Chaos Rises: A Veil World Urban Fantasy

by Pippa Dacosta

  “The coronam’s not here.”

  He waited up ahead, leaning a shoulder against a streetlight. Its washed-out glow circled him in a halo of orange light. He’d moved fast to get off the roof and circled around in front of me, but he wasn’t breathing hard. I knew he was quick. He’d streaked across his garden wearing just a towel and tackled me in a few seconds.

  I stepped into the road and walked around him. If I ignored him, he might go away.

  “You’re not going to help me then?”

  I shrugged. “Why should I?” I had enough to worry about. Besides, we were technically enemies. His owner despised my owner. There really wasn’t much to talk about.

  “Because…” He sighed. “I don’t have anyone else to ask.”

  I paused on the sidewalk, hands planted in my pockets, shoulders bowed. The hollow, empty tone of his voice had done it. Don’t go there, Gem. Too late. I was already comparing his life to mine. I’d always had Del. My brother had kept me sane, kept me safe when there was nothing left. His arm would settle around my shoulders, he’d pull me close, and nothing and nobody could touch us. It didn’t matter what I’d done or what had been done to me. Del never shied away.

  I was betting Torrent was alone. Maybe it was a stretch to assume that from one little sentence, but I’d heard the raw and reluctant admission in his words.

  When I turned and looked at him, standing in the light, he didn’t look like the guy who’d fired a crossbow bolt into my shoulder and left me pinned to his fence. He just kinda looked like someone waiting, like maybe there was a little hope in his eyes.

  I shook my head and sighed. I had enough to deal with already.

  “C’mon, you help me, and I’ll give you the coronam.”

  Well, damn. That was tempting. But for him to offer such a prize meant whatever he wanted help with wasn’t going to be a walk in the park. I raked my gaze over him again, reading everything. His crossbow hung at his hip, half hidden beneath the coat. He appeared to be a few years older than me, maybe mid-twenties, but demon appearances were deceiving. I knew he could fight, and I knew he likely had less obvious scars than those I’d seen on his body. Just because he was a half blood, it didn’t make us alike, and it didn’t mean I could trust him. Still, there weren’t many of us, as far as I knew. He was either created at the Institute, like me and Del, or born in the netherworld. But those, from what I’d read, rarely survived the constant torture of a life among demons. Was he Institute like me?

  I lifted my chin and faced him. “What’s so important that you’d trade for the coronam?”

  He hesitated, probably running all the things he knew about me through his head. His hand went to his pendant. He touched the winged key. “Will you come inside without trying to stick your ice in me?”

  A little smile tugged on my lips. “Will you tell me your real name?”

  I expected him to smile back, but instead, his brow creased, the confusion bleeding back into his gaze. “I can’t.”

  “Why?” I chuckled. “You know that whole demon names having power thing is a myth, right?”

  He wasn’t laughing or smiling. In fact, his shoulders had dropped, and a tight muscle fluttered in his jaw.

  “Forget I asked.”

  He turned, and with a flare of coat, stalked back to his house. I should have let him go. But the thought of going back to Fairhaven and sleeping in a bed a few floors above an imprisoned Prince of Hell trailed little shivers down my spine. I did need the coronam so I could get back on Allard’s good side. I wasn’t winning any favors by failing his every task.

  I trudged back to Torrent’s house and pushed open the kitchen door to find Torrent busy with cups and plates. A small countertop machine gurgled, spewing steam.

  Now that I wasn’t in a hurry to steal from him, I settled back against the countertop and admired his kitchen—and him. His jacket and crossbow had gone. A display of trust? Mistakes like that could get him killed.

  I ran my gaze over his back, noting how the shirt fabric shifted against his shoulders. He had impressive strength in his arms, enough to hold the crossbow steady for a considerable length of time. There was a leanness about him too, the honed kind, like a favored weapon. He’d clearly been dealt a few blows and was likely sharper for it.

  “What’s it like,” Torrent said, filling the quiet, “living with Allard and his demons?” He poured hot water into his cup. “Coffee?”

  “No,” I said, maybe a little too harshly.

  How could I explain Fairhaven? It beat being locked in one room or tied to an examination table for days on end while being pumped full of toxins or running the maze or not knowing where to bed down for the night or if I’d ever be rid of the hunger pangs again.

  I darted my gaze away, pushed off the counter, and wandered to a rectangular machine sitting on the countertop. Its clock flashed, waiting for input. It had a door, so I assumed something went inside. There were a few odd little machines like that one. I should know what they were, of course. But the Institute hadn’t taught me how to live, only how to kill.

  “Vanessa has a house, right on the cliffs, overlooking the bay. I’ve yet to figure out why she chose that spot. She hates water, naturally.”

  Fire demon. Naturally. I wondered why she had a water elemental as a half-blood pet. Or maybe that was the point. She probably got off on owning a pet of her opposite element. Did she give Torrent his cuts?

  “What does this do?” I asked, hoping to steer my thoughts away from what I’d seen of Torrent’s scars.

  He glanced my way and frowned when he saw what it was I was looking at. “Are you kidding?”

  I bristled. “Is my question funny?”

  His brow furrowed, and he twisted his lips, confused all over again. “You don’t know what a microwave is?”

  “What? I—of course I do.” I wished I hadn’t asked and glared at the microwave instead.

  “Where did they keep you, in a cave?”

  Screw this. Heat burned my cheeks. I turned away from him and headed for the door.

  “Wait—wait!”

  His fingers settled on my arm, snaring my attention and freezing me rigid. I shot him a warning growl, and the cool slither of his ethereal touch unfurled from where it had knotted on my leg.

  He quickly let go and stepped back. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

  I shouldn’t be here. If Allard suspects I’m talking with this half blood instead of killing him, he won’t be happy, even if it is to get his stupid rock back.

  I set my jaw. “Just because we’re half bloods doesn’t make us friends. I’ll help you if you give me the coronam. That’s it. Don’t ask me about Allard or my life. It’s not important. What is important is the other part of your deal, so start talking.”

  He blinked and ran a hand through his chestnut hair. “Fine.” He backed up and shrugged off my icy tone. “Help me get free of Vanessa. Do that, and I’ll give you the coronam.”

  I smiled, showing too many teeth. “The fire demon? She nearly roasted me alive yesterday. Even if I say yes, what makes you think I can help you?”

  He glared back at me. “Like I said, you’re the only one I can ask.”

  He was desperate. And I was a damned fool if I even considered going toe-to-toe with a demon like Vanessa. But Allard could.

  “Don’t make me beg,” he snarled. Snarled! That was hardly begging.

  “Oh, would you stop?” I should walk away, but I had to get that stone back.

  Torrent leaned against his counter, arms crossed. “Well?” He tapped his fingers on his upper arm.

  If I said no, would he let me walk away? My ice had yet to hurt him, but if I summoned enough of it and flung it all at him, some of it would get through.

  “I’d like to help you. I would…”

  He didn’t move—apart from the tapping fingers. Those paused for a beat and started up again.

  “If you want to be free of Vanessa, you’d basically h
ave to kill her, and that’s assuming she’s not one of the long-lived variety. I can’t kill her, Torrent.”

  “You tried to kill me. You didn’t hesitate then. So why not her?”

  “You’re the water elemental. You have a better chance—”

  He smiled, but it wasn’t a pleasant smile. It cooled the warmth in his eyes and set my teeth on edge. “Don’t you think I’ve tried?”

  “I want to help you. I just… It’s complicated.”

  “You’re afraid.” He made a pfft noise.

  A little shiver of anger stirred my element. “Don’t think you know me. Fear doesn’t factor into this. I was killing demons twice my size when I was six years old, so don’t you dare assume you know what I fear.”

  “Then help me.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Why not?” The smooth, liquid sweep of his element rose around us.

  “If Allard discovers—”

  He clamped his hands either side of him on the edge of the counter, locking himself down. “What’s his hold on you? Why don’t you just leave?”

  “Why don’t you?” I snapped back. He ground his teeth. “I can’t leave,” I hissed. Why was I even arguing with him? “I get it; I do. I know, okay. I know what she’s doing to you.” At least I had a pretty good idea, given Allard’s twisted affection for me.

  He glared, but the sharp glint of green in his eyes had dulled. When he realized I wasn’t about to agree, he sighed and bowed his head. A shudder ran through him, rinsing his element away. “Damn it. I can’t—” He stopped the words, even choked on them a little. “You ever been trapped in every possible way?”

  Trapped, with no choices and no way out. “Yes.” For years, for as long as I can remember. Whatever Vanessa held over him, it was crushing the life out of him. He didn’t have a brother to hold on to. “There might be another way.” His eyes lit up. “But I don’t know if it will work or just switch the problem elsewhere.” My ice-cold heart skipped an unusual beat. This was a bad idea.

  “Allard,” I said. “He will help you. But then he’ll own you in return, so I’m not sure how that’s helping.”

  “He wants the coronam,” Torrent murmured, not so much to me but to confirm something. His distant, unfocused gaze reminded me of the one I’d often give my reflection, and my treacherous human heart squeezed again. “You think he’d help me?”

  “Yeah, but… What’s the difference? You’ll still be owned.”

  His shining eyes locked on my face. “I’m already living a hell. What could be worse?”

  Did he really believe that? Was he so desperate to get away from Vanessa that joining Allard’s stock was a reasonable alternative? I’d been where he stood now, but the streets had been my death sentence. Maybe it was Allard or death for him too?

  “Alright.” I nodded. “I’ll take you to him.” That hope still shone in Torrent’s gaze, and I wondered if I’d saved him or condemned him. I wondered why the hell I cared.

  Chapter 11

  The demons were prowling the beach. From the pier, they looked like roaches scurrying across the silvery moonlit sand. The pier creaked and groaned around us as we wove with purpose through the abandoned amusement park. The Ferris wheel stood tall, its skeleton black against the star-speckled sky. Trash had caught in its trusses, and over time, the wind had whipped it to shreds. The fluttering reminded me of the prince’s burned wings. I shuddered. I hadn’t mentioned the Prince of Pride to Torrent. Oh, by the way, there’s a demon the size of a family car in the elevator and a Prince of Hell in the basement. Welcome to Fairhaven.

  Torrent hung back, a few steps behind me. He had his crossbow under his coat and carried enough power circling around him to deter any opportunistic demon that thought they could have themselves a half-blood snack. He hadn’t said much since we’d left his house. I’d warned that Allard might not let him leave Fairhaven, but he hadn’t collected any personal items and had taken on that confused look when I’d suggested it. I’d assumed the house was his, but he’d let it go without batting an eye, so perhaps I’d been wrong.

  I’d tossed a few warnings at Torrent on the walk over, and he’d absorbed them without a word. Basically, don’t do anything to irritate Allard. Make sure he didn’t let any other demon get the jump on him, and it should be enough to at least get him in the front door. Once he was in, he was on his own.

  Allard might kill him. I’d been rolling that thought around my head more and more the closer we’d gotten. And now we were here, and I’d managed to convince myself I was walking Torrent to his death.

  As we neared the hut at the end of the pier, Joseph flared to my left. He wore fire like Torrent wore his jacket. He rolled his shoulders, and his leather wings bled through his human disguise. He deliberately half changed, muddying reality and what my human brain could process. I saw demon and man. The two images blurred and combined, not quite gelling together. It was enough to make my eyes water and twist my stomach up in nerves. Joseph knew exactly how his appearances affected human minds and was using them as a deterrent.

  I lowered my right hand and spread my fingers, hoping Torrent would see, and read the gesture as an it’s okay.

  “What’s Vanessa’s pet doing here, half blood?” Joseph growled, words slurred around a demon tongue and teeth. He’d blocked my sightline to the end of the pier.

  “Get out of the way, Joseph. We have business to discuss with Allard. Connie said he’s here.”

  “You can go. Not the pet. He stays with me.” Joseph tilted his head one way and then the other, cracking his neck in an oddly human display of macho nonsense. “I can’t play with you, but he’s fair game.”

  “He’s with me.”

  Joseph snorted. Heat swelled around him, and fire licked across his wings as he spread them wide. I had little choice but to shield my face from the heat.

  “Back off, sweetheart,” Torrent said to Joseph, and I didn’t need to look to know he smiled. A dry, crackling humor laced through his words. “I have a proposition Allard is going to want to hear, and you’re in my way.”

  If Torrent was afraid of Joseph, he gave none of it away in his voice. Joseph wasn’t Vanessa, but he was a capable fire demon and not one I’d choose to mess with. I’d warned Torrent. He knew what he was doing. I hoped.

  I stepped aside and saw Torrent standing tall, hands at his sides, his stance braced—ready. If these two threw down, I couldn’t get involved. Helping Torrent would mark him as weak. My demon shifted, getting comfortable for the show.

  “You think you can best me, boy toy?” Joseph growled. He gave his wings a dramatic flick, scattering embers through the air.

  Whatever I thought of Joseph, he did have impressive wings. The bigger a demon’s wings, the bigger the egos—and other things. I smirked and skewed a raised eyebrow at Torrent. He wasn’t ruffled, not even when faced with Joseph’s display. Torrent scratched absently at his nose, glanced my way with that same cocky smirk he’d given me when he tossed the coronam in the air, and called his demon. All of it.

  His wings unfurled, arching high and wide, leathery like Joseph’s, but that’s where the similarities ended. Torrent’s wings were thundercloud gray until they weren’t. Just as I’d seen scales shimmer on his cheek when we’d fought, his wings had the same pearlescent gleam. Moonlight poured over those scales, sparking them alive like liquid fireworks. Subtle colors swirled along the smooth membranes in an oil-on-water display. He stretched them wide until their tips almost touched either side of the pier.

  Man and demon overlaid as one, Torrent readied and curled a claw-tipped finger at Joseph. “Bring it, imp.”

  These two were really going to throw down right here.

  Joseph roared. Warmth blasted over me like a desert wind. It was enough to stagger me on the spot, and for one heart-stopping moment, I thought this would be the end of Torrent and his pearly-gray wings. I’d forgotten where we stood, and so had Joseph. Torrent jerked his right hand up, lifting the water around the
pier like someone might lift a rug to flick it, which was exactly what Torrent did. He flicked his wrist—such a tiny motion for what basically resulted in a tsunami slamming over the pier.

  The flood of salty water knocked me on my ass and swept me sideways. Wooden boards whizzed by. Water gushed into my mouth, up my nose, and for a few endless moments, I couldn’t see or hear. My nail-like claws dug in, snagging me to a stop. Water washed over me, but its onslaught had faded, and it soon drained away, leaving me soaked and panting, but alive.

  Slow clapping punctuated the hiss of receding water. I snapped my head up and blinked through wet hair. Torrent had bunched his wings in tight and bowed his head, and there, standing a few strides away, was Allard. Stay submissive, Torrent.

  “That was some display, half blood.” Allard looked at Torrent the same way I’d seen him look at the more impressive catches confined to his stock, with a slow, hungry, salacious appraisal. It was a thorough gaze, one that dug deep and rooted around in your soul.

  Tearing my gaze away from Allard, I scanned the pier for Joseph, expecting retaliation, but he’d vanished, hopefully over the side of the pier. Scrambling to my feet, I flicked my wet hair out of my face and waited for Allard to make his move.

  He circled Torrent, lifting his gaze to admire the wings, leaving no inch of him unexamined. Under that gaze, a shudder trembled through Torrent’s wings. Allard noticed and smiled. “You’ve flushed my muscle into the sea.” He came to a stop in front of Torrent. He paused, waiting for Torrent to explain perhaps or considering whether his next words might be a death sentence.

  Torrent’s actions could have been construed as an attack. The fact he held himself in a submissive position probably saved his life, but it also left him vulnerable. Allard could slash his claws across the back of Torrent’s neck, and he’d never see the killing blow coming. But the look on Allard’s face—the parted lips, the keen glare—wasn’t anger. Lust shone in his dark eyes. He wanted Torrent.

  Torrent stayed quiet, kept his head low, and tucked his wings in close, their swirl of color now dull. He knew his place. I gritted my teeth, stopping them from chattering, and tried to soothe the rattle of nerves at the same time. If Allard killed Torrent, he might not stop at the death of one half blood.