Ties That Bind: A Muse Urban Fantasy (The Veil Series Book 5)

by Pippa Dacosta

  I fluttered my eyes closed and thought about anything else besides the press of his body against mine.

  “Do you feel it?” His hot breath seared my shoulder. He trailed a hand down my side, my hip, and spread his fingers across my stomach, pulling my body back against his. “The lust for the hunt? The ravaging need to own and claim. After your success with Wrath, you must feel the thirst for more.”

  Be demon. Be fucking demon. This is Daddy dearest, and if I’m going to convince him I’m entirely his, I must be his daughter. The daughter of lust….

  “Are you mine, daughter?” The smell of scorched flesh swirled in the air.

  “Yes.” I couldn’t say anymore. Bile choked my throat. I gagged and opened my eyes. Asmodeus struck, biting into my shoulder. I bucked, but he clasped me tight against him. My mouth tore open, but I buried the scream inside. He growled into the bite and sank his fangs in deeper.

  Get away. Get away!

  Be demon. This is demon.

  Don’t let him do this.

  It’s just a bite. Just a bite… Let the fucker get it out of his system.

  I can’t. I need to get away.

  You’ve had worse. Suck it up. Be his daughter, or he’ll never believe you.

  The slick skin of his vast chest pushed against my back and wing. Crimson wings closed around me, burying me in my father’s touch and scent. He jerked and twitched. Destroy him. Destroy him now. A switch clicked in my head. Fear and disgust shattered and fell away. Demon. I am demon. This is demon. My racing heart slowed, my breathing leveled, and I watched the bruised purple skies of the netherworld broil as my father got his demon kicks. Demon was simple.

  Demon was easy.

  Chapter 11

  “Again.”

  Pride noticed the bite mark the second he’d poofed into my chamber. His nostrils had flared, drawing my scent into him, and he’d said, “You are his.”

  I’d given him the finger. And so the lessons on how to summon the blade began all over again. I’d thought it would come, given how I’d demoned-up to survive my father’s fucked-up brand of familial love, but the blade proved as elusive as before.

  “You cannot hope to subdue Baal without the blade, half-blood.”

  I didn’t give a damn about the blade. I didn’t want to subdue Baal. I just needed Pride to sign off on my training so my father would tell me where to find the King of Hell and finally let me go. There were other ways. Pride could be bought, but I’d had enough of my share of lust to last a lifetime. Whoring myself out was a last resort, although it would be the demon thing to do. Seduce Pride, get my info, get Stefan, and get the hell away from the monsters. I had hoped I’d survive the netherworld relatively unscathed. Now I realized how foolish a hope that was. I was playing with the biggest, baddest demons who’d ever existed. They weren’t going to be bought by a half-blood’s sweet smile and smooth lies.

  “I am destruction, not half a thing. Call me half-blood again, and I’ll vaporize your vessel.”

  Pride ruffled his wings. “Again.”

  Every time I reached for the veil to summon the sword, it reminded me how Boston was just a mental swipe away. So close. Too close. My city was vulnerable, my friends in trouble, and I was failing.

  “There is fire in your soul.”

  I slid my gaze to where Pride stood beside the fireplace and had a sudden image of Akil standing the exact same way. Naked, powerful. I blinked, and the image vanished, replaced by Pride’s darker-than-night glare. “I am fire,” I grumbled.

  “I see why Asmodeus covets you. Should you stand beside him, the two of you would be unstoppable. You’d bring about the end of all things.”

  I flicked out my wing and grinned maniacally. “Happy days.”

  A knock at the door brought an abrupt end to my training session. Samien entered and froze like a rabbit caught in the pasture with no place to run. “Samien,” I hissed. Did he have the key?

  He flicked his gaze to me, but it bounced right back to Li’el, then he dropped to his knees and spouted strings of old words. I had him by the throat, my fingers choking off his words before he could say anymore, but by the fear in his eyes, I saw he’d already spilled enough.

  “Oh, that is interesting,” Pride purred.

  Damnit. “You runt.” I sneered, still choking him. “What did you say?”

  “Asmodeus has the Prince of Wrath inside the fortress walls,” Li’el recited. “A veritable half-blood reunion.”

  I swore at Samien and threw him to the floor. My expression left him in no doubt what I had planned for him. I tugged at his heat just enough to spook him. His sharp face blanched.

  “I knew, Muse,” Pride said. “I told you. I hear a great many things. I am air and everywhere.” Li’el’s teeth gleamed white against the darkness of his skin. “Samien also said he has retrieved a key.”

  Samien produced a simple iron key and held it out in a trembling hand. “I’ve done enough. Let me go, and I will not speak of this to Asmodeus.”

  “No,” I growled, snatching the key from him. “You come with me. If this key doesn’t fit, you’re in for a whole new world of pain.” Lifting my wing, I turned to Li’el. “Well? Will you drift off and tell Asmodeus that I plan to release the Prince of Wrath?” I readied my element. I’d destroyed my air elemental owner. If necessary, I’d turn Li’el’s vessel into ash. He’d already admitted he’d rather avoid my fiery touch.

  He dipped his chin and looked at me with clouded eyes. “No. If you allow me to join you.”

  Chapter 12

  I had no idea what Li’el’s game was, but I didn’t trust him as far as I could throw him. Perhaps he did just want to pick the winning side, but there had to be more to it. He didn’t need to get involved at all. He could easily sit back and watch from the sidelines. He wanted something from me. Of that, I was certain. But I had more important things to worry about. Stefan, for one. I had the key. I couldn’t waste another second getting him to safety. What if he’s still rabid? What then? I shoved that thought aside with a verbal snarl.

  “The moment you release his prisoner, Asmodeus will know,” Li’el said, impossibly quiet as he drifted ghost-like beside me.

  “I can’t leave him there a second longer. I won’t.”

  He stewed on my words for a few beats. “You care for the Winter King.”

  “His name is Stefan.”

  “You care for this Stefan?”

  “I protect those who’ve earned it.”

  We descended into the bowels of the fortress, hot on Samien’s tail. Li’el was right, of course. Asmodeus would know, and he’d look to me as the prime suspect. The best thing I could do was get the hell out of Dodge before my father suspected anything. But that wouldn’t help the veil. I had two options. Return to Boston and hole up somewhere with Stefan while he recuperated. Or strike out on my own in the netherworld and hope to find Jerry before something big and nasty found me. Boston seemed like the safest bet, but Asmodeus knew my home. He’d draw me out, probably using my friends as bait. If we ran back there, we’d buy maybe a day or two at the most. Another battle in Boston’s streets was the last thing I wanted. That left option two: on the run in the netherworld, where the wildlife consisted of blood-hungry beasts, hellhounds and all manner of lesser nasties that didn’t give a damn if my name was Destruction.

  Stefan lay against the back wall, eyes closed, breathing slowly. I puffed a sigh of relief. Much of the damage I’d done—the burns, the ash—had healed, and his glacial shimmer had returned. But two burns marred his chest. Two little half-blood handprints: the scars of my twisted talent.

  I fumbled with the key, dropped it, and stumbled over my own feet. Stefan didn’t wake. What if, when he opened his eyes, he lunged for me? What if I’d destroyed our love? What if the damage had buried it deep inside him? What if—what if—what if.

  I picked up the key and fumbled. Li’el plucked it from my hand, crouched beside Stefan, and opened the manacles. Stefan’s eyes flicker
ed but didn’t open.

  “I could transport him elsewhere,” Li’el offered.

  “No,” I growled. “I don’t know you. I don’t trust you. If you so much as glance at him wrong, I’ll chargrill your wings.”

  Li’el purred as if the idea actually appealed to him. It was more likely the threat warmed him in that soft spot he had for bloody violence. Goddamn demons.

  “I have a proposition for you, Muse,” Li’el began.

  “Not now.” I crouched in front of Stefan but couldn’t bring myself to touch him. His eyes moved beneath closed lids. Please don’t hate me. He didn’t deserve any of this. All he’d ever wanted was to be left to get on with a normal life. Demon hunter, mechanic, brother. It wasn’t fair. I reached out but didn’t touch him. The heat of my hand pushed against the ice sparkling in his hair.

  “I will take Stefan away from here.” Li’el’s voice had tightened with urgency. “You must tell Asmodeus this was my doing. He’s unlikely to pursue me. It will strengthen his belief you are his.”

  “I am his.”

  Li’el gave me a dry look through dark lashes. “And I am virtuous.”

  Ooh, sarcasm. Li’el was turning out to be something of an anomaly among demons. “You could just as easily take Stefan to Asmodeus and rat me out.”

  “Yes, I could. But I do not wish for Asmodeus to be king. Chaos and control must be restored. If Asmodeus succeeds in killing Baal, balance will never be restored. As I said, I merely want to be on the prevailing side. I saw you in battle. Your father did not. I have no doubt you are quite capable of destroying an army of demons. I do not wish to be one of those turned to dust.”

  Well, what do y’know? A demon who didn’t underestimate me. “But…the blade, the lessons…”

  “You have no intention of using the blade on Baal.”

  Damn. If Li’el had figured it out, so might my father. “But should you need the blade, call to it. It will come, or it won’t.”

  “Gee, that’s comforting.” To do this, I’d have to trust Li’el, for all intents and purposes, Satan. Trust Satan. Did he think I was born yesterday? “No.”

  “Go.” Stefan growled the word and fluttered his eyes open. He reached out and took Li’el’s offered hand without so much as a sneer. Pride hauled Stefan to his feet. He swayed and clenched his hand around Li’el’s forearm. His gaze skirted mine. I rose to a stand, but still, he wouldn’t look me in the eye.

  “Stefan, I…” All I wanted to do was take Stefan home and pretend this nightmare was over. He rolled his shoulders, and wings of ice grew slowly, each fractal building on the next. The wings—crystal clear and razor sharp—were a good sign, even if they took an age to rebuild.

  “Go,” he said again, this time with force. “I’ll be okay. I’m always okay.”

  “Wrath wants you dead.” I’d no more said the words before Samien produced a dirk and lunged. I’d like to say I hesitated, that a part of me was too human to kill, but I didn’t even blink. With unerring calm, I stepped between Samien and Stefan, knocked the dagger aside, clamped my hands around Samien’s skull and twisted, breaking his neck in one jarring twitch. From thought to execution, it took less than a second. Samien’s body crumpled to the floor at my feet. He’d have told Asmodeus everything. He’d have killed Stefan for Wrath. His death was justified. A snarl rippled across my lips. “I protect those who’ve earned it. You were not worthy.”

  Stefan’s cool element coiled around me, pulling me back from the moment. “Muse. Go.”

  “I…” I didn’t want to go without him.

  “Make this” —he gestured at the burns on his chest— “mean something.”

  Guilt sliced through me. “I didn’t want to hurt you.”

  “I know.” Stefan rolled his shoulders and winced, working out the pain from seized muscles. Li’el gripped his shoulder as he wavered on his feet. He smiled, and his face softened. “I know, Muse. It’s all right. We’ll talk. When this is over. We’ll say everything we need to say. You owe me a date, remember? No backing out.”

  He was being nice, too nice. My lip quivered. “With ice cream?”

  “Exactly.”

  “As delightful as this lovely reunion is,” Li’el drawled, “I would rather be elsewhere when Asmodeus discovers his pet is missing. Winter King, will you leave with me?”

  Stefan lifted tired eyes to the Prince of Pride and nodded.

  “Li’el, I will destroy you if anything should happen to him.” My wing arched wide—a reflex—the demon equivalent of cracking my knuckles before a fight. My threat gained more weight if one considered the dead demon at my feet. Li’el inclined his head the smallest of degrees. I slid my glare to Stefan. “Don’t do anything stupid, heroic, or typically you. Just don’t do anything until I can get to you.”

  “I’m sure I can refrain from the heroics for a while.” We looked at each other as though we should shake hands, hug, or pat one another on the shoulder. He was beaten up and hurting for sure, but the glint of mischief hadn’t left his eyes. Maybe my burst of lust really had just been a temporary state. I hoped so. I couldn’t stand it if he hated me all over again.

  Li’el cleared his throat.

  “Right.” I backed up. “I’ll find you, and soon.” I wanted to go with them. I didn’t care where. The dungeon, the fortress, my father… I wasn’t sure if I could survive it all.

  Stefan straightened, flexed his wings, and gripped Li’el’s outstretched hand. Black vapor swirled up and embraced them, and in the next moment, they were gone. A cloud of powdered dust drifted where they’d stood a heartbeat before.

  I knelt by Samien’s body and pushed fire and flame into his flesh, burning his remains to ash. I’d killed a demon with my bare hands and felt nothing. This was different than when I’d devastated hundreds on the battlefield. I’d hungered for Samien’s death. I’d wanted it. I get my wants. I wasn’t sure if I was becoming the monster my father wanted me to be or if I’d always been one.

  I made my way out of the stalls and back through the fortress, readying myself for Asmodeus’s wrath.

  Chapter 13

  I woke with my father’s hot breath searing my cheek, his hand clamped on my arm, and his demon body smothering mine. His breath hissed through his teeth, and his flesh blazed with enough heat to scorch the bed.

  I’d known this moment was coming.

  “Where is he?” Asmodeus seethed.

  “I—” the hand around my arm tightened, squeezing flesh and muscle in his fist.

  “Lie to me, and I’ll take your wing and your mind. I will bury you in fantasy so deeply you will lose all sense of yourself. I have broken minds far stronger than yours, Daughter.”

  The ghost of my brother drifted back to me in my father’s words, and fear clamped its icy grip around my heart. My element thrashed and knotted around me, eager to protect, but at the same time wanting to combine with my father’s ethereal touch. “I don’t know.” His massive wing arched over me while his huge crimson body pushed down, crushing me. Relentless waves of heat pushed down. I drew it in through my demon skin, embraced it, welcomed it. My father could snap my neck with ease. Inside, I locked my humanity away and wrapped demon thoughts around the most vulnerable parts of me. If I submitted, he’d tear into me. Mammon wouldn’t have looked twice at me had I not been the fighter he’d suspected.

  I was the Mother of Destruction. I was every demon’s nightmare. I had the Prince of Greed wrapped around my heart and a lifetime of emotional fallout to shore up my conviction. My father would not beat me. No demon would beat me down ever again. I was fire, and I was hungry. I twisted a little, enough to lift my hand and plant it on my father’s face. A touch, that’s all it took. I thrust all of my rage, my disgust, my passion, into the Crimson Lord, poured everything I had into him, wrapped it around the pulsing white hot core, sunk metaphysical claws in and tore it out. His yellow eyes bulged, and he roared. The bellow rolled over me, trembled the floors, and shook the very foundations. But I w
asn’t done. Lust: the liquid body of heat he’d threatened to ruin me with. I shoved it all at him. It wasn’t a neat, clinical attack but a ferocious assault.

  He scrambled back. His wings—thrown wide and searing hot—beat the air, summoning waves of sweltering heat, and still, I pulled his fire into me and pushed the horrible slippery lust into him. On my feet, I stalked toward my father and saw my own fury reflected in his eyes. He hunched, wings draped either side of him, and looked up at me.

  Fire traced through my extended wing membrane. I glowed from within. Flames licked and writhed about me, coiling around their queen, and oh how I wanted more.

  “I am fire. I am destruction. And I will destroy you, Father.” I reached for the veil, called to the blade, willed it into my hand, and it came. I pointed the tip to his throat. Blue elemental flame coiled its length.

  I stood tall, as once, Mammon, the Prince of Greed had told me to. The glow faded from my father’s wings; his fire was mine now. I had it all. It lived in me.

  “Daughter…” He dipped his chin. Huge shoulders bowed, wings limp, he regarded me with a look of cool acceptance. A quiver ran through my body. I was demon, I was destruction, and I reveled in that moment. My own father, a Prince of Hell, hunched before me. I wanted to sink my fangs into his neck and tear out his throat.

  I dialed down the rage and eased back on his element, allowing it to seep back into him.

  He visibly shook and sucked in, breathing heat back into his body. “You are ready. Go to Baal, draw him out, be the demon you were fated to be.”

  I laughed and gave myself a shake, raining ash around me. Oh, I’d be demon, right up until my humanity told him where to shove the princely blade, my brother’s prophetic words, and all the demons who’d ground me into the dirt over the years.

  I inclined my head. “We will stand together. Amanat.” A promise kept safe. A debt that must be returned. I was that promise, kept in safe-keeping by Akil. A Prince of Hell’s daughter. And I had returned. I wasn’t done with my father.