I started forward. Dry sand gave under each step, dragging me down. I loosened my control, flooded my veins with demon, and let her carry away some of the pain. With her detached coolness chasing away human fears, I blinked again, clearing my vision and my head.
Shadows loitered. Demons. Lessers, mostly. They stayed back, but like me, they watched Allard carry a body into the surf.
A body? Torrent? My heart stuttered.
Was he dead? Was that why Allard was bringing him out here? The blood on the road, so much of it… I had to know. My steps quickened.
Water had helped heal him before. The sea, the surf… This had to be a good thing, didn’t it?
Splashing into the surf, I hesitated. Allard had taken Torrent further out, where the roll of the waves lapped around his waist, bellowing his jacket around him. A shadow darkened the water around them. Blood.
“Is he…?” Hissing waves carried my opened-ended question away.
Allard stopped. His shoulders tensed. The seconds ticked on, and the waves lapped higher, clawing at my clothes and shoving against my thighs. My head throbbed, my shoulder burned, and something in my chest threatened to snap at the next breath, but I wasn’t leaving. Not until I knew.
“Go back to Fairhaven.”
Torrent was dead. He had to be. Why else would Allard behave like this?
I staggered forward, pushing into the waves, and realized it wasn’t merely the warm Pacific swirling around my legs. Mingling with that watery touch was an element. As soon as I noticed, I stretched my elemental touch outward, tentatively feeling for a response. The smooth, calming swirl briefly embraced mine, and I let out a sharp, relieved sob. Alive—He’s alive!
“Don’t hurt him!” I bit off my own words, afraid I’d revealed too much, and then found I didn’t care. What did it matter anyway? Allard was too observant to miss how I’d grown to like the half blood. “It was my fault.”
“I said go!”
The sand beneath my feet shook, briefly turning to liquid. It sucked me down before Allard retrieved control and steadied the earth. He turned, showing me Torrent draped in his arms. I quickly fixed my glare on Allard’s face, not wanting to see the mangled mess of bone and flesh all over again.
“I need him.” Menace flashed in Allard’s eyes. “And you went to the police? What were you thinking?” His voice fell flat, reined back under his control. He was more dangerous like this, close to the edge. I should back off. I knew it, but that would mean leaving Torrent wounded and alone with a demon about to snap.
“I d-didn’t mean for this to happen. They knew—”
“Of course they knew! You’ve exposed your existence and my attempt to cover it up, Gamma. Go back to Fairhaven, and hope Torrent recovers before the ascension.” He paused long enough to give his next words weight. “If he dies, I’ll have no more use for you.”
The acidity in his threat stung. And there was that word again, ascension. I didn’t care what it meant or what fate Allard dangled over me. I didn’t want to leave Torrent in Allard’s arms. The demon dealer needed him. I knew that, but there was more here, something I was missing. It seemed almost as though Allard cared. But he couldn’t; demons don’t care. His control had frayed. That was all. He was as likely to punish Torrent as save him. I couldn’t walk away, leaving Torrent vulnerable.
Allard must have seen the doubt on my face. His growl bubbled deep and low, reverberating through the waves, through me. “He is perfectly safe, Gamma. Leave.”
I contemplated spilling all of my demon into me, but it would be seen as a challenge and probably tip him over the edge. Then Allard did the unthinkable. He looked away from my glare, hesitated, and turned his back on me to carry Torrent further out. He’d conceded, and in demon terms, he’d let me win, something he would never, ever do without good reason. He really wasn’t going to hurt Torrent.
Torrent’s element unraveled from mine and withdrew. I watched for a few more seconds and headed back, dragging my weary body through the water. Allard cared. My logical side—my demon—concluded Allard cared because he needed Torrent. He needed both of us. But I’d seen the look in his eyes, the need in his words. Allard was different. Maybe…maybe, impossibly, he did care for Torrent in ways that weren’t self-serving.
It didn’t matter. It didn’t change anything.
Back in my room, I retrieved the stolen injectors from my pocket, tossing a broken one away. I had two left. It had to be enough. While Allard was distracted, there wouldn’t be a better time to free the prince and bring an end to this madness before it went any further. I’d have to withstand the pain of my wounds. But once it was done, I’d pull my demon back into me and heal.
I had to free the prince now.
A few of Allard’s guards eyed me warily as I limped past them in the foyer, but they let me pass, concluding I wasn’t a threat.
The basement door swung open at my touch. Inside the stairwell, I jabbed both injectors against my inner wrist and instantly regretted it. Everything demon dissolved, and human pain rushed it. My chest, my leg, my shoulder, my head raised a cacophony of agony. I fell against the bannister and dry heaved, clinging onto the dregs of consciousness. I couldn’t pass out now, not when I was so close to stopping Allard… Allard who was saving Torrent. Demons don’t care, I told myself. And they definitely didn’t care about half bloods. But Allard...Was Allard different?
Focus. Free the prince. Stop Allard.
I clung on to the bannister, making my way carefully down each step. The glyphs meant nothing to my human body, or maybe they did, and I just didn’t feel it over the beating I’d taken.
It will be over soon.
The prince would be free. He’d stop Allard. This ascension wouldn’t happen, and I’d get my brother back. We’d go far away, just the two of us, where nobody could find or hurt us again. It had to be now. The Institute would be coming for me. “I know you.” How many escaped half blood demons could there be?
Now. The moment was now.
The basement lights rippled on. And the cage was empty.
I blinked. How? I fell exhausted against the doorframe.
The prince was gone. I dragged my beaten body right up to the cage and touched its bars. Not a single feather remained, nothing to show there had ever been a Prince of Hell inside. I tugged on the lattice door, and it opened easily. I had seen him. He was real. Wasn’t he? I sank to my knees, startled to find the tears falling into the dust were mine.
The feather.
I yanked my top down and pulled the feather free. Silky smooth, it was so black it looked like liquid with a silvery shimmer to its fine edges. Running my fingers over its impossibly light texture, I leaned my head against the cage.
He’d been here. But where in the netherworld-hell was he now?
There was nothing left. What was I supposed to do? With my demon firmly shackled by PC34A, I pulled my legs up, hugging myself in the hope the pain might go away. I knew I should leave, but the thought of climbing the stairs was enough to make the silent tears start again.
Del. I didn’t want to be alone anymore. I couldn’t do this. The Institute would be coming. They might even be right outside now. Allard had my brother restrained somewhere, keeping him locked away from me. And the one friend I’d had, I’d betrayed and almost gotten him killed twice. There had to be another way, something I could use, something I hadn’t thought of… But there wasn’t. What hope could a half blood girl possibly have?
A small whisper of a breeze touched my cheek. It swept over the tracks of my tears, cooling my skin. The prince?
I looked up, straight into Allard’s black eyes.
“Get up.” His top lip curled, hinting at the snarl underneath. Water dripped from his clothes, pattering against the dusty floor.
I needed to get away, but the necessary instructions were dulled by PC34A and pain.
He swooped in, locked his hand around my throat, and lifted me high off my feet, then slammed me against the cage. “
What have you done?”
“PC-Thirty-Four,” I slurred.
His face screwed up like he’d tasted something foul. “Heal yourself.”
“Can’t.”
“I spend too much of my time trying to keep half bloods alive.” Leaning into me, he squeezed his grip tighter until it was all I could do to drag a thread of air into my lungs. “Heal yourself. Do it now!”
He could choke me all he liked. My demon wasn’t coming, not with PC34A in my veins. Despite the rage on his face and the stone-like grip on my neck, my lips ticked up. The longer I delayed, maybe the Institute would arrive and disrupt his plans? “Can’t…kill…me,” I spluttered, “…need…me.”
His fingers closed, sealing off any chance of breathing. My chest burned, chest heaving. “This battle of ours? It ends now. Summon your demon.”
Oh, he’d like that. He’d like for me to do as he ordered. I’d spent my life following orders, and when I didn’t obey, I’d been tossed in the maze. I’d conquered the maze. I’d conquer my fear of Allard too. I sank my fingernails into his grip, trying to pry him off. It was useless, like trying to force stone to let go.
“I’ve waited centuries for this moment.” The words whirled, mixing with the throbbing flooding my mind. “Your silly naïve mistakes will not stop me. If you do not summon your demon, I’ll throw you in the ascension, where you’ll die with your brother and your half blood friend looking on. Is that what you want?” He saw fear in my eyes and relaxed his grip. “They’re waiting.”
Air poured into me. “The prince?” I wheezed.
“You and Joseph are the last.” His expression changed, becoming wicked and sly.
Power pulsed suddenly. An involuntary gasp shot from me as my back arched, pushing me against Allard where he held the coronam over my heart. I hadn’t seen him move, hadn’t known he had the stone on him. Now, it was all I could feel, all I could think about. Power. Energy. Elements. More than I could ever use, but not enough. It would never be enough. More.
He didn’t waver. His dark demon eyes barely changed. “It’s power you want. I can give it to you.” He bowed his head, brushing his cheek against mine in a demon-like gesture, and pushed the stone against my ribs. Demon sensations pulled. “You hide behind your control, but it’s power you covet. You are not submissive.” His warm lips brushed my cheek, and his whispers traveled deep, gathering low, drawing demon instincts. “What I am about to do with you, with the Court, it will be a new beginning.”
I fisted my hands in his shirt, pulling him closer when I should have been pushing him away. His demon touch rolled outward, sweeping up from my feet, wrapping around my legs and rushing deeper. I panted through clenched teeth for other reasons now, reasons that scooped up all the human pain and fear and buried them under the need to own, to fight, to command. Allard throbbed with power. His human vessel shimmered on the point of transforming, and I couldn’t hold back. Not even an overdose of PC34A could stop me from turning, not with coronam so close. Power—sweet release—and strength poured into my body. My humanity didn’t stand a chance. It fell off me like a discarded skin, and I dangled from Allard’s grip as demon.
He pushed so damn hard, the cage groaned against the pressure. His lips brushed against my neck, and a low growl resonated through him. The sound of it notched my instincts up a gear. Fight, ruck, tear him apart.
He pulled back, and his black eyes drank in the sight of me. “You want power. You always have. I’ll give you power and more, more than you can imagine.” He let go, dropping me onto my feet, then stepped back, alert and poised should I attack. “I’m offering you ascension. Are you demon enough to take it?”
I wanted to spring off my back foot and launch myself at him, teeth and claws and ice. But I recognized power, and the coronam sent out relentless waves of it, muddying my thoughts. What did I want, exactly? This felt right, didn’t it? Power. Yes. If it wasn’t for my human weakness, I could take it all, couldn’t I? Starting with Allard.
He watched me closely, waiting for my next move. I itched to tackle him, to sink my teeth into him and pin him down. His eyes promised the fight would be glorious. When it happened, one of us would die. It would be worth it.
My ice-hardened voice snapped around the empty basement. “You don’t own me, Clayton Allard.”
“I don’t need to.” He lifted his head an imperceptible amount and smiled. “We want the same things.” He stepped back—once, twice—and turned. I could have sunk my claws into his back. But he strode off, so confident in his prowess, in how his words seduced. Power. More than I could imagine.
By the time I joined him in the foyer, a growl bubbled from me with every breath. It was only his promise of more that quelled the burn for revenge.
Vanessa’s arrival froze the trail of my thoughts. She strode into Fairhaven like she belonged and tossed Joseph’s mangled demon carcass at Allard’s feet. All-demon, she was draped in a cloak of fire, her skin glowing ruby-crimson. Two uneven wing-stumps protruded from her back.
A purr of appreciation slipped free. She’d killed Joseph. I liked her.
“I want his place in your court,” she announced.
Lessers scurried about her, crawling along the walls and over the ceiling, but none dared get close.
I cocked my head, eyeing Allard. He’d been close to losing control with me, but he hardly even looked down at what remained of Joseph.
Instead, he smiled. “The seat was always yours, Vanth.”
She dipped her chin in the smallest of acknowledgements. Vanessa fell into step beside me, and we trailed behind Allard. Fire and ice. She slid a heated glance over me, while I returned an icy glare. Her element pushed against mine, and mine ate at hers, gnawing around its edges, picking off her warmth. Her eyes dropped to Allard’s fist. The coronam. She’d be feeling its pull too.
We strode through Fairhaven’s dark corridors. Creatures scurried out of sight, shying away from the wave of power the three of us invoked. My ice shifted, sighing and cracking, settling comfortably about me— until we entered a room, and I saw my brother.
He sat in a chair, staring glassy eyed at a chunk of rock on the table in front of him. No restraints, none that I could see, and he wasn’t demon like I was. He just looked like Del in the same clothes he’d worn when we’d run from the vitiosus. He hair was mussed, his face pale in the dark, but he wasn’t wounded.
Vanessa entered the room, her fiery light dancing about the walls.
The black room, I realized, trying to align my thoughts into some order. The room wasn’t like the others, and it wasn’t really black. Mirrors coated every inch of wall-space, the ceiling too. I drifted along the table, scrabbling around my demon thoughts for control, but the elements beat against me the same as the waves had on the beach, again and again, pushing deeper, teasing more threads of power free. The rocks on the table weren’t rocks. I wasn’t sure what they were, but they hummed with energy, more than I’d felt since the veil fell, since the netherworld.
I stumbled against a chair, felt water brush against my ankles: Torrent, raggedy but alive. He didn’t look up, just gazed at the rocks. It was good that he was alive, wasn’t it? I cared—that’s what that slippery human feeling was, wasn’t it?
The prince.
I reached out to steady myself. Too much power. Can’t think. And the prince. He was here, not sitting obediently at the table like the others. Chains looped around his arms, drawing him tight against the mirrored wall. His shaven head hung limp, chin against his chest. His skeletal wings were bunched and trapped behind him.
I fell into an empty chair, head spinning. I couldn’t think around or through the beat of power. The elements swelled inside the room, a heady swirl of color, flowing and weaving between us. Ascension. This was Allard’s plan. The court. I closed my eyes. Yes. I wanted this, all of it. More. More power. My wings started to build, their deceptively delicate ice-feathers sighing together. I couldn’t stop it and didn’t want to.
Yes,
I was demon enough. I always had been. The Institute made me a killer. Now Allard would make me court.
All of Allard’s promises… We really did want the same thing…
I wondered why I’d ever doubted him. Our King.
Chapter 21
The swirl of elements whipped into a frenzy. Allard—Azazel—in his white-marbled demon skin folded his wings around us, as far as the tips would stretch, and I felt as though I was home. As though I belonged. A deep, soul-bound connection with the others, the elements, and him.
The euphoria cracked.
Del had been holding back. The second he let go, chaos surged in, and the mingling of elements shattered. The storm turned into a sundering of power, and a terrible soul-consuming blackness folded the room in on itself. Chaos. I’d felt it before and knew we were lost. The delight turned to terror, and the madness tore into us. I heard screams straight from nightmares, some my own. My demon was being shredded from the inside out. Chaos would undo us all.
Would that be so bad? The human in me asked.
Allard’s earth-shattering bellow shifted what remained of reality, and abruptly, everything ended. The noise. The pain. The madness. Gone. Silence. Whiteness. Nothing. I’m dead.
Cracks snapped, heaviness creaked, and my ice sighed. Ice. All around. Encased in my element, the fear and panic melted away, leaving me rigid and defiant. Protected. I’d turned the world to ice, hadn’t I? Something had happened to trigger this, a shattering that my human mind struggled to piece back together. But I’d survived, and now ice embraced me. I was exactly where I was meant to be.
Cracks zigzagged in front of my eyes, and water trickled inside my sanctuary, shivering its way toward me. Not just water, it carried with it the tickle of a demon’s element.
“Gem!” Torrent’s voice sounded distant, in another room, another world. His element wove deeper, encircling mine, undermining my defenses until more ice cracked and fell away. Torrent’s warm hand touched my face. I shuddered, released my demon form with a gasp, and shrank back into my small human self.
Chaos Rises: A Veil World Urban Fantasy Page 18
