Nica fell silent, the echoes of her voice still rippling through the library. It was the most she’d said to me in months. I searched for a meaningful reply, something that would relay how I understood, how there was nothing we could have done. “It’s pretty messed up, huh?” I failed.
When she looked up, her eyes glistened. “You don’t know what it’s like. You don’t have anyone...” She paused, her focus softening. “He used to make it snow for me. This place has loads of hidden exits if you know where to look. We’d sneak out sometimes.” She blinked and tilted her head back, her lashes wet with tears. “We’d go to the public gardens—to the George Washington statue, and it would start snowing.” She swiped at a tear with the back of her hand. “I loved it. Snow is so... magical. He froze the frog pond once. You know the one? Where the little frog statues sit lookin’ all pensive.” She laughed softly. “We were going to try to walk on the ice, but someone saw us.” Another tear escaped. “Freezing a pond in the height of summer wasn’t normal. Daddy nearly...” Her words trailed off, her smile fracturing.
She didn’t need to finish for me to guess what Adam might have done— nothing good. Stefan would have taken the blame. It was in his nature to protect; I’d witnessed his devotion firsthand. Nica was right; Stefan had done the wrong thing for the right reasons. Hindsight’s a bitch.
She rolled her lips together as if to hide how her lips turned down. “But it’s okay.” She sniffed and nodded firmly. “We got away from Akil. It could have been a lot worse.”
“I’m going after Stefan.” I tried to hold her gaze, but she flicked hers away. “As soon as I get my demon back, I’m bringing him home.”
Her eyes widened a little, the brightness there beginning to fade. “You know he’s dead, Muse.”
I shook my head. “No.”
“He’s never been across the veil. He’s half human. You know what it’s like better than I do, but I’ve heard enough. I’ve read about it.” She glanced at the array of books on the table. “I’ve done my research. There are demons there who will chew him up and spit him out. Monsters the size of cruise ships. It’s been months. Maybe...maybe if you’d gone straight away. But it’s been too long. He’s dead.”
“I couldn’t go. They took my demon.” I shook my head and reached for her hand, but she snatched it away. “Listen. Just listen. My owner’s back. He’s looking for me, and he knows things only Stefan could have told him. About the Institute—about Enforcers. Adam thinks Stefan is alive. I’m getting Stefan back. You have to believe that.”
“The Enforcer murders...” She blinked. Her pale blue eyes widened, and the color drained from her face. “Your owner is behind it?” She pressed her hand against her neck. “I heard the Enforcers talking... Those poor women.”
“Yes. There’s no other way Damien could know about the Enforcers. He’s all demon, and as far as I know, he’s never crossed the veil before. He wouldn’t know how to catch a bus, let alone track an Enforcer, kill her, and then go back into hiding. Once Damien discovered I was alive and unclaimed, he would have used anything to get to me. Akil. Stefan. They have the knowledge Damien needed. I know, Nica. I do. Stefan is alive.”
“Akil could have told him… You nearly killed Akil, Muse. I saw you. You were… something else; terrifying. Akil would want you dead.” She spoke as though her thoughts were elsewhere. I wondered if she was remembering her days with Akil. The Institute had sent her in as a mole. He hadn’t appreciated it. “He could have told your owner about the Enforcers. Couldn’t he?” She pinned a hopeful gaze on me.
I’d thought about that. “No. Akil doesn’t know the inner workings of the Institute. He might want me dead, yeah, but he doesn’t know anything about Enforcers. It has to be Stefan.” Could Stefan have told Damien everything? “I don’t know why he would tell Damien.”
“I do. He tried to help you, and you told him to go to hell.” She bit into her bottom lip and swallowed hard. “I can’t believe you. He’s gone. He’s not coming back.” She gathered the books and tucked them into a canvas bag. “Even if he’s alive, which is highly unlikely, he can’t cross the veil again. He’s trapped there with Akil. That was the key to stopping Akil from coming back. Stefan’s trapped there in a world filled with demons who want him dead. Jesus, Muse, open your eyes.” She turned and glowered at me. “You need to let go.”
I watched her stalk out of the library and slumped back in my chair. Stefan and Nica had been close. Nica had been Stefan’s lifeline to the outside world. When he’d taken Akil beyond the veil, he’d left behind the only family he’d ever had—a sister he loved. He’d known it was a one way trip. And I’d told him to go to hell.
Chapter 9
The demon’s scales shimmered beneath the streetlights. His scaled armor rattled, and he hissed a warning. He blinked inner eyelids over round green pupils and bolted down the suburban street. He had wings bunched against his back, but for whatever reason, he wasn’t using them. Head down, I dashed down the sidewalk after him. He swerved around a mailbox and leapt over a picket fence.
Things had taken a turn for the worse rather quickly. A routine call, Ryder had said. Drop by on your way back. Form filling exercise. The demon had known what I was as soon as I’d climbed from the non-descript Institute Nissan. The curtain in the front window of the house had twitched. From there, things went south before I had a chance to knock.
Mister Average had exited that quaint clapboard house with enough swagger in his stride to make me hesitate and reach for my gun right before his entire man-suit peeled apart to reveal the demon inside. Despite being an Enforcer, I hadn’t actually expected to come face to face with a seven-foot, winged-demon on a leafy suburban street. He lunged forward, lower jaw splitting apart to reveal four writhing tendrils, each tipped with barbs, then hissed a warning and bolted. Considering his armored bulk, he ran like the wind.
I took the picket fence in a leap and chased his shadow around the side of a house, into the back yard. He didn’t head out the back gate as I’d expected, but plowed straight through the glass sliding doors and into the house. Evidently, the demon knew the owners, and they’d invited him in sometime in the past; for coffee, maybe.
I jabbed at my cell. Without needing to make a call, I sent an alert to HQ letting them know the situation was about to get out of hand. They’d be all over this place in minutes. Broken glass crunched beneath my boots as I stepped through the shattered doors into a lounge. The house was dark except for a few blinking lights from various electronic gadgets. It would take a while for my eyes to adjust. I reached inside my jacket and unclipped the Baretta Pico from its holster. I cupped the little gun in a firm grip. Normal bullets wouldn’t keep a demon down for long—that was what the jet-injector in my left pocket with its dose of PC34 was for. Bullets, however, were an effective deterrent should this demon decide I’d make a tasty early evening snack.
I checked the hall and listened. A clock ticked somewhere to my left, and the boiler hummed. A board creaked above me. I was light on my feet, but each stair groaned a protest as I made my way to the second floor.
At the top, I paused. I didn’t have back-up, and my eyes weren’t fully adjusted to the dark. I wasn’t sure of the demon’s lineage, but I could bet my month’s wages on him having better night vision than me.
Muffled shuffling and a few awkward bumps behind a closed door revealed his location. He was waiting. I had two choices: wait for back-up, or take him down myself. Training told me to wait, but there was more at stake than following the guidelines. If I could take this demon down, on my own, Adam would have to admit I was ready to qualify as an Enforcer. He might still withhold my demon, but it would be another step toward freedom.
“This doesn’t have to get nasty.” I kept my voice level, trying to instill some calm authority. I didn’t quite nail it, probably due to the fact I was about to go toe-to-toe with a demon twice my size. “I don’t know why you ran, but if you’ve done nothing wrong, you don’t need to wor
ry. Why don’t you come out, tell me your side, and nobody gets bumped back across the veil.”
More shuffling accompanied a rattle of scales. “You’ll kill me.” He must have reapplied his man-suit because the voice sounded human and afraid.
“Not unless I have to.” I flexed my slick grip on the gun.
“Your kind don’t ask questions. You shoot to kill. I know.” His words tumbled out so quickly that he barely took breaths between them. “It was that Missus Donaldson. Wasn’t it? Always sticking her nose in. I just want to stay here—that’s all. That’s not going to happen now. No way. I’ll have to leave. I can’t go back. I can’t. It’s been too long. Too long.”
I inched closer to the door. “Like I said. We don’t kill unless we have to.” I pressed my back against the wall and reached my left hand down to the handle, gripping the gun in my right. A car screeched to a halt outside, then another. Once the heavies arrived, the demon was toast. “Let me walk you out of here, and you’ll have your chance to plead your case. Fight me, and the Institute will take you out, or worse.”
“Is it t-true?”
I pushed down on the handle. “Is what true?”
“They capture us; run tests, like we’re animals.”
I hesitated, hand lingering on the handle, door almost released. I didn’t know the answer for certain, but I knew what they’d done to me and some of what they’d done to Stefan, and I suspected we were the lucky ones. I could have lied and told him everything would be fine, that the Institute was reasonable, that they wouldn’t hurt him, but I couldn’t do it. Maybe I felt something like compassion for him. Demon to demon. “Yes.”
“Then you can’t have me.”
I flung open the door and ducked inside, swinging the gun around while taking in the child’s bedroom with its Disney character bedclothes and bright wallpaper. I pinned the demon in my sights. He reared up to his full height, shook off his man-suit, and stretched badly deformed wings out behind him. Those green eyes fixed on me right before he sprang forward.
I fired, and the little gun kicked in my hands. The heat from my element poured into my veins and thrust fire into my muscles. The influx of raw elemental power snapped down my spine and jerked away my control. I protectively recoiled in on myself, my demon assailant momentarily forgotten. He rammed me up against the wall. His barbed tongues thrashed at my face. My hand slipped on his scales, but I couldn’t get purchase to shove him back. I dug my nails in and tried to keep him at arm’s length, but the tongues still writhed too close to my face. I wedged the gun under his jaw and pulled the trigger. The bullet blasted through his skull, jerked his chin up, and threw his head back. He fell away from me into a heap on the floor.
Ripples of fire rolled down my legs and seeped across the floor. A pool of flame reached for the demon’s body and lapped at his arm. His armored-fingers twitched, muscles retracting from the heat. Fire laced around each digit, exploring, tasting. It wasn’t an attack, more a curious investigation, but it shouldn’t have been happening at all. I had no control over it.
I jabbed the toe of my boot into his torso. He didn’t move. Even after a gunshot to the head, you can never be too careful.
Car doors slammed outside. Boots hammered on the sidewalk.
I couldn’t let the Enforcers see me like this. I dashed into the bathroom at the back of the house. The fire’s embrace wrapped tightly around my body, pulling back from flammable surfaces like a creature with its own consciousness. I opened the window just as the bathroom door opened.
Ryder shied away from the heat, arm up to shield himself. Orange light danced over him.
I backed away. “Don’t tell them.”
His expression tightened, lips parting. He would have to tell the Institute. Of course he would. It was his job. His life. I was his responsibility. He didn’t need to say it. I read the truth on his face.
I held out a hand. Liquid fire rippled across my skin and twisted around my fingers. “Don’t come near me. I can’t control it. It shouldn’t be happening.” He chanced a step closer. “Don’t! Please. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Muse...” There were others behind him, more witnesses.
I felt the window at my back and eased my hand through. “I mean it. Stay back.” I ducked through the window and jumped. The impact with the backyard jolted through my legs. I used the pain to drive me forward and ran. Not unlike the demon I’d chased down, I ran from those I knew would hurt me. The men and woman back there, they’d see demon, not colleague.
I burst through the rear gate, flames spluttering, and dashed down a path toward a park. The Enforcers were behind me, shouting orders, coordinating their efforts to round me up. Pain sparked up my side as though someone had taken a sword to my flesh. I staggered and fell to a knee. The hand I planted against the path to stop myself had blackened to the color of soot. My nails lengthened and gleamed like black glass, becoming obsidian talons that curled into the dirt. I was changing, revealing the demon, but I still couldn’t feel her. She was silent. Gone. This shouldn’t have been happening.
“Don’t move!”
I swung the gun around and fired. Ryder’s left shoulder jerked back, rocking him off balance. The snarl on my lips wasn’t my own. He brought his gun up and narrowed his gaze down the sight. A dark stain spread across his shirt, and his left arm hung limp at his side, but his aim didn’t waver. “Muse, I can’t let you go,” he hissed through gritted teeth. “You’re a danger to yourself and others.”
Tearing my gaze away from him, I focused ahead, into the park, and the trees beyond. Launching to my feet, I ran, expecting to hear the crack of a bullet at any moment, the sudden flash and burn of a bullet piercing flesh, but it didn’t happen. He let me go.
Chapter 10
There were places in Boston—and in most capital cities—that an Enforcer only went if they were looking for trouble, like sending a cop into gang territory. I knew about the demon sanctuaries: parts of the city that harbored arriving demons, acclimatizing them to this world, but they were beyond my pay grade. I’d never visited one before. That was about to change.
I had a measly amount of cash in my pocket, a gun with limited ammo, and an unreliable elemental issue. Where else could I have gone? The Institute would lock me up and knock me out. They’d run tests from which I might never wake up. No thanks. At least the demons kept it simple. Yes, they all wanted me dead. A half-blood was about as low in the demon food-chain as you can get. There was probably a bounty on my head for killing my owner (despite the fact he was still alive) and for taking down a Prince of Hell. But I could use my reputation as armor. They would know my name, and would think twice about tackling me, at least to begin with. A half-demon, trainee Enforcer in demonville, without her demon, had about as much chance of surviving as a kitten in a lion’s den.
The Voodoo Lounge is the sort of backstreet club that tried very hard to be trendy but fell just short of the mark. Bathed in neon lights, it wasn’t shy about its presence. Inside white plastic glowed beneath ultraviolet light, and multicolored light rained across split level dance floors.
I slipped unnoticed into the crowd and ordered a drink at the bar. The congregation on the dance floor rippled to the dance music. Demons masquerading as humans moved differently than the real deal. They didn’t waste energy. A human woman might tap her nails against the bar to the music, for example, but a female demon wouldn’t bother unless it served a purpose. In the company of others, they sprang into motion, but a demons liquid gestures and smooth stride give them away. They’re good though. You have to know what to look for. Demons have spent just as long pretending to be us as we’ve walked upright on this earth.
The crowd at the Voodoo Lounge was perhaps eighty percent demon and all dressed in human suits. The crowd moved in one heaving mass of bodies, like a flock of birds evading a predator. It was surreal and deeply disconcerting.
The Institute could shut places like the Lounge down only when the clientele were caught
breaking the law. It was a losing battle. Another demon gathering point would open up down the street within weeks.
I was there because I needed someone outside of the Institute who could figure out why my element was on the fritz.
“Hello, sweet thing.” The woman who leaned casually against the bar beside me was the sort of beautiful bought beneath a surgeon’s knife and just as fake. If the flawless latte tone of her skin and plump kiss-me-quick lips didn’t trigger a few mental alarms, her iridescent eyes would have. Her navy blue trouser suit was tucked around an hourglass figure and flared over shapely hips. Stiletto heels hitched her height up a few more unnecessary inches so that she towered over my petite frame. Her dark hair, pinned back from one side of her face, exhibited an electric blue streak.
My skin prickled. I didn’t need a sixth sense to know she was demon. Too beautiful to be real, she didn’t exist in the same world as the rest of us. If I’d had my demon, I could have extended an elemental touch—a demon handshake—and gauged what sort of demon she was. But all I had to go on was my gut reaction.
“Don’t I know you?” Her words rolled syrup-like off her lips.
“Maybe,” I smiled and took a sip of my drink. Fear would get me killed. Demons smell it, taste it on you, and it drives them wild. Chaos adores fear. “You might be able to help me. I’m looking for a doctor.”
Her plucked eyebrows arched. “Does this look like a clinic?” She flicked long pianist fingers at the crowd before curling them back into her palm. I suspected her claws would be sharp.
Devil May Care: A Muse Urban Fantasy (The Veil Series Book 2) Page 5