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

by Pippa Dacosta

  Mammon punched me down into the earth with a blow that would have instantly killed me had I been human. My left horn took most of the impact, as did my left shoulder, wing, and hip. The grip around my throat had gone. Instincts surged, and hooking a knee under me, I levered myself up and bolted. I managed two steps before my wing snagged. My legs tripped out from under me, and I was hauled backward. I reached for fire and flame, but none came inside Jerry’s sanctum.

  Mammon held me aloft by my wing. “Little half-blood deceiver.” His voice bubbled and snarled around sharp teeth.

  I kicked out and swung for him, but he stood outside my pathetic reach. “Mammon, let me go!”

  His lips curled, carving a smile into his savage face. “You killed thousands of my kin.”

  No, no… What was this? Why was he treating me like the enemy? “Don’t you remember? I did that to stop the battle, to protect Boston. You were there. We fought together.”

  His molten eyes narrowed. “I fought beside my King. Not a half blood.”

  “Don’t you know me?”

  “I know you. Mother of Destruction. Asmodeus’s daughter. Valenti’s sister. Deathbringer. Demonkiller.”

  This was not how I imagined our reunion. Dangling by my one wing, I craned my neck for Jerry and saw him behind me, leaning against one of the stone uprights, with apparently no intention of intervening. “Jerry… Help me. Explain to Mammon what happened.”

  Jerry blinked and uncrossed his arms. With a weary sigh, he ran a hand over his shaven head, pushed away from the stone, and came toward me. “Mammon, Muse saved your soul. You owe her a debt. I need her to retrieve the queen. Do not harm her.” He said each word calmly, precisely, with no hint of emotion. Control.

  Mammon’s jaw worked, and the fire tracing through his body flared just that little bit higher. “She is destruction.”

  “She is also human, which makes her reasonable… Most of the time. You told me in the past to trust her. Remember her, Greed. Remember all of her, not just what you see before you.”

  I dangled limply in his grip. I’d have given anything to have strength like his. I was fast, agile, but tiny, compared to Mammon. He’d well and truly caught me, and without my element, I was weak, fragile, demon… I’m just demon… Akil.

  “Where’s Akil?” I demanded. Both Jerry and Mammon looked at me like I’d just asked them where they’d buried a body. “I know he’s in there.”

  Mammon’s smile faded. “Ahkeel was a vessel of my creation. That vessel perished to save you.”

  “No.” Goddammit, this wasn’t how it was meant to be. “No. You listen to me, Mammon.” I pointed a finger, as ridiculous as the gesture was while dangling from his grip. “If he’s only a vessel, you can bring him back. Make him again. Do whatever it is you do to create a human body in the first place. Bring. Akil. Back.”

  “You are insolent,” he grumbled.

  “And you’re a huge pain in my ass.” Something like a snort erupted from Jerry, but I dared not look away from Mammon. Looking away was a weakness. I was not letting that big-ass, lava-veined, obsidian-skinned demon ruin everything. “Do it, or kill me because the second I leave this circle, I’m going to rip every last filament of fire right out of your volcanic skin. I’m going to swallow it all, and I’m going to tell the princes exactly where to find the impotent Prince of Greed, so they can tear you off your ego trip all over again because that was so much fun for you last time. Wasn’t it?”

  His grip on my wing tightened. Bone creaked, muscles burned, and for a horrible moment, I thought he’d snap my wing in two. I gasped. Jerry lunged, and somehow got between us with the elemental blade. Mammon dropped me. I landed on my ass with a jarring thump.

  “Greed, we need her. She speaks the truth. She can and will tear you down. Give her what she wants, and together, bring me my queen.”

  Mammon regarded Jerry with a curl of his lip. “The mighty king reduced to an alliance with a half blood.”

  “The half blood, Mammon. The one-winged Mother of Destruction. The half-demon girl you were tasked to watch. The girl you took to Boston. The girl you taught to be human. Remember, you obstinate fool. Remember it all, or be prepared to lose everything. Asmodeus wants my title. If he succeeds, the netherworld will never be healed, and all of this”— he tossed a hand out—“will devour the human world. You know it to be so. The princes will never stop. You were with them, once. You helped them bring about this unbalance. Make it right, Mammon. You, above all the elementals, are the one who can. Remember how you were as Ahkeel. Remember the things you wanted. Remember everything of their world that you coveted. Their freedom, their imagination. Remember your greed for their lives.”

  Mammon gave a snuffled humph and ruffled his wings. He turned away and paused along the fringe of the circle. Was he about to leave? I glanced at Jerry, but he glared at Mammon, a twitch fluttering in his cheek.

  I flicked my wing, working out the aches, and stiffly got to my feet. “How hard can it be?” I swept a hand over my arms and gave myself a shake, dislodging bits of debris and dirt. “Sexy guy, sexy suit, the smooth tongue, the lies. Mix it all together. Voila. Akil.”

  “He was unique.” Mammon grumbled, sending his gaze into the dark beyond the circle.

  Gritting my teeth, I growled. “Yes, he is. Now give him back.”

  Mammon stretched his wings wide. He rolled his shoulders and seemed to marvel at the rivulets of fire chasing beneath his skin. “He was me.” He lifted his gaze. “I know those feelings he had for you. Maddening insanity.”

  “Coward.”

  Mammon snarled. “He ended us for you. He is dangerous.”

  “He said the same about you once. Look, I don’t know if you’re him, or he’s you. I don’t care. I’m not leaving here without him. Your king has given you an order. I will destroy you. You do not have a choice.” It seemed choice was a rare commodity these days.

  Mammon cocked his head. His veins flared the way mine often did when battling my own turmoil. He was afraid. I saw it then: the truth. An immortal chaos demon was afraid of being human. I couldn’t blame him. I’d been on both sides, and being human was a lot more difficult than it looked. Demon was easy. Demon was simple. Human was…terrifying.

  I waited. Jerry waited. The entire netherworld waited, and Mammon held my gaze. Bring him back, and everything will be fine. You’ll see. The worlds need Akil.

  Mammon closed his eyes. The crackle of energy gathered around his huge body, and I witnessed him change as I had many times before, but this time, everything stopped. My thoughts, my heart. Mammon’s magnificent body rippled and dissolved, peeling open, pulling apart, before folding back in on itself. I’d never scrutinized the transformation before. It’s difficult, even through demon eyes, to observe how they make themselves human, but I watched it all, devoured every tiny detail, waiting for Akil to live again. The outline took shape first, like brushstrokes in a sketchbook. Inside the crackling, warping, mass, the body of a man emerged. Slowly, painfully, it solidified; and then more quickly, color rushed in, bronze skin, dark hair. It seemed to take an age and only a blink. And there he was.

  Akil.

  A dark suit—tailored to sophisticated perfection—seemed oddly out of place in the brutality of the netherworld. He flicked his wrists out and adjusted the cuffs the way he always did when briefly unbalanced. Could it be? Could he really be back? The tiny curl of his lips, the upward tilt of his glare through dark lashes…he looked every part the seductive know-it-all I fantasized about hating.

  Jerry sauntered over and extended an arm. A delicious smile slanted across Akil’s lips. He gripped Jerry’s forearm, and they shook in that old style, as if checking for weapons concealed against the wrist. “I can’t say I’m not pleased to see you,” Jerry said.

  “I see your abode has changed somewhat since we last spoke, Baal.” Akil cast his gaze over the stones.

  “A great deal has changed since we last spoke, Ahkeel.” Jerry turned toward me.
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  My thoughts stuttered. Akil sure sounded like Akil. That luscious accent: American with a hint of the eastern exotic. I hadn’t moved, and even when Akil turned to me, I couldn’t bring myself to go to him. His heated gaze settled on me. Go to him. I couldn’t. I was afraid, afraid this wasn’t real. He wasn’t real.

  “Muse.” He inclined his head, a sign of respect and acknowledgement.

  Since I’d realized I could bring him back, I’d imagined how I’d greet him. He’d have taken me in his arms as if, it had all been some cosmic error. But this wasn’t like that. Why did this feel so wrong? Shouldn’t I have been happy?

  He seemed to accept the fact I wasn’t going to go to him and moved forward. Lethal grace poured into his stride. He stopped close enough that I had to look up to meet his gaze. His spicy, evocative scent immediately hit me, and with it, the desire to wrap my arms around him, but still I couldn’t move. The eyes—those dark soul-deep eyes. His lips: sometimes hard, especially when pulled into a pressured smile and sometimes soft, like now, when he was relaxed. All my senses told me he was Akil, but…

  He cradled my demon hands in his, lifted them between us, and clasped them together. “I owe you a debt the likes of which can never be repaid.”

  I plucked my hands free and stepped back. “Akil, I…” I don’t trust this. I don’t trust you. How do I know—how can I ever know if you’re real?

  Maybe he saw the doubt in my eyes because the slightest of frowns collected shadows on his face.

  “I would like nothing more than to give you two some space,” Jerry said. “But I cannot leave this circle, and our time is short. You must return to Boston and locate the chaos-girl, Dawn. Be discreet. Should Asmodeus discover she lives, he’ll want her killed before she can be delivered to me.”

  Akil acknowledged the order with a nod. No questions. No hesitation. He offered his hand. “Come.”

  Chapter 19

  We returned to my apartment by way of a few uncomfortable reality hops. I retreated to my bedroom and dressed in an old pair of my jeans and a tank top. My fingers trembled. Bruises bloomed in uncomfortable places. My body delighted in reminding me I wasn’t all demon and had taken more than a few knocks. Exhaustion dulled my thoughts, which I considered to be a good thing. There really was too much to think about. Best not to think at all. Get to Adam. Get to Dawn. Save the world. Easy. I could do the thinking when it was over.

  Raking my hands through my scruffy hair, I returned to the living room, only to be struck by the normalcy of Akil standing beside my couch. I lingered in the doorway and deliberately fixed the scene in my mind. His unkempt hair was the only thing about him that had changed, at least on the outside. He must have preferred it that way, considering he could fix it with a thought. How could he appear so perfect, so calm, so…Akil, after everything we’d been through? I knew I barely resembled the naïve young woman I’d once been. I’d gained muscle and a snarl when I smiled. To say I’d collected a few new scars along the way was something of an understatement. But he was exactly the same as he’d always been. I should have found comfort in that, but I didn’t. I’d changed. He hadn’t. In that, there was a simple, painful truth I didn’t want to acknowledge.

  He allowed me a few moments before meeting my gaze with an inquiring one of his own. He looked me over the same way I’d assessed him, not hungrily, as it would have been once, but studying. “You’re…different.”

  I stayed quiet.

  “Leaner. Harder. Was it my death that did this?”

  I laughed the comment off. “Don’t flatter yourself. This is just me now. Demon and human. No more internal battles. No more crazy talk. I’m done with all of that.”

  He waited, and an uneasy quiet stretched between us. Considering he’d shared my soul for a few weeks, I couldn’t have felt more detached from him—from us. Tucking my hands in my pockets, I leaned back against the doorframe. “Akil, I need to ask you something, and I want you to answer honestly. I realize that’s like asking a shark to stop swimming, but I need you to tell me the truth, before I spend another second in your company.”

  “I am the same man you loved to hate.” He stood still, like the demon he was. “That is what you were about to ask?”

  Close enough. “Yes.” But his answer hadn’t allayed my fears. Maybe I just needed time. Or the whole truth. Before I went after Dawn, I needed to know exactly who had my back. “You knew my mother.”

  He blinked back at me, unruffled. “I wouldn’t say I knew her. In fact, I made a point of not knowing her.”

  “Why?”

  He swallowed, and the stoic mask he’d worn since his return fractured a little. “Because of what had to be done.”

  “I asked you about her, and you lied.”

  “I didn’t lie—”

  “Fine. You manipulated the truth, whatever you call it.”

  “What do you want me to say? That I’m sorry? That would be a lie. I am not sorry for the impossible choice I had to make. I will not apologize for my actions, not even to ease your fears. I am demon, Muse. When will you stop trying to see me as anything else? I did what I did because Asmodeus had a hold over me—” A twitch ticked in his jaw. That had been the truth.

  “You sacrificed a human woman so you could live happily ever after here in Boston. Yes, I know why. Asmodeus was going to rat you out, spoil your little moonlighting gig as a human. So you found him some women to rape until they produced the one-winged half blood.”

  His expression hardened. I knew that look. He knew how to wield expressions the same way humans wielded words, and right now, he was expressionless. Guarded. “Who told you these things?”

  “The Prince of Pride.”

  His lip peeled back in a cutting sneer. “Pride? And I suppose you trust the word of a salacious prince you’ve just met over mine?”

  “No. Had I, you wouldn’t be standing here now.” I’d trusted my gut. Now I was wondering if my gut lied too. “While you were gone, I found out a lot about you.”

  “You know who Li’el is?” Akil snarled again, this time with a demon undertone.

  “Yes.” I pushed away from the door and slowly stalked toward Akil. “And no, I don’t believe a word he says. He’s gunning for you. They all are. I’m fairly certain he wants revenge for you bitch slapping him down a million years ago, or whenever you gave him that scar. He tried damn hard to drag your name through the mud. That’s not the point. The point is, I learned you watched over the half-blood infants, looking for the half blood with one wing among those my brother discarded.”

  Akil’s flame-touched eyes tracked me as I strode closer. His gaze was the only part of him to move. “Yes. Should I be sorry for that as well? You would have me grovel at your feet when you know perfectly well I will do no such thing.” Either he wasn’t trying, or he couldn’t mask the anger clipping the end of each word. Good. I wanted him angry. I wanted him honest.

  “Are there more?” My own voice feathered with frustration. “Do I have siblings somewhere? A family?” He hesitated. His lashes fluttered, but he didn’t look away. Goddamn him. “I do, don’t I? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Akil took a breath to speak and hesitated. Whatever he meant to say—probably a lie—he stopped himself. “They would not be the family you’re looking for.”

  Tears pricked my eyes. I blinked the useless things back and stopped in front of him. “Why must you lie? Why do you have to be like this? Why can’t you stop manipulating everyone and everything for five minutes of your long life.”

  Tiny micro expressions slipped through his mask. There was a time I’d have missed them, but not any more. His eyes narrowed. He’d challenge me before looking away. Amber traced the edges of his dark pupils. “What do you want from me, Muse?”

  I lifted my chin and stared right back. “How about the truth?”

  “The truth.” His brow pinched, and he pressed his lips together. “The truth is, I am Greed. And Greed is all I will ever be.”

  I alm
ost exploded. After all this time, after everything we’d been through, he came back to me with that vague, demon BS. “What kind of stupid demon answer is that?” Anger stripped my voice raw. I let it. And still I held his gaze. He could look away first because I damn well wasn’t going to. “The second I went back to the netherworld, I had demons falling over themselves to tell me how terrible you are, how you’re a liar, how you orchestrated the death of the original queen, asking if I was certain I should bring you back. Even the King of Hell said you’re a bastard.”

  He smiled a tightlipped, flat, joyless smile. “What did you expect? They’re demons. Of course they’d seek to manipulate you.”

  My hand itched to slap him. I wanted to grab his suit jacket in my fists and shake him until the truth fell out. I breathed in through my nose, subdued the rage, and asked, “Did you know you would die on that battlefield? Did you deliberately infuse your soul with mine so you’d survive?”

  His gaze skittered away, and I knew the answer before he’d spoken a word. It didn’t matter what he said. Icy numbness came over me, spread from my chest, and seeped through the rage, until I felt…nothing.

  “If I remember correctly, I died on that battlefield to save you. Be careful where you place the blame, Muse.”

  “Answer the goddamn question, Ahkeel.”

  “Yes.”

  That single admission punched deep and precise, like a nail in a coffin. His admission buried everything I thought we’d gained. He’d used me. I gritted my teeth. “Did you lock my soul with yours so you’d survive?”

  He looked into my eyes, deep into the soul he’d shared. “What difference does the motive make? You needed control. I gave it to you. The fact I happened to benefit from the union—”

  My hand curled into a fist. “Answer the question.”

  “Yes.” Another nail. “But—”