I jogged after him, anger flaring heat through my veins. “Hey.” He stopped, boots scuffing the dusty floor, but he didn’t turn. My breath misted, a reminder of the volatile nature of his element. It hadn’t always been that way. “I don’t deserve this.” Was that a tremor in my voice? So much for conviction.
His shoulders tensed. I found myself readying for an attack by spilling a little heat into my fingers. The temperature in the workshop plummeted. The air I breathed tingled through my clenched teeth and burned my lungs.
He turned his head, but didn’t look at me. It was more of a cursory acknowledgement. He hesitated, about to speak. Whatever he had on the tip of his tongue, he let it rest there and walked away for the second time.
“Stefan, wait...” I followed and stepped out onto the narrow backstreet, shielding my eyes from the sun’s glare. A late 60’s style Dodge Charger had been parked outside the workshop, leaving just enough room for cars to pass behind it. It had a glossy new coat. “Are you leaving for good?”
He tugged open the driver’s door. I caught a glimpse of black leather seats with red piping before he got inside and slammed the door behind him. I wanted to yank that door open and yell at him to demand he listen to me, just for a few seconds, just long enough to make him understand why I’d done the things I had. But I didn’t move. We would fight. It was clear that nothing I could say would end well.
He turned the engine over, and the throaty V8 grumbled to life. He was leaving. I might never see him again, and yet I didn’t have it in me to stop him. Maybe because he was right. I shouldn’t have brought Akil back. Never mind that I had to to free Stefan. I shouldn’t have pumped Stefan full of a drug that inhibited his demon (also done to protect him). I should have stopped my owner from killing Stefan’s sister (as though I hadn’t tried).
The car growled as he turned it around at the end of the dead-end street then cruised back to where I stood. He opened his door and climbed out enough to peer over the roof at me, expression harsh, eyes cold. “I’m sorry we met, Muse. Don’t come looking for me. It’s not safe.”
I’m sorry we met... I tried not to reveal the depth his words cut through me and shrugged a regret-laden shoulder. “Fine.” Did he hate me that much? An emotional knot tightened my throat. I clamped my mouth closed, pinching my quivering lip between my teeth.
He waited, perhaps expecting more of a fight. He was right. No words could change the past. He glanced away, looking toward the main street, the exit, his way out. The time for redemption slipped past, and he ducked back inside the car. Had he glanced at me, I might have found the courage to say something to stop him, but he hadn’t glanced back. He didn’t even say goodbye.
He gunned the engine and spun the rear tires on the Dodge before it hooked and lunged away from the workshop, away from me. At the end of the street, the tail lights blinked red, and the engine roared once more before he peeled the car into traffic and disappeared out of sight.
I trembled and blinked back brimming tears. Screw him. I didn’t need him. I didn’t need anyone. It wasn’t as though I cared about him or regularly dreamed about the cooling touch of his element easing through the blazing heat of mine. I certainly didn’t want to remember how it felt to have his protective embrace pulling me close or how my name tumbled breathlessly from his lips when we lost ourselves in one another.
With a snarl, I turned and slammed a fist into the workshop door. Pain lanced up my arm. I hissed and spat my anger until most of it had fizzled away, leaving me nursing bruised knuckles as I trudged back to my car.
Chapter Six
Stuck in traffic, I jabbed at the buttons on the radio, trying to find some music that might take my mind off the bitterness Stefan had left behind. A track with a fast beat and minimal lyrics did the trick. Drumming my fingers on the steering wheel, I squinted through the drizzle on the windshield at the red tail lights blooming ahead of me. The wipers sloshed back and forth, adding an intermittent squeak. An autumn storm hunkered over the city. The oppressive gray skies suited my mood.
My plans hadn’t changed, but if I was going to summon Akil I’d need somewhere secure and private to do it. The only place left was my apartment. Even if I did manage to summon him, I couldn’t trust his answers. Focus on the facts, I told myself. I knew someone or something had attacked Akil. It took a lot to wear him down to the point where he didn’t bother to heal himself. Or he was faking it. If I assumed everything I’d seen and heard in those few minutes he’d introduced Dawn had been true, then he’d either stolen the girl from someone who’d squared up to him, or he’d been more interested in protecting Dawn than himself. My instincts told me he was protecting her, but my instincts were all screwed up when it came to Akil.
I grumbled a frustrated noise and jabbed at the radio again.
I knew Carol-Anne and Akil had been having something of a civilized conversation, enough to warrant a glass of wine together. She’d kicked off her shoes, so things had gotten cozy. They’d moved the party to the bedroom and made it as far as the bed, if the drenched sheets were any indication. But something had gone wrong—at least for Carol-Anne. They’d fought... Mm, that didn’t ring true. Carol-Anne was formidable, but she wasn’t in the same league as Akil. She shouldn’t have been able to rough him up. I’d seen him slam her down on The Voodoo Lounge bar without so much as dislodging an immaculate hair. But they had fought in his apartment. The scorch marks and sodden floors testified to that. So Akil kills Carol-Anne, and then shows up at my place with a little girl who just happens to be a half blood? Had Dawn been with them the whole time? Or had Akil collected her after killing Carol-Anne? And what did he expect me to do with her that he couldn’t already do himself? He had access to resources on both sides of the veil, whereas I only had my wit and penchant for trouble. I was missing something.
The traffic inched forward. My windshield wipers squeaked. I eased my rental car into motion, rolling closer to the car in front of me. Leaning away from the door, I tried to get a better view of what caused the jam. The side window exploded inward. Shattered glass dashed my face and pummeled my clothes. I let out a startled squeal as a clawed hand the size of my head reached in and made a grab for my arm. I lunged away, twisted in the seat, and angled myself so I could shove off the door and shimmy backward into the passenger seat. The thick arm plunged inside the car again. A purely demon growl bubbled up my throat. I kicked out, striking the hand with the heel of my boot. It recoiled and then struck again, snatching knobby fingers around my ankle and yanking me toward the window.
The gearshift dug into my lower back, twisting me awkwardly, grinding against my spine. I spat a curse and kicked the hand with my free foot. The demon made a wet snarling sound, something like a bathtub full of water gurgling down a drain, and then drove his gnarled face through the window. He grinned, his gaping mouth too large for his misshapen pug-face. The passenger door wrenched open. A cool breeze wafted over my face, dashing my hot cheeks with rain. Briefly, my mind registered the rain tasted salty, then a dry, pitted arm hooked around my neck—skin rough like tree bark—and hauled me backward out the car. My leg slipped from the boot the pug-faced demon had hold of. I had a moment of weightlessness, right before my new assailant slammed me down on the hood of a car. My head thumped against metal. My teeth jarred. A net of white noise cascaded in front of my vision. Unconsciousness loomed. I blinked and tried to refocus, but the vast bulk of the rough-skinned demon blotted out the daylight. He pinned me beneath one branch-like forearm and leaned all of his weight into my chest. My ribs compressed. I tried to heave him off me, but my puny human hands barely closed around the girth of his muscles.
“Bears-the-flood,” he growled around yellow teeth.
“Huh?” I grunted.
“Where half blood?” Clearly this demon didn’t have much need to polish his human speech. He was probably fresh from the netherworld.
Screw this. I met his flat eyes and blazed heat through my limbs. My demon woke, her awareness
fixed as sharp as lasers on our attacker. “You’d better hope you just look like you’re made of wood...”
I inhaled, drawing in heat. Woody must have sensed me soaking up the elemental energy. He straightened, easing off my chest, and eyed me curiously. He’d underestimated me. One of these days, the demons would stop making that mistake, then I’d be screwed. But not today. I grabbed my gun, flicked the safety off, aimed, and fired in the time it took Woody to blink. A hole punched through his cheek, cricking his head back. He growled, and swung his stare back to me. I fired again. The gun jumped, and the round smacked into its chest. Another shot. He staggered back, arms flailing, eyes wild. Considering I’d just planted three bullets in his head and chest, he didn’t seem all that concerned.
I fired once more for luck. He bumped back against my rental car and let out a roar that barreled down the jam-packed street. Bullets clearly did little more than piss him off. I lifted my free hand and coiled a thread of energy around my fingers. A smile hooked into my lips. A trickle of glee shivered through me, further arousing my demon-half. I flung a bolt of heat at Woody’s chest. Fire blanched over him on impact. He wailed like a banshee and ran, slamming into stationary cars and ricocheting off moving ones. My smile died as I saw a member of the public using his cellphone to film the entire screw-up from inside his car. Dammit, Adam would be on my back again.
The remaining pug-faced demon sprang onto the top of my car, denting the roof as he landed on all fours and bellowed a roar loud enough to rattle the car windows. He looked a lot like a gorilla, if they came hairless, sporting forked tongues and blood-soaked eyes. He lifted my boot, waggled it, and launched it at my head with surprising accuracy.
I ducked, swept my left hand in a tight circle, and coiled energy around me. Fire burst into existence, gathered up my arm, and enclosed my hand. I aimed the gun in my right hand, figuring I might as well hit pug-face with all I had. The occupants of the car I was sprawled on gawked through their windshield. At least they weren’t filming. I winked, the trickle of glee swelling into something more akin to lust for the hunt.
Pug-face sprang. I lashed out, casting a line of liquid heat, thrusting behind it a rush of energy that slammed into the demon mid-leap. The gunshot cracked the air. The demon lit up like a bonfire and jerked as the bullet punched through his gut. Pug-face landed hard against the side of the car, jolting me and the passengers, then dropped with a dull thud against the road.
Sliding off the hood, I counted two flaming demons sprawled on the road. Black smoke churned skyward. Several onlookers had left their vehicles, but none ventured too close, not while the fires still blazed. I shook off the tingling excitement, retrieved my boot, and made a quick exit. There was only so much damage control I could do, and no amount of bull crap about escaped animals from the zoo was going to mask my very public display of power.
* * *
It didn’t take long to reach Southie on foot. I hadn’t been far away when the demons had attacked. In all likelihood, whoever pulled their strings had been watching the main routes around the last known location of their hunters. Whoever it was, they obviously suspected Dawn was in my care. Maybe someone who knew I was connected to Akil?
I walked around the block a few times and took a few random shortcuts, checking over my shoulder for tails. Demons didn’t do subtle. They stood out in a crowd simply by trying too hard to be human. They moved with a fluid grace, each step, each gesture, weighed and measured. They stalked like predators fixed on their prey. I wasn’t being followed.
By the time I reached my apartment building, my soaked clothes stuck to me, and my hair clung to my face. My back and head ached, muscles tightening as bruises bloomed. Being half demon didn’t make me any less squishy. When my demon rode me, I was tough, my human skin and clothes, protected beneath her otherworldly armor of elemental energy. But that’s only when I was powered-up. Otherwise, I was just as fragile as everyone else. It was a trait my old owner had enjoyed exploiting. That same owner now pulsed inside me.
I jogged up the steps in my apartment building to my floor and dug into my pocket for my keys.
“Hey, Firecracker.”
My stride faltered. Ryder leaned against the wall outside my apartment, looking every inch the returning tomcat. He chewed on a tooth pick, thumbs tucked into his cargo pants pockets. The black shirt might have looked smart on anyone else, but he’d somehow managed to crease it so the cotton resembled crepe paper. Even the creases had creases. He’d grown his hair out since I’d last seen him. Mocha locks scuffed his old-soul-eyes and curled around his stubble-dashed cheeks. He looked older than his mid-thirties, due in part to life’s assault on him. I’d never asked about his past, and he didn’t ask about mine, but I had eyes, I’d seen a story on his face, and I‘d listened when he thought I wasn’t.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I unlocked my apartment door.
“Nice to see you too.”
“They’re watching.” I grumbled, shoving open the door and suggesting he enter with a short hand gesture.
“When aren’t they?” He sauntered inside. His shirt bunched around a concealed gun at the small of his back, and I wondered if he was here on business. Ryder looked like something the cat dragged in, but he’d been one of the best Enforcers Boston had until he’d vanished with Stefan.
Closing the door, I tossed my keys on the kitchen counter top. The TV was on. An empty bowl and plate sat on the couch. I checked the bedroom and found Dawn sitting below the window, teasing Jonesy with a thread of cotton. She looked up and acknowledged me with a tight smile. My cat didn’t acknowledge my presence, his allegiance decided.
When I turned around, Ryder stood behind me, eyebrow arched. He plucked the toothpick free and pointed it at Dawn. “Whose kid is she?”
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out.” I eased the door closed and returned to the kitchen to fix myself a coffee. Thick. Black. With a mountain of sugar.
“You look like crap, Muse.”
I could trust Ryder not to mince his words. “Thanks.” I grabbed two mugs and clattered about my little kitchen. I liked to take my frustrations out on inanimate objects.
“You have blood on your cheek.”
I swiped at my face. Ryder mirrored me, indicating I should aim higher. “You shouldn’t be here.” I peered into the shiny kettle at my reflection, spotted a splatter of demon blood below my eye, licked my thumb, and wiped it off. “If the Institute see you—if they think you’re here...” I shook my head. “I’ve got enough to deal with right now. Speaking of which...” The water in the kettle simmered. Leaning back against the counter, I swept my damp hair off my cheeks. “Is there such as thing as salty rain?”
He managed to simultaneously frown and smile. “How the fuck should I know? Do I look like a weatherman?”
An unexpected pang of loneliness assaulted me before I could chase it away. Damn, I’d missed his surly no-bullshit stance on life. “Dammit, Ryder. Where have you been?”
His slid his gaze away and moseyed around my apartment. “Nice place.” It didn’t take long before he noticed something on the floor. He crouched down and scratched at the wood grain. Rising, he cleaned the substance from beneath his nail and flicked his gaze back to me. “Make a habit of inviting demons over?”
“Yeah, actually. Wednesdays are movie nights. They bring the snacks.” His lopsided grin drew the slither of a smile across my lips. “Ryder, I could have done with you around.” I hadn’t realized how much he’d meant to me until he’d pulled the vanishing act. Ryder was still technically my handler, and mentor. While he’d reported my progress to the Institute, he’d also taught me how to shoot, where to aim on various demons, and how many f-words you could ram into a single sentence. Since the only other teacher I’d had was Akil, Ryder’s no-holds-barred method of teaching had been… enlightening.
He pretended to admire the framed symbols on my walls. “Nah, you’re fine. You don’t need me. Never did.”
; I dropped my gaze. He didn’t know about my former owner caged inside me. I could never tell him. His loyalties lay with the Institute, and the fact I was compromised wasn’t something I wanted Adam knowing. “Are you staying?”
“Can’t.”
I swallowed an unexpected sadness. When had I become so lonely? “It’s Stefan, isn’t it?”
Ryder drew in a breath and winced before meeting my gaze. “He ain’t doin’ so good.”
I’d gathered that when he’d turned his workshop into a walk-in freezer. I clenched my jaw and clamped my hands against the edge of the counter top. “When are you leaving?”
“Tonight.” He scratched his chin with his thumb, frowning. “Are you in some kinda trouble?”
“Not yet.”
He glanced at my closed bedroom door. Dawn’s giggles bubbled from behind it. “Shit, Muse. Is Akil still sniffing around?”
“Actually, no. He’s MIA.”
Ryder’s expression darkened as it always did when Akil’s name came up. “Tell me what’s goin’ on.”
I told him everything that had happened since Akil had appeared with Dawn. He listened, making the obligatory noises when I mentioned Akil. By the time I’d finished, the frown on his face had turned disapproving. “Don’t trust her.”
“Dawn?” I scowled. “She’s just a little girl.”
“A little girl dumped on your door by a Prince of Hell. Whatever he did to get her, it weren’t pretty if he was cut up.”
I bit back my denial. Ryder was right. As much as I wanted to believe Akil had left her with me for good reasons, there was no denying his absence was suspicious. “She’s a half blood, like me.”
Ryder nodded. “All the more reason to stay clear. You’ve been through enough. You don’t need to deal with Akil’s baggage. Hand her over to the Institute.”
Darkest Before Dawn: A Muse Urban Fantasy (The Veil Series Book 3) Page 4
