I narrowed my eyes at him and crossed my arms. “I want to see Stefan. Is he okay?”
He stepped back and gestured for me to leave the room. He was taller than me, stockier, with a swagger born of rigorous training. He carried the gun firmly, his grip one of confidence, as though the gun were just an extension of him. I could have lunged at him, but what good would it do me? I might have gotten out of the room, but there were other guards. This wasn’t a holiday camp. It would make more sense to gauge the lay of the land before I lashed out.
“Are you taking me to Stefan?” I asked.
“No.” He blinked, eyes disarmingly warm. “I’m taking you to Adam.”
“Who’s he?” I rubbed at my arms, desperately trying to warm myself.
“Come with me, and you’ll see.”
If I didn’t, I got the distinct impression from his military-grade stare that he’d force me. I’d already been on the receiving end of their greeting and didn’t relish the thought of repeating it. So I followed him through the rat maze of corridors, passing a few casually dressed people who didn’t give me or my armed guard a second glance. We climbed a few steps and entered a level far more conducive to comfort, like a busy office floor—no, like a hospital ward, but where you’d expect to see beds, there were desks. Dozens of people milled back and forth, chatting animatedly. Phones rang. A bubble of laughter sounded somewhere behind me. I caught glimpses of people in white coats and saw various curved, ultra-thin televisions suspended on the walls, showing what looked like newsfeeds from around the world.
We arrived at an office. The blinds were closed, so I couldn’t see in. My guard rapped on the door, and a sharp voice inside said, “Enter.” I came face to face with an older version of the man in the photograph at Stefan’s house. I tried to hide my surprise by watching the guard leave. If this man was Stefan’s father, how come he was alive and well?
Standing against a chair, my hands resting on the back, I flicked my gaze about the comfortable office space. A bookcase brimmed with books along the whole of the left wall. A couple of comfy chairs, a glass-topped coffee table, and an antique ball and claw foot desk rounded out the space.
“I apologize for the harsh treatment.” The man, who I assumed to be Adam, stood behind his desk, a steaming cup of coffee in his right hand. I smelled the blend and wondered if he’d offer me a mug. I needed it.
He pinched the bridge of his nose, dislodging his rimless glasses before taking them off and rubbing his eyes. “I wanted to thank you personally for bringing Stefan back to us.”
“Is he okay?”
He nodded slowly and replaced the glasses. “He’s fine. Exhausted, but recovering well.” He pulled out his chair and sat down, gesturing that I should do the same. When I didn’t move, he smiled. “My name is Adam.”
He could play nice. The niceties might even be genuine. He did have a warmth about him that slightly disarmed me, but I wasn’t buying whatever he was selling. “You tore my demon from me.”
“Yes. A precautionary measure. Don’t worry. We’ll give you the antidote when you leave.”
How could he appear so flippant about tearing out a part of me? “I didn’t come here to hurt anyone. I don’t even know what this place is. Ryder brought us here. Stefan’s safe… so I’d like to leave. Can I leave?”
He took a sip of coffee then leaned back. His chair creaked at the shift in weight. Brushing absently at his deep green sweater, he sucked in a deep breath before exhaling slowly. “You could, but I suspect Akil will be looking for you.”
My fingers dug into the back of the seat. “How much do you know?”
“Everything.” He brushed a hand across his stubbled chin. “You’re safer here.”
“Says you. So far, you’ve violated me and tossed me in a cell.” I didn’t like him. He appeared to be a fatherly figure, the caring type, but I stood before him with a chasm inside of me where my other half was missing, and I couldn’t forgive him that. “I don’t know you. I don’t trust you.”
“We mean you no harm,” he said, but his nonchalant tone wasn’t sincere.
“I want to see Stefan.”
“He’s resting.” He must have caught a gleam of frustration in my eyes, because he tried to soothe me with a soft smile. “Very well. You can see Stefan, and then perhaps we can have a candid discussion about the options available to you.”
I tossed him a worthless smile. Until I spoke to Stefan, I wasn’t trusting anyone.
A guard deposited me outside a numbered apartment door. As far as I was aware, we were still in the warehouse, but without any windows, and after ascending and descending so many different staircases, I’d completely lost my bearings. I knocked on the door and watched the guard get himself comfortable in a chair a few strides from me. Either they were worried I was going to do something, or I was a prisoner here. I’d yet to figure out which. Maybe it was both.
Stefan opened the door. For a few fleeting seconds, he didn’t smile, didn’t react at all. His navy blue shirt hung open, revealing the corner of a bandage plastered over his left shoulder. A spot of blood had oozed through the gauze, but otherwise, he looked remarkably well.
The smallest hint of a smile finally twitched across his lips as he stepped aside, then acknowledged the guard outside with a nod. His room was small. A bed, desk, TV, no windows. Functional, like a hotel room, but with the locks on the outside. Once Stefan had closed the door behind him, I opened my mouth to ask one of a hundred or so questions I needed answered. He pressed a finger to my lips. He shook his head and beckoned me toward the desk. On a piece of paper, he scrawled: They’re listening.
Oh crap. The frown on his face confirmed my suspicions. All was not well.
I cleared my throat and glanced around me as though I might actually see the microphones. “How come you got the guest suite and I got a prison cell?
“They don’t trust you.” He caught sight of the angry mark on my hand and must have known what it meant, because his eyes narrowed. His lips set in a terse line. “Are you all right?”
Folding my arms, I hugged them against me. “Yeah, I’m okay. Feel a bit… peculiar without my demon.”
“She’s still there; they’ve just repressed her.” He sighed then made a frustrated noise in the back of his throat. “I’m sorry.”
I shrugged. Sorry wasn’t going to bring her back. “How are you?”
“Good.” He brightened. “Thanks to you.”
“And you wanted me to leave you there.” I grinned. “After everything you’ve done for me, that wasn’t going to happen.”
He tried not to smile, then gestured at the bandage on his shoulder. “Could have been worse.”
“You’re lucky he missed. He never misses.”
“He won’t again, especially now that he believes we’re lovers.”
I snorted a laugh as though such an idea was ludicrous. Fire and ice? Impossible. I must have done a good job at dismissing the idea, because Stefan’s smile fell short before he turned away and buttoned up his shirt. “Did they introduce you to my father?”
The man in the photo. I’d been right to guess he was Stefan’s father. “Adam? Yeah…” I stopped short of telling him what I’d thought. “I was told he was dead.”
“He likes the world to think so. I often wish he was. He and I… we don’t get along…” Stefan slid a glance my way. “Ever.”
Oh. “Good, cuz I don’t like him.” I looked at the door, wondering whether the guard was still outside, then searched the generic landscape pictures on the wall and the cheap ornaments for any sign of cameras or microphones. I couldn’t see anything, but that was the point of hidden surveillance. I had so many questions burning right on the tip of my tongue, and I couldn’t ask a single one.
“Am I a prisoner here?” The weary undertone in my voice surprised me. I hadn’t realized how exhausted I was, not just physically, but mentally too. It had been one hell of a week.
“No.” But he nodded contrarily, whic
h threw me. He gave me a sheepish smile, as though he were responsible.
Clearly, there was more going on here than I had any hope of understanding on my own. “What is this place?”
“The Institute. The human response to demon occupation.”
Never heard of them. “Since when are demons occupying this realm?”
He gave a slight shake of his head, implying he couldn’t explain. Then, without a word, he took my hand and opened the door, startling the guard outside. As the guard moved to stand, Stefan waved him off. “We’re good.”
“My orders are to watch her,” the guard grumbled.
Stefan, a head taller, straightened up to him. “I said I’ve got this.”
“You can strut all you want, but I’ve got orders, and I’m following those orders, demon.”
Stefan was on him in one swift lunge. Hand twisted in the guard’s jacket, he rammed his arm under the guard’s chin and slammed him back against the wall. “Call me that again and I’ll show you exactly how demon I can be.”
My breath misted in front of me as the temperature plummeted. Stefan was calling his element, and if the guard reacted like they had with me, then Stefan was better off backing down. I lightly touched his wounded shoulder, briefly feeling the full force of his arctic glare on me before he blinked and loosened his grip on the guard.
“Fine.” Stefan backed off, striding down the hall, so I had to jog to keep up. I gathered his reaction hadn’t been personal and suspected he was as frustrated at the whole situation as I was. We walked in silence. The guard lagged behind.
Only after it felt as though we’d walked the length of the warehouse four or five times, through various corridors, passing through a cafeteria, did Stefan slow. A little out of breath, I stopped beside him, catching sight of the guard weaving his way through people loitering in the hall behind us. Stefan opened the door into what I assumed was the Institute’s library but felt more like a storeroom. Freestanding metal bookshelves created a dozen or so rows that divided up the windowless room. As we entered, the lights above flickered on, detecting our presence. We were the only two visitors, besides the guard, who followed dutifully behind us.
Stefan left me beside a bookcase. He returned to the guard and muttered a few words. They both glanced my way, sharing conspiratorial smiles. I frowned, wondering what they were up to, and then ran my finger down the spines of the books. They weren’t like any books I’d seen at the local library. Some were stained, their foreign titles barely decipherable. Some were the size of concrete blocks, great tomes that I’d struggle to lift. I recognized Latin, but couldn’t speak or read it. Another had been written in what I assumed was Cyrillic.
Stefan slipped an arm around my waist, startling a gasp from me. I twisted around to face him, surprised to find him so close. He leaned into me, backing me up against the books. “Go with it…” he whispered, seriousness on his face where I’d expected to see mischief.
The guard had dropped into a chair, facing the opposite direction while absently thumbing through a book. Stefan bowed his head. I felt the abrasive stubble of his chin brush against my cheekbone and his cool breath teasing through my hair. I could blame surprise for my racing heart, but it would’ve been a lie. I rested a hand on his lower back, then moved it awkwardly to his hip. A deep chuckle rumbled through him. He took my hand and placed it on his lower back.
“You could at least make it believable,” he whispered.
That wasn’t my problem; the wicked thoughts running through my distracted mind were. Without my demon, my element didn’t flush through my skin, but a different kind of heat had begun to pool inside me. Without realizing it, I’d blamed the demon part of me for the attraction I’d felt toward Stefan ever since he’d first walked into my workshop. I’d told myself she’d wanted the opposing power coiled inside of him, but it hadn’t been just that. Now my demon was trapped, out of reach, and yet as he stood close against me, I couldn’t think clearly through the rising thrill of desire.
“This place, the Institute, is where I trained.” Stefan’s whispered words tickled my ear. “They deliberately created me as a weapon. That’s all I’ve ever been in my father’s eyes. If you ask him, he’ll tell you I’m not his son, I’m an experiment. They’ll use anyone, exploit everything, to get what they want.”
I shivered. “What do they want?”
“They protect this side of the veil, our reality. They’re the reason there aren’t more demons on this side. They monitor all demon activity. If one steps out of line, they’re quick to dish out their idea of justice.”
I swallowed, flushed and lightheaded. “Why did Ryder bring us here?”
“Because this is the only place Akil can’t get to us. The graffiti on the walls outside—you must have seen it—creates a void. This place is a demon blind spot. No full demon can pass those symbols.” Stefan teased my hair back from my cheek. “Like you, I’ve spent much of my life trying to escape my past—this place.”
“They aren’t the Enforcers you spoke of?” I was following the conversation. Barely.
“Yes and no. The Enforcers are the soldiers on the front line. We’re trained to kill demons. Ironic, considering I’m half-demon. The irony is lost on my father.”
I could see the guard from where we stood. He’d picked up a magazine, not in the least bit interested in what we were doing.
“Why are they watching us? Why don’t they trust me?”
“You belong to a Prince of Hell. You’re powerful, volatile, and ill-informed. I’m not sure I trust you.” He pulled back just enough to look down at me.
“The feeling’s mutual.” I pressed my lips together. “At the house by the lake… for a minute there, I thought you were going to hand me back to Akil.”
He tilted his head, and a curious smile betrayed a wicked flicker of mischief. His eyes narrowed. Those eyes had a magic that held me spellbound every time I met his gaze. If an ice-demon could have a heated gaze, he had one.
I dropped my head back and closed my eyes, trying to escape his intensity without succumbing to the building urge to grab him with both hands and devour him. My world was falling apart around me, and I could do with the distraction. A distraction; yes, I could tell myself that lie. Stefan was a welcome distraction. That’s all.
“You’re trembling.”
“I’m cold,” I lied, then added with a sigh, “I want my demon back. I don’t feel… right, without her.”
“I can take your mind off her,” he said softly, “off everything.”
Opening my eyes, I found him watching me, lips slightly parted, raw hunger in his gaze. I could pull him against me and drown in desire. I glanced at the guard, who now rested his head on a propped-up hand, bored and probably dozing. Stefan turned my face toward him, his fingers trailing down my cheek to skip across my mouth. I parted my lips a little, breaths coming too quickly to hide. He knew what he was doing to me, but the smug humor had vanished. The severity in his expression only served to further enflame the hunger inside me. He leaned in, and I closed my eyes, expecting the kiss to come, but he deliberately avoided my lips and brushed his cheek against mine. I groaned, left hand clutching his shirt.
His rapid breathing tickled my neck as he bowed his head. Had my demon been present, I was sure I’d already have lost myself to desire. I felt the crawl of his element, the explorative touch of it, but it was gentle, nothing like the bold approaches of before, as though he knew I was lacking half of myself and was holding back.
The door to the library opened. Adam strode in. Just a few moments more and I’d have had Stefan against the bookcase, shirt open, and trailing kisses down his chest.
On Adam’s arrival, Stefan tensed. The growl that rumbled from him perversely further aroused my already overly sensitive body, but the desire I’d seen in him had quickly been replaced by anger.
“Stefan, you and Muse need to join me in the prep room,” Adam announced, oblivious to the moment he’d destroyed. “Now.”
>
The guard had found some enthusiasm and was on his feet, acting the part of model sentry.
I didn’t want to let Stefan go. He moved away so that I had no choice but to release him. I wanted to gather up that shirt in my fists and pull him into a kiss so hungry he wouldn’t be able to escape. Neither of us would. But that moment had been dashed. It was only when he moved away that I’d realized how much I ached to have him. My legs were weak, and it took me a few moments to find my strength.
Stefan flung a knowing glance over his shoulder, eyebrow arched. The promise to finish what we’d started rested silently on his lips.
Chapter 21
The Prep Room—or Preparation Room as the sign on the door read—appeared to be a room bristling with flat-screen TV monitors. Behind the bank of monitors, each showing a different news channel, CCTV feed, or webcam footage, sat an empty meeting table with enough places for fifteen or more people. Ryder was already in the room, leaning against the far wall, arms crossed over his chest, hands gripping his upper arms. He wore the same untucked crumpled shirt, same threadbare black jeans. He grunted a hello, back to his surly self. Tufts of unkempt hair stuck out at all angles. He made the fell-out-of-bed look all his own.
“Your man is lighting up the town,” Ryder grumbled, nodding toward the monitors.
I followed his gaze and saw several TV screens showing news footage of South Boston, or Southie as my neighbors fondly referred to it. I recognized my home neighborhood from the eclectic mix of terraced houses, cream clapboard facades, and leafy streets. The footage showed the same brownstone building on fire from different angles. Then I recognized the street, the buildings opposite bathed in firelight, the same buildings I’d woken to each morning. The blazing building was my old apartment building. My heart sank. “Were there people in there?”
“No, but it’s lost. The fire department is letting it run its course—too dangerous,” Ryder explained. “That’s your apartment building, right? One damn coincidence, Muse.”
[The Veil 01.0] Beyond the Veil Page 17
