I met Akil through Damien. So proud of how he’d beaten his pitiful half-blood into submission and kept her like a pet, Damien presented me to Akil one night, showing off his accomplishments to one of the Seven Princes of Hell. I looked at Akil, at the smartly dressed businessman, and saw only another anonymous face leering at my disgusting existence. But he didn’t leer. He didn’t do anything at first. Then he asked Damien to “lend me” to him. Damien couldn’t refuse one of the Seven Princes, so he handed me over to Akil.
I expected a whole new world of pain to begin, but Akil didn’t touch me. All he did was look at me cowering on the floor. He didn’t speak, didn’t do anything, but he watched. In some ways, that was more terrifying. I didn’t know his name, didn’t know who he was or what he was capable of, but I felt the elemental power radiating from him. I expected him to kill me with one swift, decisive movement, but he didn’t move a muscle.
I began to look forward to my time with Akil. I was terrified of him, of the power coursing through him, but he didn’t hurt me, and my time with him separated me from Damien. Eventually, Akil coaxed me into speaking. Damien didn’t like to hear me talk, but Akil did. He wanted to know my name.
He calls me Muse. I was Damien’s muse, as though I inspired hatred and disgust in him. My existence gave him leave to hurt me in ways I didn’t even know he could. I was art to him, a bloody, damaged, and violated piece of fragile art. In some sick and twisted way, he thought he was liberating me, that I should be grateful for the lashings that split my flesh.
The memories turned my stomach. My reflection in the mirror above the sink paled. I clasped my hands on either side of the washbasin and peered at the woman looking back. The gash across my right eye had scabbed over, but the bloody mess down the side of my face was worse than I’d expected. I had glass in my hair and dozens of grazes across my arms. My dress was torn and bloody. Patches of oil or gasoline splattered across the once vibrant red fabric. No wonder Stefan had wanted to clean me up.
I scrubbed my hands with soap and tried to wash the blood off my face. I’d spent a great deal of time washing the filth from my own skin, imagined and real. My hands shook, perhaps from the late onset of shock or from the assault of memories. Either way, I needed to get a grip on myself. This wasn’t over. I was safe for now, hidden behind Stefan’s clever graffiti, but as soon as I stepped outside that door, I was a target, and it was open season on me. By now, word would have reached the demons. Not only was I still alive, but I wasn’t with Akil. They wouldn’t care that he’d forbidden them to kill me. Look at the detective at the police department. He hadn’t cared. He’d just wanted me dead. They were all the same.
At least Stefan was different. He’d survived. He may or may not have been protected, but he could clearly look after himself. Nobody had bothered teaching me a damn thing. I only had a name because my owner had found it amusing.
“Dammit!” The blood wasn’t coming off. I fell against the sink, gripping the white porcelain so hard that my fingers blanched. My stomach churned as my body rebelled against my attempts to remain calm. What Stefan didn’t seem to realize was that without Akil, I was dead anyway, so what did it matter? What did any of this matter?
I stumbled from the bathroom and dropped my weary body on the edge of the bed. The apartment was alien, the man who’d brought me here had his own dubious motives, and I had nothing.
“You okay?” Stefan’s voice held a softer tone than I’d heard from him.
I didn’t turn, couldn’t find it in me to look at him. He probably stood in the bedroom doorway and could stay there for all I cared. Head bowed, body trembling, I knew how I looked. He’d think me weak, just as he had earlier. Maybe he was right.
“You’re not like me.” I flicked my head around to glare at him. “You don’t know me. You don’t know anything. I’m not helping you kill my brother, an impossible task, by the way, as he’s immortal. I don’t care what your issue is with him. I don’t even care that you think you have proof Val isn’t behind this. I don’t want to know.”
He looked as though he might say something; clearly, he had some sort of witty retort on the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed it back. Without another word, he left the bedroom. I was glad he’d gone. His presence only served to remind me how pathetic I was in comparison.
I growled and flung myself back on the bed, falling into a fitful sleep within minutes.
The quiet was complete beyond the veil, the netherworld air thick, like soup. I had to drag it through clenched teeth to breathe. Ripples of pain rode through my body. My fragile human skin glistened with perspiration beneath the touch of moonlight, but I had come to embrace the agony. It meant I was alive. I could see my owner’s silhouette only when I lifted my gaze through my matted hair. He might have appeared human but for the huge bat-like wings that relaxed behind him.
A flash of pain darted down my back. The wounds he’d inflicted gaped like hungry mouths. The chain coiled around my owner’s right hand dripped with my blood. I couldn’t see his smile. His face was lost in shadow, but I knew it was there. Clouds broiled in the dark sky, briefly smothering the blue moon, snuffing out its waning light. My mortal eyes failed to pierce the complete darkness, but it didn’t matter. I knew what was coming.
When the washed-out light from the moon flowed once more into the clearing, he towered over me. I reared up, baring blunt teeth in a snarl. He could beat me all he wanted. I was not giving up without a fight. He pulled the chain tight in front of him, links rattling. I had enough time to fill my lungs with the cloying air before he wrapped the chain around my neck and pulled it tight. My demon clawed within me, thrashing against my restraint in a bid to be free, but I held her back. I would not let him win. Her talons sunk into my resolve even as my chest burned for air. My head throbbed.
He leaned in, tugging me off my knees, clutching me close to his leering face. When he laughed, the sound boomed about the clearing. Nobody—nothing would hear us. Even if something did, it wouldn’t care.
“The Prince believes he can claim you.” The snarling voice drilled into my skull. “You are mine.”
I woke with the memories still bubbling in my head, threatening to spill over into reality as they had at Akil’s hotel. Sitting bolt upright, I reined in my fears and swept them back into their mental box where they belonged. I swept my hands down my face to chase the remaining fragments of the nightmare away.
Thoughts grounded in the now, I realized I was alone. Nothing unusual there, but I knew Stefan had left the apartment. The room was warmer, for a start. Sunlight streamed in through the high basement window, instantly brightening my mood. I had no idea what day it was, or where I was, or what I was going to do, but it was okay because I was alive.
The lounge looked the way I remembered it: trashed. Perhaps I could mail the apartment owner some cash. He was going to need it.
On the countertop, Stefan had left a note scrawled on an unopened letter.
Gone for the evidence. Stay here. Do NOT go back to Akil.
No, Love from Stefan. Ha. If he was gone, that meant the hounds had gone too. I tossed the note aside and strode out into the daylight. No money. No phone. My only choice was a long walk. Dressed as I was, blood splattered and disheveled, I soon caught a few wayward glances. Some people even crossed the street to avoid me.
Retracing my steps from the previous evening, I came across Stefan’s wrecked car. Crime scene tape flapped in the breeze, cordoning off the crumpled barrier and dented lamppost. Gouges in the pavement farther up the street and a trail of shattered glass made it clear where the car had rolled. The truck remained, front end caved in, awaiting recovery. I ducked on by with guilt sitting heavily on my shoulders. At least it didn’t look as though anyone had been seriously hurt.
After I’d walked for twenty minutes, a black limo pulled up beside me. I stopped, planted a hand on my hip, and admired my bedraggled and distorted reflection in the privacy glass. The door opened, and Nica smiled up at me
. “Wow, rough night?”
“I’ve had worse.”
“Get in.”
It became clear she had no idea what had happened to me. Akil had asked her to take a car and driver to the street she’d picked me up on. Apparently, he was working. My invite would have given him knowledge of my whereabouts. She fished for answers, but I was in no mood to talk. I feigned tiredness and pretended to sleep the rest of the way.
Chapter 10
Left alone until that evening, I was grateful for the time to clean myself up and think. Nica had left some clothes for me, asking if I wanted to have my things brought over from my old apartment. I smiled and didn’t answer. “Some clothes” turned out to be a black lace dress. I groaned and rolled my eyes at Akil’s choice of clothing. Give me jeans, and I’m happy. Dresses just felt plain wrong, but tonight I had a plan.
I held the dress up against me in front of a full-length mirror. Considering what I had in mind for the evening ahead, it was the perfect combination of intricate lace with conservative coverage. I dressed and left the bedroom, scrunching my damp hair in my hands as the tinkling of piano keys drifted down the hall. Fantasia in D-Minor, Mozart. A peculiar mix of a haunting melody and light upbeats. One of Akil’s favorites.
I followed the sound of the music, padding barefoot down the hall, passing the lounge until I reached what appeared to be a study. A speaker dock on a shelf played the music. Equalizer bars jumped on the docked phone. A fire flickered in a modern alcove fireplace, and glass across the front sealed in the dancing flames. Books sat neat and orderly on their shelves, some very old with weathered spines and tanned leather covers.
Then I saw him, suited up and seated leisurely in a high-backed chair, glass of red in one hand, open book in the other. His laden gaze rested firmly on me. I swallowed, vision briefly blurring. The weight of his stare quickened my pulse, stealing away the confidence I’d embraced all day. I bit into my lip, feeling as though I were shrinking in size with every second that ticked by.
The music stopped. The fire crackled behind its glass cage.
Only when he looked away did I breathe again. He closed the book, stood, and placed it neatly on a desk. An eclectic collection of swords displayed on the wall behind the desk drew my attention: six stunning swords from various locations around the world, although one appeared to be missing. Its brackets were bare.
Akil set down his glass of wine, fingertips teasing across the rim, making the crystal sing. He came toward me with clear intent in those dark eyes. Fear threaded through my limbs so that I stumbled back. I may even have yelped a little right before he clasped my face in both hands and kissed me. The urgency of that kiss surprised and excited me. I responded in kind, devouring him as the fear quickly turned to fire in my veins. His element called to mine, sinking heated tendrils through my flesh and drawing the slumbering power out of me. I pulled him tight, needing him close, grinding my hips against him while his hands slid down my back, cupping my behind. He lifted me, and I instantly hooked my legs around him, throwing my head back as his mouth teased kisses down my neck.
He carried me to the desk, sweeping its contents aside before planting me on the edge. His sultry touch rode up my thighs, hitching back my dress. The demon in me purred her glee, curling power around my flesh and reaching out to him. As I let down my guard, my element flared within me, spilling over my human body, revealing the truth about me: a human-demon hybrid. The unfurling of my one insubstantial wing completed the transformation. I flexed my power outward, stretching my ethereal wing higher. It felt like stepping out into a glorious summer day. The weight of control lifted from my shoulders. With Akil, I could be me—all of me. I didn’t need to pretend.
Akil growled low in his throat, fingers teasing out the ribbon of my dress. He sunk his other hand in my hair, holding it there as his mouth found mine once more.
“I thought I’d lost you,” he breathed. “I searched...” He pulled back enough to peer into my eyes. “Don’t ever do that again.” His growl teased my desire even higher.
I grinned and nipped at his lip, fingers fumbling with his shirt buttons. I gave up and tore it open, pressing my warm hands against the sculpted contours of his chest. I felt my own magic flexing around me, my one deformed wing trembling as he slipped my dress from my shoulders. Arching back, I let his mouth roam, his occasional nip sending ripples of pleasure through me.
His hand on my leg pressed higher, easing my thighs apart. I wanted him, but it was more than desire. I ached for him. Human and demon, all of me. I was his. His touch smoldered against my skin. His hands awakened wave after wave of power, calling it from every cell in my body. I blazed with energy, and he wanted it. I could see the hunger in his eyes. His power raged an inferno inside him. Blinded by the all-encompassing heat of desire, I couldn’t have resisted him if I’d wanted to.
He tore my underwear free, jerking me off the desk against him. The short-lived dress slipped down over my hips and pooled at my feet. He backed up a few steps. His heated gaze devoured me, drinking in my hybrid appearance. Where others had considered me grotesque, he had always enjoyed the intimacy every time I’d laid all of me bare.
I stepped up to him, clutched his torn shirt in both hands, and pulled him into a fevered kiss. His hands found my hips, but I knocked them away. He growled a warning just as I turned him and shoved him back against the desk. He panted through clenched teeth, lips pulled back in a wolfish grin. I stepped up to him, sliding my hand down his chest and dipping it below his waistband. It was his turn to arch back. A humble groan escaped him.
I had power over him. Nica had been right, but it wasn’t something I could use lightly.
Withdrawing my hand, I held his stare as he lifted his head, then shoved him down onto the desk. He didn’t resist and opened his arms, completely giving in to me. I tugged his trousers lower before climbing over him, trailing moist kisses up his navel, tongue teasing across his rippled chest before swirling around a nipple.
“Muse…” he growled my name, bucking a little.
I reared up, stretching my wing high behind me, and straddled him. He groaned something, the words lost as his original accent slurred them, before locking his molten gaze on me. I began to rock my hips. I had him. All of him. Utterly and completely at my mercy and I liked it. My element spilled from me, rolling in and out like waves on a beach as his reservoir of power flooded over me, into me. I lost myself in it. My memories, my fears, my suspicions—they were all chased away by the insatiable need to have him inside me. The rush of delight rode higher. The lights above flickered. The fire in the hearth roared. I summoned the residual energy into me, calling to the latent element found everywhere and letting it bloom inside me until I couldn’t take anymore. The pressure released, snatching a cry from deep within. Akil bucked, fingers digging into my thighs as he threw his head back.
He didn’t see me falter, but he heard me whisper, “Would you ever hurt me?”
He cried out, the human part of him spilling his seed into me. But I saw what I needed, the glimmer of uncertainty in his eyes, the briefest flicker of doubt. He’d answered my question before he could stop himself, too lost in desire to lie.
I fell forward and kissed him hard, deliberately nipping at his lip and drawing blood. He pulled me down and turned me onto my back so he had the advantage. As his kisses burned down my breast and his fingers kneaded, I blinked back tears, quickly sweeping them aside before he could see. I feared the truth and what it meant, feared that Stefan had been right.
Akil was lying to me.
I had to find Stefan, but first, there was one last thing I needed to do: talk to my brother.
Moonlight spilled through the drapes, its milky caress draining all color from the room. The quiet seemed complete, as though the world outside had been smothered while I dosed. Carefully easing the sheet off me, I sat up in bed, slowly turning my head to look down at Akil. Moonlight lay across his face and chest. The sheet bunched around his middle, one ar
m cast behind his head. He was like temptation personified, which of course was deliberate on his part. Nothing about his male physique was an accident. His vessel hadn’t been born in the natural way of things. It had been constructed in the image of this era’s notion of perfection. It was an act—a mask—deliberately designed to seduce, and it worked on me. Sure, I knew what he really was, but I certainly wouldn’t have jumped his demon-bones if he had revealed his true self. My head was too full of human desires for that.
I ached in all the right places, my lips flirting with a smile. I could so easily have lain back down, eased my arm across that delicious body, and stayed that way until the demands of the real world pulled us apart, but that was the coward’s way out, and a coward was one thing I had never been. I gently rose from the bed and tiptoed out of his room before jogging quietly back to the guest room where I quickly dressed in jeans and a sleeveless top. I had a jacket somewhere and would need it. It was approaching 3:00 a.m. and would be near-freezing temperatures outside. I found my suede jacket and tugged it on, peeling my hair from inside the collar. A figure in the doorway blocked my exit.
“It’s late,” Akil said. “Or early, depending on your perspective.” He paused, giving me a moment to fill the silence with an explanation.
In the low light, it was difficult to see his expression, not least because I couldn’t ignore the fact he was naked. My wide-eyed gaze roamed all over him. “I er… I was…” My voice quivered, a croak fracturing my attempt at confidence. “My cat.” Yes, blame the cat. “I need to feed Jonesy. I haven’t been home and he’s—”
“Resourceful, I’m sure.”
I definitely detected irony dripping from those three words, or was it barely concealed anger? He sauntered toward me, the light from the window silhouetting his body. I didn’t move, didn’t dare to. That stare of his crawled over me while his expression remained impassive. He moved around me, circling me, easing closer with every step until he stood before me and tilted my chin up.
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