Darkest Before Dawn: A Muse Urban Fantasy (The Veil Series Book 3)

by DaCosta, Pippa

  Note: David Ryder is aware Epsilon lives. This was an unfortunate necessity as Enforcer Ryder played a large part in her capture. While his devotion and commitment to our cause continues to be exemplary, it may be necessary to apply emotional pressure. I advise a trace be planted among his estranged family should his devotion lapse.

  SUBJECT GAMMA

  STATUS: Contained & holding. No change.

  SUBJECT DELTA

  STATUS: Contained & holding. No change.

  SUBJECT BETA – Muse, Charlie Henderson.

  STATUS: Consistently volatile and unpredictable. Borderline demon. Beta’s allegiances have yet to be proven. She has the potential to be a valuable ally, but her relationship with the Prince of Greed is undesirable. She will cooperate while she believes she is in control, but her actions of late border on needing a termination order. If it were not for her connections in the netherworld, we would have allowed her to perish at Subject Alpha’s (Stefan Harper’s) hand. Demon chatter indicates her father, Asmodeus, has shown an interest in acquiring her. She is currently under his ‘protection.’ This makes her useful, and invulnerable to all but her father. We will continue to rally Beta to our cause and utilize her connections among the demon hierarchy. However, should she lose control of her demon—which I believe to be an imminent threat—a termination order will be issued.

  Note: Demon chatter refers to Beta as the Mother of Destruction. This title is not to be dismissed as idle gossip. I suspect there are events in her recent past of which we are unaware. These events have increased her standing among demons. I strongly advise Enforcers focus on extracting the meaning behind this recent shift in Beta’s status.

  SUBJECT ALPHA – Stefan Harper.

  STATUS: Failed. Termination order in effect.

  Note: Sabine, I am perfectly capable of neutralizing the threat Subject Alpha poses. I have no emotional connection to my son. Thank you for your offer, but your assistance, while of course appreciated, is not necessary. Subject Alpha will be terminated.

  SIGNED: Adam Harper.

  END REPORT

  * * *

  The Veil Series continues in Book #4 Drowning In The Dark, coming early 2015.

  If you enjoyed Darkest Before Dawn please take a few moments to leave a review on Amazon by clicking here and/or Goodreads here. Every review matters, even just a few words will do.

  Read on for an exclusive scene from Stefan’s point of view, and for an excerpt from Drowning In The Dark #4 The Veil series.

  Darkest Before Dawn Stefan Bonus Scene

  Darkest Before Dawn Bonus Scene – A snippet from the ‘lakehouse kitchen scene’ as told from Stefan’s point of view. Also available on The Veil Series website here.

  * * *

  She burns. Every part of me, each infinitesimal molecule which binds demon to human, recoils, and yet I want… more. I watch. Time is a brittle frozen thing, captured and halted in my hands. I see through a gauze of ice and witness all that she is, all she will be. A halfling. As am I. Yet even half-a-thing holds power, moreso, for the passion with which it seeks its missing piece, its opposite. I reach out a hand, pushing against the blanket of heat, denying pain its purchase. Fear burns bright in her wide eyes. She sees demon, hardened by ice. I see her. Muse. My contradiction, my opposite. Even as the proximity of her repels, I seek her embrace. I touch her face, skip my fingers down her cheek. She hisses; turns away, but does not run. Her demon wants. So does she. These thoughts, they are wrong. These desires, they will distract. She will devastate. I know all of this, I see it all in her eyes, but still I cannot pull away. Ice seeks to smother her fire. My element surges, hungry and eager to quash her threat. Power feeds through me, combusting inside and rising, threatening to drown us both; to smother, to kill. I know its wants; I want the same. Demon. Human. Lost somewhere between. Pulled apart, stretched thin. I can devastate her. I see enemy. Fire to my ice. She is predator. So am I.

  Motives sundered, I am motionless, captured as surely in indecision as I am in ice. I could–should kill her. Here, now, she is weakened, restrained. She thinks me incapable. In that, she is wrong. I am glacial. And yet, despite it all… her death would shatter me. Demon. Human. I am captured between, crushed, amalgamated. I could not hurt her. Would not. Despite everything, she warms the cold in me. Her fire melts my resolve and my ice quells her fear. Webs of ice lace from my touch and skitter across her cheek. She looks into me, sees me, all of me. Muse has always witnessed the truth of me. The warmth of her skin, the rapid beat of her heart; she grounds me, offers a clear path through the squall blanketing my thoughts. I realize, with conviction, I will protect her from all who seek to harm her, from the Prince of Greed, from the netherworld, from the Institute, from my father, from herself. I can protect her from everything… but me.

  We are enemies. Opposites. An immovable object and an unstoppable force. I am afraid of my own desires. She sees the stark truth of me, looks into the eyes of winter, and braves the storm. She is more than I can possibly know, more than I can hope to avoid. This moment, the past, the future, all funnel to the now, and I see a glimpse of what is to come. I see blood on a blade of ice. I know how this ends. And she sees–with her dark fire-touched eyes–she sees it too.

  * * *

  Excerpt Chapter One

  An exclusive look at the first two chapters of ‘Drowning In The Dark’ Book 4 in The Veil Series, due early 2015.

  * * *

  Demon claws sliced into my waist, sending sparks of pain dancing up my right side and stealing a ragged cry from my lips. I twisted away, more instinct than thought, and cracked my fist across the demon’s brittle jaw. His face fractured like glass, which would have been a victory, had the shards of bone not pierced my knuckles. Jesus, it was like fighting barbed wire. I saw the right hook coming, his claws spread wide, and realized I may have underestimated my quarry and overestimated my current abilities. I ducked, snatched my dagger from its sheath at my ankle, and lunged upward, driving the blade deep into his gut. He grunted. My gaze met his opaque eyes. He grinned, slippery blue lips drawn back over jagged teeth. Hot blood spilled over my hand, but from the look of glee on his crumpled face, you’d think he’d won. I was missing something. His brittle laughter confirmed it.

  “They’re coming, half blood,” he growled around his fangs.

  “Yeah, I got the memo. The princes are coming, blah blah. Tell me something I don’t know.”

  His hand shot out like a viper strike. I yanked the blade from his gut, recoiled from his scalpel-like claws, and arched away, but my balance wobbled. Overreaching, I staggered. My stomach flip-flopped. Fear churned my gut. The big grin on his bony face morphed into a hideous, toothy snarl. He lunged and slammed his not-so-lightweight body into me. My back hit the alley dirt, knocking the breath out of my lungs. This would be one of those times when calling the fire would solve my misbehaving demon problem. I could kill him in an instant. A flicker of a thought was all it would take. But I wouldn’t stop there. The alley would look nice draped in fire. That overflowing dumpster back there would go up like the 4th of July. The buildings would catch next. My fire would lick the sky, devour the neighborhood, and gobble up every living thing in the immediate vicinity. Insane laughter bubbled through my thoughts.

  The demon coiled his hands around my throat. His legs straddled me. I took a swipe at his arm with my blade. His skin peeled apart, blood dribbled, but he didn’t loosen his grip. I sliced again, while my lungs burned. His grip on my throat tightened. My vision clouded. The edges of his half-broken face blurred. My demon snarled inside my mind and rattled her mental bars. Let me out… she urged. Let me play. We will make short work of this beast. We are destruction. We taste his death. Ashes in the air. Let us devour. It was pretty crowded in my head. Next, my personal parasite spilled his poison into my veins. His darkness polluted my limbs, stoking my thirst for fire. I couldn’t hold out much longer. The fire would come. My demon would break the reins of my control, and this time, I might not com
e back. This could be it: the very last time I held the reins of my control. Was it over so soon? Would I lose my battle in this alley?

  Demon spittle dribbled onto my face. My head lolled to one side. Among the fog of impending unconsciousness, a dark figure walked toward me. I didn’t need to see clearly to know him. His element flooded ahead of him. Heat. A terrible, breath-stealing, skin-crawling heat. Fire without the flames. The demon with his hands around my throat jerked his head up. His chokehold vanished as foreign words spilled from his lips. He scrambled off me, but stayed kneeling, skinny shoulders hunched.

  Akil’s image shimmered behind a veil of heat-haze. The air around his body rippled and strummed. He wore a double-breasted overcoat over his trademark suit, as though he might actually suffer from the cold on this chilly Boston evening. Only Akil could stalk back-alleys and still look like he’d stepped off the pages of GQ magazine.

  As my demon attacker mumbled and growled in an ancient and exotic language, I concentrated on filling my lungs with air, ignoring the odors of mildew, fish, and urine. The air tasted pretty sweet to my oxygen-starved lungs.

  “Return to the netherworld,” Akil ordered, his tone level and direct. He didn’t expect to be disobeyed. He stopped in front of the prostrate demon, handsome face perfectly neutral.

  “It won’t do any good, sire. They come. There is nothing there but death.”

  Akil’s dark eyes flicked to me. I wiggled my fingers at him. It was all I could muster.

  “Perhaps you misheard because I’m certain you didn’t just deny a direct order from your prince.” A smile flirted across Akil’s lips, and fire brimmed the irises in his otherwise hazel eyes.

  “No, sire.” The demon ducked his head.

  “Good.” Akil flicked his fingers, and a ribbon of light rippled open beside him. The veil. “Be on your way.”

  “Now? B-But…”

  Akil plucked the demon off his knees and shoved him through the twitching slither of light. The veil stitched itself closed moments later, and Akil turned to me. “Before you say a word about not needing my help, I observed your altercation for several minutes before intervening. Had it gone on any longer, I’m quite certain you would be dead.”

  “Dead is such a strong word.” My voice came out littered with scratches and hitches, dashing my attempt at bravado. I rolled onto my side, wincing as the wound in my side flared, and climbed to my feet. Akil watched me stagger and right myself. He knew better than to help me.

  “Nice coat. Do you always kick demon ass dressed like an Italian supermodel?” I brushed loose dirt from my jeans and tee. When I caught sight of the bloom of blood and the warm metallic scent of it hit me, I gulped back a knot of fear. It had been too close.

  Akil blinked into existence right in front of me. His heat wrapped me in a quilt-like embrace. I attempted to deny how his warmth soothed my rattled body and mind, but it was a losing battle. Exhausted, battered, bruised, and bleeding, I was in no condition to argue with him. I’d not seen him in weeks—not officially—but I knew he’d been on the streets, eager to kick any wayward demons back to the netherworld, or hell as it was fondly referred to. According to Akil, Boston was his city, and nobody would take it from him, not an influx of demons, and certainly not the other princes. I wasn’t entirely surprised to see him. I’d had my suspicions he’d been watching me from afar.

  He hooked a finger under my chin and tilted my head up. “Why did you allow that demon to best you?”

  I fluttered my eyes closed, the disappointment on his face too much. “I’m afraid.”

  “Of what? Not him.”

  “Damien.” My parasite. I opened my eyes in time to catch Akil’s glare narrowing. “He constantly pulls on my control. And my demon… She’s impatient. She whispers to me the whole time. If I let her go, Akil, I’m afraid I might not come back.” I’d lost control a few weeks ago, almost killing an angry mob and nearly tearing Akil’s arm off in the process. He’d stopped me from doing both, but it had been too close for comfort.

  He drew his hand back. Our gazes locked for a few seconds before he dipped his lower, over my lips, my chest, to where his fingers peeled the sticky hem of my top away from my waist. “You know how to remove the soul-lock. I’m sure you don’t need me to say it again.”

  Right, by letting Akil dig him out. I’d been thinking about it every night when I woke screaming, drenched in cold sweat, body aching and mind shattered beneath a flood of revolting images—Damien’s memories. Yeah, I’d thought about it a lot while drowning myself in whiskey. Damien was killing me as sure as if he was standing over my shoulder, driving a dagger into my back. I needed Akil’s help. I was losing this battle. I’d been losing it since the beginning. And I didn’t have much time left.

  “Could he ever come back?” I asked quietly. “The part of him that’s in me, could it ever become solid again, flesh and blood real?”

  Akil searched my face, delaying, until he finally gave me the truth. “Yes. There is a way. But you need not concern yourself with it. Without your consent, it could never happen.” I gulped back the burn of disgust. I wanted my owner out, gone for good. I’d have gladly cut him out with a rusted razor blade if I could. “You cannot continue like this, Muse.” Akil’s deft fingers probed my side, drawing a hiss from my lips. “If you refuse to summon your demon, you will likely die the next time you find yourself in harm’s way. I may not always be here to save you.”

  I bowed my head, simultaneously resting my forehead against his chest while he pressed his hand over the wounds and fizzled heat through my flesh. “I think… maybe… I guess...” I sighed. “You’re right. I have to do something. I’m ready.” His body tensed, and his hand over the wound stilled. “You need to take him out of me, Akil. Please. I can’t live like this anymore.”

  He laced his fingers into my hair and tipped my head back. I could have fought him, but what was the point? We both knew this had to happen eventually. He didn’t look as happy as I thought he would. He studied me, his sculpted face marred by suspicion.

  “I expected you to, y’know, gloat or something. You’ve wanted this since he soul-locked me.”

  “Much longer, actually. But I–”

  His teeth snapped together, and he jerked, as though struck, then shoved me away from him. I almost fell over my own feet trying to stay upright. Stumbling against the wall, I spluttered a curse. “What the hell?”

  He’d spun around and faced the mouth of the alley, his back to me. I saw them then, six black-clad men and women, assault rifles raised and trained on Akil as they closed in. Laser dots bounced around on his back. I searched the roofline and spotted the snipers above us. Worse, more special-ops jogged in from my left behind Akil. And I recognized one instantly. Ryder led the smaller team, rifle shouldered and aimed at Akil’s back.

  “Shit, Akil, get out of here.” I shoved off the wall and strode into the line of fire, exuding a confidence I didn’t have. “Don’t do this, Ryder.” I called over the sound of hammering boots on asphalt. Akil would kill them all.

  “Get outtah the way, Muse,” Ryder barked. “We will shoot through you.”

  Akil’s element lashed outward, surging past me and rushing toward Ryder’s group. “Dammit, Ryder, you wanna be responsible for more deaths?”

  “Ain’t gonna happen.” His men were closing fast. It would be a bloodbath. Five in his group, a couple on the roof, six approaching Akil from the front. It wouldn’t be enough. A hundred wouldn’t be enough. What the hell was Ryder thinking?

  Akil’s element spluttered beneath my feet. I felt it choke and gasped, spinning around to see Akil drop to one knee and brace himself against the ground, head bowed. Heat throbbed around him, beating the air in relentless waves. He should have been upright, smug and confident – at the worst, he could have called his true form Mammon – but something was very wrong. “Akil?”

  The Enforcers gathered around him. His shoulders rose and fell as he breathed hard, but he made no move to attack
them or protect himself. A deep inhuman-growl rumbled through him. He snapped his head up and scored a few Enforcers with his powerful glare, but it only seemed to make them more determined. They closed ranks, moving tighter.

  I stole a few steps closer when Ryder grabbed my arm and pulled me to him. “Stay away if you know what’s good for you.” He shoved me back, fierce determination making his glare hard and cold.

  “Ryder, he’ll kill all of you. Are you insane?” Akil might be down now, but it was likely a trap. He was probably hoping to lure them in so he could catch them together. I strode forward. “Let him go before it’s too late.” I didn’t want to see anyone hurt, especially Ryder. We’d had our differences, but he didn’t deserve to screw it up like this. “You can’t capture a Prince of Hell. Ryder, please, c’mon… before he brings Mammon…” My words trailed off as Akil’s gaze found me. Lips pulled back in a snarl, eyes bright with amber, he glared at me, accusations burning in his gaze. What? Did he think I had something to do with this? “Akil… Don’t hurt them. Let them go.” Another growl rumbled through him.

  “He’s not going anywhere, Muse.” Ryder raised his rifle, aimed, and pulled the trigger. The sharp crack bounced around the alley. Akil took the hit in the shoulder. He spun around, his body moving liquid fast, but it wasn’t enough. They opened fire. The deafening noise of gunfire drowned out my shriek of alarm. I sprang forward, only for Ryder to grab me and shove me into the arms of three of his crew. I kicked, yanked, writhed, and bucked, but the goons held fast.

  When the gunfire ceased – a horrible unearthly quiet settled over the alley. The smell of hot metal, and acrid gun smoke burned my nostrils and laced my throat. Ragged breaths sawed out of me. I couldn’t tear my gaze from the group huddled around a pool of blood. He couldn’t be dead. Could he? Why hadn’t he fought? Why didn’t he summon Mammon? He’d once told me seven hundred Enforcers wouldn’t be enough to take him down.