I couldn’t help feeling a little responsible for that, seeing as the hounds had been after me. “Akil sent those hounds,” I blurted.
Stefan scratched at the smudge of grease on his forehead and nodded, for once avoiding the smug-son-of-a-bitch expression in favor of a sympathetic frown. “Follow me.”
He squeezed by me. The car’s bulk left little room to maneuver. A peculiar flutter of excitement flipped in my chest as he brushed against me. The fleeting reaction distracted me completely, briefly emptying my mind of rational thoughts while I watched him walk toward the back of his workshop.
“You coming?” he called, disappearing through a narrow doorway.
“Huh? Yeah.”
Nica and Ryder were deep in conversation. Ryder tossed me a wave, apparently enjoying his babysitting task. Who’d have thought Nica would be so easily led astray? Maybe she had a hidden desire for bad boys. She was distracted, and that was all that mattered. I’d worry later how I was going to prevent her talking to Akil.
Following Stefan’s path through the doorway, I found myself in a narrow hall. Bare bulbs flickered above, poorly illuminating unfinished, plywood walls and a bare concrete floor. A chill swept over me, snagging my thoughts. I glanced back, expecting to find someone watching me, but the doorway stood empty. I could still hear Nica’s voice, but it felt oddly distant. A little hesitantly, I emerged through a second doorway into what could only be described as an armory.
Symbols covered every inch of the walls, similar but not identical to those Stefan had used to ward off elemental magic. They were likely the reason for the chills I’d just experienced. My human senses never failed to detect forces that didn’t belong on this side of the veil.
Workbenches butted against the walls, stretching from one end of the room to the other, on them the array of weapons boggled the mind. Knives, daggers, swords, axes, guns. A deadly weapon for every occasion. Need a two-handed axe? A broadsword? A rifle? The room bristled with sharp edges like an underwater cave brimming with spiny urchins.
“That’s quite a collection.” I absently reached out to touch one sword in particular, a broadsword with substantial pitting on the blade. Before I realized I’d even touched the metal, a flood of images burst through my mind in such a flurry that the onslaught nearly floored me. It was only Stefan’s sudden grip clamped around my arm that brought me back. Stumbling against the workbench, I sucked in a few deep breaths. Usually, it requires blood to secure a link between my mind and the metal, but not this time. That sword wanted its history told.
“Don’t touch anything,” he warned, his azure eyes brilliant in the subdued lighting.
The sword beckoned, even now, its secrets demanding to be told. “I saw…” I couldn’t be sure what I’d seen. Blood, but that’s normal. You don’t read the history of a sword and see happy endings. It was almost always horrific and one of the reasons I didn’t like to do it. I tried to isolate the images in my mind—horses foaming at the mouth—a woman cowering over her motionless child —but Stefan’s voice pulled me back.
“You don’t want to know. There’s enough history in that sword to knock you out for a week.” He touched my face, fingers lightly brushing my cheek. I gasped, not meaning to, but my mind was elsewhere, and his touch so unexpected that a brief flicker of heat bloomed defensively inside me, an instinctive reaction to a perceived threat. He must have sensed it because he turned his back on me, instantly severing the peculiar moment.
The ghost of his touch still brushed my cheek. I lifted my hand to my face where the cool imprint lingered. It hadn’t hurt—quite the opposite. It was as though his ice element had briefly eased through my skin. It was a natural reaction for two demons, like an elemental handshake, but our opposite elements made for an interesting interaction. I found it quite intriguing and deeply confusing.
“This is the sword that’s caused all the trouble.” He lifted a katana from its cradle and presented it to me in such a formal manor that I didn’t want to take it, especially after just having one sword download a gruesome fragment of its history into my head. The elaborate guard, unusual for a katana, confirmed it as the same sword he’d brought to my workshop.
Seeing my hesitation, he set the sword down on the workbench. “You need to read this.”
In my workshop when I’d first laid eyes on the weapon, I’d instinctively touched it, sensing a connection with it. Now though, I recognized my hesitation as fear. The undulating ripples along the surface of the blade were the result of the metal being folded over and over during its forging process. Each fold strengthened the blade and made the weapon unique. Like a fingerprint, those marks could never be reproduced. Whatever secrets it contained were there forever.
Stefan stepped back, giving me room, but I didn’t move. “It’s not going to be easy,” he warned.
“Why don’t you just tell me?” I shivered and clutched my jacket tighter around me.
He hesitated, as though considering it. “You won’t believe me.”
I didn’t like the sympathy in his eyes or the weight of his words. “This is the proof… About Akil?” I chewed on my lip.
“It’s all in there.”
“How far back do I have to go?” Old weapons have many memories. If I was going back more than a few years, it would take time and effort.
“Monday morning.”
“A few days, not long. Good.” I stalled. The recent event should be easy to pin down. All I need do was look for Akil. “Will I see you?”
“Possibly.” He thought for a few beats. “Probably.”
I stepped up against the workbench but kept my hands back, locking them against the edges of the bench. I had my suspicions about Akil. My brother had denied all involvement. In all likelihood, Akil was the one behind the Hellhounds, but I didn’t have proof. Proof meant I’d have to believe it, and inside, I didn’t want to. Without Akil, I was alone in a world that wanted me dead, and that was not somewhere I wanted to be. Sure, I’d tried to run away, but Akil had always been there, watching over me. If I had proof Akil was trying to kill me, I had no idea what I was supposed to do about it.
“Would you prefer I leave?” Stefan tried to catch my eye, but I couldn’t look away from the sword. I flexed my fingers beside me.
“No. When I go under… I’ll need you here.” A quick glance told me he watched closely. “I don’t know how I’ll react.”
Stefan nodded. “You won’t be able to summon much of your element here. The marks you see on the walls, they’ll prevent you drawing on the energy outside this building. Like at the basement apartment. The worst you can do here is blow a few bulbs.”
His brief smile held more warmth than I’d seen from him all afternoon. Even those bitterly cold eyes had softened. It occurred to me that he might actually care until I realized what that must mean. Whatever was hidden in the blade, it wasn’t going to have a happy ending.
I deliberately ran my left hand down the katana’s edge. The blade was so sharp I hardly felt the cut at all, but the blood flowed freely. A few drops pooled together on the workbench. I wiped my hands together, smothering them in blood. It would seal the link to the past more easily if the blood was fresh. Wrapping my left hand around the cool metal, I immediately felt the weight of knowledge bear down on me.
“We have a problem.” Ryder’s gravelly voice penetrated my wandering thoughts. I’d have fallen into the past had Stefan not touched my hand. His warm fingers resting over mine tugged me back before I could slip further into the blade. He eased my left hand from the sword, fixing his eyes on mine before turning his attention to Ryder. It took a moment to clear my head. I’d only touched the blade for a few seconds, but the weight of its secrets had quickly tugged me under. Left any longer, I wouldn’t have been roused so easily. Ryder showed Stefan the screen on his phone and dragged a hand down his bristly chin.
“Damnit. How did he find us?” Stefan and Ryder looked at me.
“What?”
Stefan p
resented the phone to me. On the screen, I clearly saw the black limo parked adjacent to Nica’s Mercedes, blocking the street outside. I winced. “Yeah, I was going to ask you how to revoke an invitation…”
“You invited him into your life?” Stefan’s gaze widened. “Are you insane?”
I clamped my jaw shut, grinding my teeth. “Hey, don’t judge me. Okay? It’s your fault.”
“My fault?” He barked a laugh. “And how exactly did I force you into signing your life over to a Prince of Hell?”
“You wouldn’t leave me alone.” I clenched my hand around the cut in my palm. The slight sting of pain was oddly welcome. “When you showed up at my apartment, I had to reveal what I was, but after you fled, I couldn’t control the energy.” I frowned. “With no outlet, it turned on me. Akil was…” Stefan’s stare bore into me. I felt the disappointment roll off him in waves. “He was there. Okay? When I needed him, he was there.”
Stefan tossed the phone back to Ryder. With his back to me, he ran a hand through his hair and took a few moments to think. “He knows you’re here.” He faced me once more, his blue eyes crystalline. I felt the temperature in the room drop a few degrees. “Go to him. Lie to him. Whatever you have to do. You brought him here, Muse. You get rid of him.”
It wasn’t that simple. “I can’t lie to him. He’ll know.”
Stefan scowled. The displeasure on his face darkened my mood even more. “There’s no other option here,” he said. “If you don’t lie to him about why you’re here, he’ll tear you, me, and this place apart.”
Ryder gave me a sympathetic glance. At least he seemed to realize exactly what Stefan was asking of me. “He only knows you’re here, Muse. He doesn’t know why, and he doesn’t know Stefan’s here. Just tell him the Merc died on you. I’ll back you up.”
“What about Nica? She’ll tell him.”
Stefan plucked a short sword from the workbench. “I’ll talk to her. Just get out there, Muse, before he comes looking for you.”
“Don’t hurt her.”
Stefan gave me a weary sigh. “I’ll find you. Just keep Akil happy. I’ll get to you.”
Ryder beckoned to me, and I had no choice but to follow, my steps heavy with dread. After a quick stop in a washroom to clean the blood from my hands and stem the flow from the cut with a paper towel, we returned to the workshop. The shutters were closed, thankfully, so Akil couldn’t see inside. It didn’t stop me from sensing him though. My body trembled a little as the sheer weight of his power lingered in the air like the threat of an oncoming storm.
“I can’t do this.”
Ryder clutched my shoulders, all authoritative. “You get out there. You tell him what he wants to hear. It’s not just your life that’s at risk here. You’ve got to do this.” He released me and beckoned Nica forward. She’d been watching quietly, aware that something was very wrong. I nodded, indicating she should do as Ryder asked while wondering what Stefan would do to her. I didn’t think he’d hurt her, but I couldn’t be sure. She was Akil’s personal assistant, a spy in our ranks and liable to reveal all.
As Ryder escorted Nica out the back door to the armory, I stood behind the personnel door in the front of the workshop, hand gripping the handle. Akil’s elemental magic wrapped its explorative tendrils around me, calling to me. I was about to lie to a Prince of Hell, Mammon, the Prince of Greed. Had I been full demon like my brother, I might have been able to pull it off, but half human, my emotions were my weakness. I wasn’t capable of it.
I shoved open the door, shielding my eyes from the piercing brightness of the winter sun. Crossing in front of Nica’s car toward the limo, I tried to plaster an easy smile across my lips, but it felt wooden, like trying to snap twigs. My hands trembled. I clutched them in front of me as the limo’s rear door opened. I can’t do this… I can’t do this…
Akil emerged from the back of the car. The sunglasses shielding his eyes made it impossible for me to accurately read his expression. He wasn’t smiling. His lips pulled thin. My heart did a little skip. I can’t do this.
“Hey,” I gushed, forcing too much glee into the single word in my desperation to appear innocent.
Akil stood behind the open door, a hand placed on the roof of the car. He turned his head to take in Nica’s car beside us, and the closed shutters on the workshop. I smiled brightly, but figured it probably came off as a grimace.
“We—er—we had some car trouble.”
“Where’s Nica?”
His voice betrayed nothing, its tone flat. I assumed he was angry, and the stoic mask was there to cover the simmering rage. He hadn’t called his element, but that only meant he wasn’t concerned.
“She’ll be out in a minute. She’s talking to the mechanic… You didn’t have to come all this way. We were having coffee.” I shrugged. “A girls’ afternoon out.”
His gaze dropped a little. The direction of his attention was difficult for me to ascertain behind those dark glasses. Then I realized he was looking at my hands. I clasped them a little tighter together, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot. Akil slammed the car door and strode toward me. He took my hands in his and turned them over, revealing the two cuts across my left palm: one from summoning Val and the other from attempting to read the sword. He wouldn’t know why the cuts were there, but there was no way I could disguise my sharp intake of breath.
“What did you do?”
I looked up at him. “I…I summoned Val.”
Akil dropped my hands and snatched the sunglasses from his face. He slowly folded the sunglasses and tucked them over the waistband of his trousers, each movement precise and deliberate. I wasn’t sure how long I could stand there waiting for him rage at me. My knees were about to give out.
“Why would you do such a foolish thing?” His voice still level, he fixed his dark eyes on me. I’d preferred him with the sunglasses on. Now I had the full weight of his stare on me. I refused to look away, knowing if I did, it would give him the hint of guilt he needed.
“I wanted to ask him why he sent the Hellhounds.”
Ryder stepped from the door with Nica in tow. He swaggered up to Akil, thrusting out a grubby, grease-covered hand. “Nice car, but I wouldn’t leave it around here for long.” Ryder indicated across the street with a nod. The hoods were back—five this time, a veritable crowd. They watched us, hands tucked in their pockets, shoulders slouched, but I began to wonder if there was more to them than first met the eye. Perhaps the little collection of fine cars had brought them out, or Ryder knew them. Were they back-up?
Akil barely registered their presence. He regarded Ryder’s hand with a slight curl of his lip. Once Ryder realized Akil had no intention of shaking his hand, he tucked his thumbs into the waistband of his jeans, not in the least bit bothered by Akil’s brush off. “These ladies, huh? Can’t live with ‘em, can’t live without ‘em.” He slapped a hand on the hood of Nica’s car. “Ran out of fuel. Would you believe it? They’re lucky I’m a nice guy. Especially as this little doll here has had a few too many beers.”
Nica flicked her hair out of her face. “I’m fine. Thank you, but… Charlie, you should drive.”
“Sure.” I was all too happy to get in her car. The thought of riding back with Akil made me nauseous. She tossed me the keys. Grateful for the excuse to get away from Akil, I hurried around the car and ducked in the driver’s side, acutely aware of Akil’s stare burning into me. Nica climbed in beside me, and we both watched Akil say a few words to Ryder. Whatever they had been, it was enough to wipe Ryder’s smile off his face. We drove back in virtual silence, the limo a constant presence in the rear view mirrors.
“I won’t say anything,” Nica said.
She wouldn’t meet my glance and didn’t say another word for the entire journey. I believed her, but I wondered what Stefan had said to her to guarantee her silence. I had more to worry about than Nica’s silence. Akil would have questions, and he wasn’t going to like my answers.
Chapter Fourteen
The superb surroundings of the Trade Restaurant bustled with Boston’s elite. Glasses chinked while laughter tickled the air. An authentic décor hinted at its waterside location. Pieces of driftwood decorated the room like well-placed pieces of art while leather and glass gave the place an air of quality. It was delightful, but I was miserable.
Nica had called Akil’s apartment to inform me that my presence was requested here at 7pm. Akil couldn’t even be bothered to ask me himself. That annoyed me. Nica’s cold shoulder annoyed me. The fact I had no idea how I was going to get myself out of this mess angered me. Frankly, I could barely contemplate surviving another night. I told myself it wasn’t as bad as all that, and then remembered where I’d been before Akil had plucked me out of obscurity. There are things worse than death.
Akil was late. When he eventually arrived, someone accosted him in the doorway, shaking his hand as though he were royalty. Maybe they knew what he was. Maybe they didn’t. It didn’t really matter. Human or demon, he was untouchable. He had it all. Money. Respect. Anyone of the women in the restaurant would have gladly followed him home. All he needed do was catch their eyes. He was a force of nature. An elemental demon walking amongst men. A god.
How the hell was I supposed to beat that?
Akil noticed the half empty wine bottle on the table and suppressed a smile as he sat down opposite me.
“You’re late,” I grumbled.
“Traffic.”
I snorted a laugh. Traffic? He could bend reality around him, and a few stop lights had prevented him from being on time. Right.
A waiter appeared and offered Akil a choice of wine. I glared at him through the brief exchange, watching him taste the wine and express his preference before the waiter poured him a glass. Once the waiter departed, Akil met my stare, his smile hitching up a little. “You’re angry.”
I shrugged. “No.”
He leaned forward, swirling the wine in his glass. “You are angry with me.” He, on the other hand, appeared to be in quite a good mood, as though my anger pleased him.
Beyond The Veil (The Veil Series) Page 11