a new cakehole. Again. Time had marched on, and the netherworld air thinned. We could have been practicing for hours. Every second I failed was another second Stefan had to spend rotting in that stall, another second demons ran rampant and people died, another second closer to Asmodeus figuring out I was playing him.

  “You’re angry,” Pride said after I’d failed yet again to summon the blade and blasted the fireplace with a burst of flame instead.

  “No shit, Sherlock.”

  “Angry. Confused. Grief stricken. Guilt surrounds you like a fog. I’m surprised you can function at all with all those emotions distracting you. Your humanity weakens you.”

  “Fuck you.”

  “Please.”

  Ugh. I slumped on the end of the bed and ran my hands over my face, up my horns, and down the back of my neck, dislodging ash and embers. The blade wasn’t coming because I wasn’t ready.

  “There’s an easier way.” Pride solidified a few feet in front of me and crouched down to eye level. Looking into his eyes was like looking into forever. “Be demon.”

  “I am,” I growled. I couldn’t be any more demon. I’d poured lust into Stefan. I’d slaughtered thousands of my kin. I had demon thoughts merrily prancing around my head telling me to shred Pride’s dark chocolate skin and gobble him up.

  “You’re both. You’re human and demon. While frankly remarkable, your humanity can’t help you here. The blade is elemental. You are in the netherworld. You’re surrounded by immortal elementals. Forget your emotions. I think you’ll find it liberating.”

  His haughty Englishness began to grate. “I don’t want it to be liberating. I just want the blade so I can end the King of Hell and please my father.”

  Pride’s eyes narrowed, and a slippery smile crawled across his lips. “You lie the way he did: with a measure of truth.”

  I blinked. He could only mean Mammon. “I’m not lying.” How the hell did he know?

  He reached out a hand. I jerked my head away and snarled a warning. “Your human expressions are bleeding through your demon face. My brethren don’t recognize them, but I do.”

  I batted his hand back, stood, and stalked to the fireplace. “Again.”

  He dispersed into a cloud of dust and then reformed facing me. “I enjoy masochism as much as the next demon, but I have better things to do with my infinite time than watch you fret over your human feelings. Summon me when yo
u are ready to let go of your emotional baggage.” He poofed out of my chamber. I spat then added a string of colorful curses. This was too slow. I had to do more. I needed the key, the blade, to get to Jerry, to bring Akil back. I needed to get the hell away from this nightmare. I want to go home. I had to get out of these black walls and away from these wretched demons. Another second in that damned chamber and I’d explode.

  I flung open the chamber door and strode down the halls, out into the courtyard, and through the battlements, into the night gardens, which hugged the fortress boundaries. Demon howls barreled through the thick night air. I dragged that sickly air through my teeth and gulped it down. Bring it on, netherworld. You wanna fuck with me? Here I am. I broke into a loping run and then a sprint and tore through the undergrowth. I didn’t care where I was going or that there were things out here that would devour me in one bite. I couldn’t stay in Mammon’s fortress a moment longer.

  Fire pulsed in my chest and lapped up my wing.

  The foliage spat me out on a rocky outcrop. I skidded to a halt on a large flat rock. In the gorge below, lessers squabbled for scraps. Above, hunters circled, cawing to one another. Lightening scored the sky, but no thunder followed—the netherworld in all of its ugly beauty. Breaths sawed through my teeth. My demon heart hammered. At least the netherworld was honest. It was what it was.

  Is this what awaited Boston?

  “It is yours.”

  Panic slammed through my thoughts before I could stop it. Asmodeus stood so close his heat sizzled against my wing. At least I could blame my thundering heart on the sprint. He trailed his hand up the rise of my wing. Oh, god, no. My skin quivered and muscles twitched. I had nowhere to go. Ahead, there was a several-hundred-foot drop into the gorge. At least with my back to him, he couldn’t see my lips curl.

  “You could destroy it all. There is no greater power.”