My element slashed through my flesh, lancing up my entire right side. I was beyond screaming. I’d retreated from my physical self, my human mind unable to cope with the pain. Power still tore into me, slashing great talons of energy through my body.
I felt rather than saw the veil open. My demon instinctively reached for home, seeking an escape, but she could no more escape than I could. Stefan had Akil’s limp body draped over his shoulders. Blood flowed down his coat, dripping over his boots and onto the pier. I couldn’t think clearly enough to understand what was happening. Nica was there, beside him, her face wet with tears.
Fire scorched every inch of my flesh. I could end this. The water. If I could get to the water… I could escape. It had nearly killed me before, but death seemed like the easy way out compared to the body-sundering assault my element was dealing me. I searched for Stefan, needing to see those cool winter eyes one last time. Amid the heat and flame, I caught sight of him. He saw me too, and a weighted sadness crossed his face. I reached out, extending flames toward him and then he turned away and carried Akil through the veil. The tear in reality stitched itself back up behind him, and he was gone.
Gone.
I couldn’t do this. I needed him. Someone. Anyone. I couldn’t do this alone. My demon snarled at me, snapping inside my skull. She wanted to release the power. Let it all go, she hissed. …the delicious release of chaos. Taste it. Let it go. Burn the city, burn the people, burn, burn, burn.
I clawed at the pier, nails fracturing, and dragged my blazing body to the pier’s edge. Better to smother the flames, to drown in the darkness, than release the desires of the demon. I was half-human, and she was mine to command. She would not win, could not beat me. I would always be human first. My life here—my love—it was mine, and she would not take that from me.
I slipped off the edge of the pier and into the water.
Chapter Twenty Six
I don’t remember Nica pulling me out, nor do I recall Adam scooping my cold, limp body off the pier before bundling me into the back of a car. They later told me I was unconscious and non-responsive for a week. Had it not been for the sweltering heat I radiated, they’d have given me up as a lost cause.
At least I have no memory of the pain. My human mind had locked it all away in a box marked Do Not Touch–Ever. My demon would remember it, but I didn’t have to deal with that because the Institute had their claws in me, and my demon half had been sent packing.
I had a new prison cell, furnished with steel bars.
Adam visited me daily. A man of few words, he’d sit outside my cell and scribble a few notes. It was just as well they’d taken my demon from me because I’d have spontaneously combusted him on sight had I the power to do it.
I refused to speak to them. It was all the power I had left, so I stubbornly used it, hoping they’d forget about me—maybe even let me go if I played dumb long enough. No such luck. Adam hadn’t spoken Stefan’s name in weeks. He’d asked me a few rudimentary questions, which I’d refused to answer, but for some reason, that day, he decided to broach the subject.
“Do you know what happened to Stefan?” he asked in a monotone way, like a doctor might ask how you are on this fine sunny day.
I kept my head bowed, letting my tangled hair hide my expression. I knew what I’d seen, but I didn’t know what it meant. When I finally did speak, my voice rasped across my cracked lips. “He took Akil back to hell…”
Adam let the quiet return before speaking. “He offered himself to the veil as a human sacrifice. He took Akil to the netherworld, making sure the Prince of Greed could never return.”
I remembered the blood I’d seen dripping down Stefan’s coat, but I hadn’t known what it meant. I did now. He wasn’t coming back. A one way trip. He had said as much when discussing the idea of a sacrifice in the library with Ryder. I cared, I did, but numbness had descended over me. I knew it was a coping mechanism. The only way I could function was to not feel anything, but it was a tenuous solution, liable to fracture at any moment. I looked at Adam and wondered if he’d gained a few more worry lines since I’d walked out of here in a little black dress all those weeks ago. “He’ll come back,” I said.
Adam tilted his head to the side. “No. He’s a half-blood in the netherworld without an owner to protect him. How long do you think he’ll last?”
I clenched my teeth. Did this man not feel anything at all for his son? “He’ll come back.”
Adam stood with a weary, drawn-out sigh. “He’s likely already dead.”
I lunged at the bars, hissing. “He was right to despise you.”
“Perhaps.” Adam folded his notebook and tucked the pen into his shirt pocket before peering back at me, his soft brown eyes deceptively beguiling. “Of course, we could train you. If you worked for us, we could provide the knowledge you need to retrieve him.”
“Sure, let me out of here, give me my demon back, and I’ll help you.” I don’t think he appreciated my sarcasm.
He dragged a hand across his bristly chin then scratched at his cheek. “You’ll come around.”
I watched him walk away. The heavy steel door opened. A guard acknowledged him before pulling the door closed and twisting the lock.
Alone, I clenched the bars in my warm hands and tilted my head back, closing my eyes. Stefan was locked beyond the veil in a world that despised him where every rippling shadow might kill him. I’d been there. I’d lived much of my life in the netherworld, most of it on my knees in chains. Stefan was alone, and he’d trapped a Prince of Hell with him. I couldn’t begin to imagine how he’d survive, but he would. I had to believe he would. He’d survive until I could get to him.
I paced my tiny cell, hands laced in my hair.
Stefan had lied to me. He’d dashed my hopes. I hated him and what he’d done to me. He’d tossed my misplaced love back in my face, but I couldn’t leave him there. He didn’t deserve that. Nobody deserved that. If the Institute wanted to waste their time and money training me, that was their mistake. As soon as I got my demon back, I would cross the veil. Val was there, waiting for me. So was Akil. It was madness to even consider it, but what else did I have? Anything that had ever mattered to me, gone.
I stopped pacing and stood in the center of my cell, hands clenched at my sides. I’d work for the Institute. I’d play their game. I’d lie to them, let them believe me an ally, and when they trusted me, when they thought me one of them, I’d be back with Stefan to tear this place down around them.
***
Epilogue
The light had long ago given up the ghost, but I didn’t mind the dark. It suited my mood. The bleached-white light from the workshop spilled into the small office through the dusty window, pooling enough of a wan glow across the desk the I could see the scuffs on my boots.
I heard the workshop door rumble open and glanced through the cobwebs covering the workshop’s little window. The white sheet covering the half-finished Dodge Charger bellowed like a skirt as the uninvited breeze slipped beneath it, then settled gently as the door closed.
I counted a few beats before Ryder poked his head around the office door. He wouldn’t have wasted any time searching elsewhere for me. There was only one place I went when I needed to think.
“You’re up. Demon, Class C, downtown.”
I rocked my chair back, feet still resting on the desk. A Class C was a minor demon sighting, little more than a box ticking exercise. It was all I was permitted to do as a trainee Enforcer.
Ryder didn’t hide his frown. He sucked in a breath and entered the gloomy office, tucking his thumbs into the pockets of his grease stained jeans. I could smell gun oil and knew he’d been working on his collection of Institute guns. He was the go-to guy for the Enforcer weaponry, and despite his disheveled appearance, he was a damn good weapons expert.
He scratched at an eyebrow and glanced back out the door, clearly uncomfortable with my silence. “Muse, you gotta talk to someone.” He smiled, but it looked sh
eepish on his face, as though he were embarrassed to even mention his next words. “It’s been months. You’ve not said a word about him; not mentioned him at all. It ain’t healthy.”
It was sweet that he cared enough to raise the subject. Talking about feelings wasn’t one of Ryder’s strong points. “What do you know about healthy?” I smiled. “I’ve never known a guy who could survive on coffee and Doritos before.”
He lifted his hands, guilty as charged. “All right. I’m not the guy to talk to, but you gotta talk to someone. This silence, it ain’t doin’ you any favors.”
He was talking about the Institute and their incessant reporting. Ryder was my handler. My tutor. My babysitter. Everything I did, every move I made, every screw up, he reported to the Institute. It wasn’t his fault. He had a job to do. At least he didn’t lie about it. Who could I talk to? Nica hadn’t said three words to me since that night on the pier, blaming me for her brother’s sacrifice. I might not have felt so alone if they’d given my demon back, but she was off limits. All I had was Ryder.
“I want my demon back.” I plucked at a loose thread on my jacket. “I don’t care about anything else.”
“Not even Stefan?”
I flicked my gaze up without lifting my head, peering at him through my lashes. “Stefan’s dead.”
Neither of us believed it, but it was the right thing to say. The Institute needed to believe I’d given up hope, so that’s what I told them. Ryder knew it was a lie, but he played the same game I did. Only when Adam and the Institute thought I was entirely theirs, would I get my demon back. Only then could I go beyond the veil and go after Stefan.
It had been months since Stefan had offered himself to the veil, locking both himself and Akil on the other side, and it would be longer still before the Institute trusted me. But if any half-blood could survive on his own in the demon realm, I had to believe it would be Stefan.
A quirky smile chased away the concern on Ryder’s face. “C’mon, lil’ firecracker. I’ll race you there. First one on scene buys the beers.”
I made a show of examining my nails, then flashed him a grin. Ryder bolted from the doorway with me in hot pursuit.
He always wins.
***
To be continued.
Wanting More?
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www.pippadacosta.wix.com/beyond-the-veil
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Author Interview
This is the first novel in The Veil Series. Did you find the story came to you easily?
BTV (Beyond The Veil) was one of those rare books that writes itself, by that I mean the plot carried me along at a blistering pace. I’ve slogged through many a book, practically dragging the story out by the scruff of the neck. Compared to those, BTV was a pleasure. I wrote the first draft within six weeks. Even during the editing process (editing is something I usually dread) BTV was gentle with me. I think it comes down to a concise plot and clearly motivated characters. If you can get that right, the rest flows naturally.
Did the idea of Muse’s world come to you already developed, or did you have one particular starting point from which it grew?
The opening chapter of BTV came first. I had the scene in my head and was meant to be working on another novel at the time, but this damn image wouldn’t let me go. It was so ripe with conflict on so many levels that I wrote a quick outline, thinking that would be enough to placate my imagination, but the idea had its claws in me now. I had no choice but to sit down and write the scene, or risk going insane trying to hold it back. Many authors will tell you that the first chapter in a book often gets rewritten by the time the ending comes around. BTV’s opening chapter is much the same as it was in the first draft. Once I had a few thousand words down I attempted a rough outline for the story and the rest, as they say, is history. The world that Muse inhabits, the framework, relationships, and characters, all grew from that one scene.
What was the most challenging aspect of Beyond The Veil? Were there any surprises?
Stefan was a difficult character to pin down. In fact, his motivations were always a little sketchy and still are. To fit the genre I tried to push him in the direction of would-be hero, but he wasn't having it. After much internal wrangling, I let him have his way - hence the reveal at the end when Muse learns of Stefan’s outright betrayal from the first chapter. He’s consistently lied to her throughout the book; some might say he’s worse than Akil in that respect. What do you think?
What is it about urban fantasy that keeps you writing more?
I was writing urban fantasy before the genre existed. Back in my teens, some twenty years ago, I buried myself in fantasy within a contemporary setting. I’ve been influenced by the likes of the Highlander TV series, The Last Unicorn, Dark Angel and Buffy. At one point, I devoured every urban fantasy novel I could get my hands on, including the early Laurell K Hamilton books, Patricia Briggs, and Charlaine Harris. There’s something about paranormal occurrences happening in the same place and time we all live in, that really appeals, especially when you put all the ingredients in an urban setting.
Where do you write and do you have a routine?
Anywhere, and no. Well, let me explain. I have two children, aged 4 and under, so I snatch time pretty much whenever they allow it. Mostly, I write when the little devils are in bed, and I’m guaranteed a few hours in the ‘zone’. I use a laptop for the first draft. I pop earphones in, and I’m gone. Editing is a little easier to work around the kids as it requires a more analytical approach, which I can dip in and out of throughout the day.
Do you plot every aspect of your novels?
I start with an idea. It could be anything; an image, a character, a conversation, and then I drum out a few thousand words to see where the story takes me. Once that process is complete, I attempt to create an outline, but whether I stick to it or not depends on how the story plays out. Occasionally the plot can take an unexpected turn, in which case I stop and rework my outline to see if everything still conforms to the initial idea. For me, writing is an organic process; the first draft, a creative roller coaster. Each book is different. For example, for the second book on The Veil Series, draft-titled Devil May Care, I had a clear outline. It’s obvious from the end of the first book, where the characters will be going (physically and mentally) so an outline was required to pin these vital plot points down.
Some readers have likened your style to Jim Butcher’s Dresden Files; would you agree?
I was late to the Dresden Files and am still playing catch-up with the series. In fact, it was only when a number of readers mentioned the Dresden series that I took an interest in the books. I do write in a similarly conversational first person narrative, but beyond that, the worlds and stories have very different arcs. Although, I would like to witness a conversation between Muse and Harry.
What are you planning next for The Veil Series?
Devil May Care, the second book in The Veil Series, is currently going through many rounds of editing. We get to further explore Muse’s complicated relationship with Akil, resulting in a much darker book than BTV. We also visit the netherworld, where Muse was raised. It’s not somewhere you’ll be holidaying any time soon. And of course, we can’t have a Veil book without ‘Mr Cool’ making an appearance.
I’m also busy writing the third book in the series.
I’d like to explore both Stefan and Akil’s lives before events in BTV, plus there may be some Institute short-stories in the works. I’m limited only by my imagination, which shows no sign of letting me rest any time soon!
Which character is your favorite? Stef
an or Akil?
That’s a cruel question. How can I choose between them? That’s like asking a parent to pick their favorite child. But… those who know me, know I have a soft spot for Stefan, but Akil is temptation personified. He’s the bad kid at school, the guy the girls’ lust after, and the one the parents don’t want their daughters to bring home.
***
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Visit www.pippadacosta.com
Born in Tonbridge, Kent in 1979, Pippa's family moved to the South West of England where she grew up amongst the dramatic moorland and sweeping coastlands of Devon & Cornwall. With a family history brimming with intrigue, complete with Gypsy angst on one side and Jewish survivors on another, she has the ability to draw from a patchwork of ancestry and use it as the inspiration for her writing. Happily married and the Mother of two little girls, she resides on the Devon & Cornwall border.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
For my Dad. For all the adventures we had together. I know he would be proud, but there was always room for improvement. Miss you.
FEEDBACK
As an independent author, your comments are extremely important to me. Please do get in touch, either on the website or via Facebook & Twitter. Just search for Pippa DaCosta.
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