Mammon’s onyx lips rippled in a snarl. I tried to pull back, but his huge claw-tipped hands sealed around my forearms.
Don’t...
I warned him, not needing to speak the words for him to hear them. He laughed. His sharp teeth glistened. He yanked me closer. My world shrank into his eyes. The dark in there knew me. It hungered and drew me down. I managed to jerk away, but his grip tightened.
With a curl of my lip, I sealed the veil shut and abruptly severed the rush of power he fed from. The withdrawal of power hit him like a slap in the face. His features twisted into a bitter mask of disgust. I’d deprived him of power, an almost endless supply of fire and heat. The Prince of Greed wasn’t pleased.
Neither was I. He wasn’t going to let me go, but I’d done enough cowering at the feet of demons who thought themselves better than me. I leaned into him. My gaze burned into his. I kicked my leg over his waist to straddle him, and with my hands still planted on his chest, I began to draw my power out of him. We must have looked quite the sight. Compared to him, I was a tiny insignificant thing: a pitiful half-blood. But I wasn’t afraid of him. Not anymore.
The swell of power filled me up, bolstered my defenses, and shored up my strength. Mammon had been here before. He knew I was capable of draining every last drop. I could draw all of his princely power right out of his body and take it into my tiny insignificant demon self. I’d done it before, and I could do it again. I wanted to do it again. I grinned.
His black eyes widened. His nostrils flared.
He flung me aside with a sweep of his arm. I felt the rush of wind and instinctively landed in a crouch, one hand steadying me against the ground while the other clung onto the thread of power that sucked my element back out of him.
“Muse...” His grumbling inhuman voice summoned my wicked laughter.
“You don’t own me, Mammon.” I rose up and snapped the tendril of power between us, severing my link to him. “Nobody owns me.” I leered at him, knowing full well I had won this fight.
He stamped back a few steps and shook his behemoth body, giving his vast wings a few token sweeps before clamping them closed and pulling his true form back into his human vessel. I watched with demon eyes as the whip-like tendrils wove together to form a reborn Akil. He’d lost the lines around his eyes and had gained a gilded glow in those infinitely dark irises. His bloodied and torn clothes had undergone a similarly dramatic transformation. His crisp white shirt hung open. All traces of blood on his chest had gone. The wounds and bruises, which had marred his bronze skin, had vanished, as though they’d never existed. He was once more the epitome of seduction, all clean-cut lines, proud shoulders, raw masculinity, and curious knowing smiles.
He strode toward me. An aura of energy radiated around him. The ground sizzled beneath each step. Hunger burned in his eyes and tugged a crooked smile across his lips. A fluttering in my chest shortened my breaths. I knew what he wanted. Need burned fiercely in his eyes. Akil and I shared the same element, the same thirst for raw power. Born of fire, he and I were too alike to deny the desire raging through us.
He was on me, around me, in me. When I gasped in surprise, I breathed his power into my lungs where it bloomed through my chest. His lips smothered mine. His hand clamped the back of my head and pulled me into a frantic kiss. All demon—human doubts and fears locked away—I fell into that kiss with no hope of escaping. My demon wanted him on a primal level. I molded my body against the steel hardness of his. I dragged him closer, tighter, as though I could crawl inside his skin. Our elements entwined and laced together until I could no longer fathom where my element began and his ended.
I rode my hands up his lean arms and dug my fingers into his muscular shoulders. The fabric of his shirt denied me access to his skin. I needed to feel the warmth of his delectable flesh beneath my touch, to soak him into my pores. I growled my frustrations. He made a deep sound in his throat, somewhere between a growl and a groan. I shivered. I slipped my fingers into his hair and pulled his mouth to mine. He tasted of things forbidden, of sweetness and spices that danced on my tongue. I nipped at his lips. His ragged breathing matched mine. His unyielding body writhed with me. I could gorge myself on Akil. Let him fill me up until I could take no more.
He backed me against a tree and growled something in a language I didn’t recognize. They were old words, words with power and weight. I quivered with raging desire. The seeking touch of his element threaded through me, as if seeking my darkest desires. I felt the electric thread of power probing, fingering, exploring. I faltered, blinked. Pain splintered in my chest. He clasped my face in his hands and held me firm. The pain melted away. The embers in his eyes swirled like a firestorm. Pinpricks of red danced against an endless black. I tore his shirt open and roamed my hands over his shoulders and down the sculpted curve of his back. His exquisite power teased up my arms, flowed through me, and pooled wet between my legs. Words tumbled from my lips, demands that needed to be met. I pulled him hard against me. My racing breaths snagged. I felt his ready hardness. He growled, said something foreign and maddening, and I mashed my mouth to his. I tasted, teased, drove my tongue in, and devoured him.
When the pain twitched in my chest again, I gasped and fell back from Akil’s heat-saturated touch. I pressed my hand against my chest, where the driving pain pierced me. Incoherent thoughts vied with the madness of lust. I slumped forward against Akil. His arm slipped around my waist and a hand gripped my shoulder. He spoke a string of words into my ear, barely pausing to breathe, and with each beat the pain hammered harder.
“Stop...” I gasped.
“It has to be this way.” His hurried breaths touched my cheek, cooling flushed skin.
No. What was he doing to me? I couldn’t think clearly. My head filled with fears, needs and desires. I ached for his touch. I wanted to feel all of him around me, inside me, but an icy slither of fear had worked its way into my thoughts. He whispered indecipherable words into my ear. His hand splayed across my hip and dove lower. His warm fingers found the heat pooled between my legs. The pain and fear subsided. Hunger once again smothered my doubts.
Something he said, one of the weighted words, hooked into me. A twitch of energy danced down my spine, jolting my head back. I’d heard the word before. Damien had spoken it to me the night he’d made sure I knew who my owner was. The night he’d torn into my mind and flesh and soul-locked me. I could see him now, hear those words on his lips, feel his slick touch kneading my simmering flesh. As he’d driven himself into me over and over, pounding my flesh and my soul, he’d growled out those same words. I didn’t know what they were, but I knew what they meant. It didn’t matter that Akil whispered them into my ear and made the words sound like promises. It was still an invasion.
I planted both hands on Akil’s chest and shoved him back. He staggered a few steps away from me, passion ablaze in his eyes. “Muse, let me do this...”
“No.” The snarl that followed was a warning. Our gazes met, both of us aflame, ridden by desires we could barely control. He had a frenzied look in his eyes. He panted hard, then clamped his mouth closed and breathed hard through his nose. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, and for a moment, I thought he was going to ignore my rebuttal and carry on regardless of my denial.
I trembled from head to toe. My wing quivered, and my body tingled. My mind swam with the memories of Damien’s touch. Nothing dampens desire faster than disgust.
“It has to be this way,” he said between breaths, “to undo his hold. You must let me in.” He moved a step closer but froze as he saw me recoil. His lips turned down. He closed his eyes and sucked in a deep quivering breath. It was an attempt to regain control. When he opened his eyes, the embers had gone. I wanted to believe him, but how could I? I’d let him in once before—invited him—and he’d screwed me every which way.
I leaned back against the tree. The bark hissed beneath the touch of my superheated flesh. Even as demon, I couldn’t fight the memories of Damien. He had invaded my body, sunk his poisoned tendrils into my heart, and planted his seed. The violation burned like acid in my gut. I couldn’t let Akil do the same, and I couldn’t explain it to a demon—a Prince of Hell. He wouldn’t understand.
Akil tensed. He wanted to move closer. I saw the battle raging between his body and mind. The Prince of Greed wasn’t used to being denied.
I summoned an animalistic growl from the pool of rage gathering at my core. “Do not touch me. If you take one goddamn step closer, I’ll empty your body of heat so fuckin’ fast you won’t be able to light a match for weeks.”
To make matters worse, he actually looked confused and wounded by my brush-off. “I can help you.” He scowled, as though this was my fault, and I was merely being stubborn.
I shook my head, words locked behind gritted teeth. He could help me, of that I was certain, but he could also tear out what remained of my tattered soul. I didn’t trust him enough to let him in. I’d never trust him like that again. I might have brought him across the veil, but I did that to free Stefan. I might have saved him from the demon equivalent of death and recharged his batteries by doing so, but that didn’t mean I would let him get close to me. I needed him to do this for me, but not yet. I hadn’t realized it, but I wasn’t ready to let Akil, or anyone, inside.
“I haven’t forgotten what you are, Akil.” Slowly, carefully, my demon withdrew from my flesh, slinking off into my subconscious now that her desires weren’t likely to be sated. Once the blackened armor of her skin fizzled away, I stood against the tree, human once more, clad in ill-fitting clothes, beyond exhausted.
Akil glared at me. He’d stopped trembling, but a medley of anger and confusion played across his face. “Are you content to let Damien control you for the rest of your life?”
My lips turned down in a grimace. Akil didn’t get it, but what was I expecting? He was as demon as they get, a creature of needs and desires. He wouldn’t understand why I couldn’t let him touch me. “I’m not ready.”
“You can get over it when you’re free of him,” he snarled.
I would have laughed if I’d had the energy. He was right of course, if this was all about the practical, but the fears inside my head weren’t reasonable. I couldn’t simply pack the pain away for another day.
He glanced back at the house, as though something had drawn his attention. Whatever it was, it didn’t last. When his gaze found me again, those damned hazel eyes were laden with sadness. “I do not understand.”
Those four words cut to the very heart of my pain. I squeezed my eyes closed and fought back the tears of frustration and anger because I didn’t want him to see how much this—his understanding—mattered to me. Why couldn’t he listen to my words, or see what was happening to me? Why did he not realize what it meant to be broken so badly that nothing might fix me again? Dammit, I wanted him to fix me, and the worst part of it was, he could—but I couldn’t.
Akil moved away. I watched him walk back toward the path. Tears skipped down my cheeks. He turned, looked me over for a few seconds, and then smiled. “I pity any man, demon or otherwise, foolish enough to believe he owns you.”
He left me then, alone with my fear and disgust. I listened to the breeze sighing through the trees, and my thoughts gradually calmed. I hadn’t stopped fighting since Damien had dragged me back across the veil. I’d been battling my fears from that day to this one. If I stopped now, I was afraid I might collapse in a heap of emotional wreckage. If I wanted Damien out of my life for good, then I had to let Akil in. It was fact. My choices were Akil or another Prince of Hell, but that wasn’t going to happen. As the Princes went, Akil appeared to be one of the more amicable ones. To move forward, I needed to let go of the fear. How? How was I meant to ignore what Akil was, what he’d done, what he could still do? He’d used me before. There was nothing to stop him from doing it again. He wasn’t a man. He didn’t regret. He wasn’t sorry. He’d screw me and throw me away just as Damien had.
I tried to wipe the tears away, but more took their place.
I wasn’t escaping Damien. If Akil was my only option, it wasn’t an option at all. There was no hope of freedom for me. No cure for what Damien had done.
I couldn’t think like that. If I lost all hope, I was afraid of what I might do. When I was a tiny young thing in a world that wanted me dead, I had hope. I hadn’t even known what hope was, but I’d had it in spades. I’d dreamed of a day I’d be free. It’s what kept me alive. Akil had once provided an illusion of freedom. I had to believe true freedom was out there: the freedom to make my own choices, the freedom to walk my own path without others trying to steer me toward their desires. I had hope, and when it all boiled down to nothing, hope was all I had.
I dried my face with my sleeve and trudged back to the lake house. I needed to focus on what I
could
do, and that was helping Stefan. Nica would be able to watch him. She’d want to know he was alive, and she would know what to do. Besides, Nica was the closest thing to a friend I had. Her brother was back. Everything was going to be okay.
Maybe.
T
he lake house
was quiet on my return, as quiet as an old house could be. The floorboards groaned, and the stairs creaked. With no sign of Akil, I took the opportunity to finally shower and wash off the burned rubber smell of the netherworld. My human exterior had fared pretty well on the other side of the veil, thanks mostly to the protection afforded by my demon. I barely had a scratch to show for my ordeal. She couldn’t protect my mind though. In that department, we were sorely in need of help.
Dressing in some jeans and a snug-fitting, sleeveless top left from my last visit to the lake house, I towel dried my hair and headed back downstairs. The sight that greeted me in the lounge stopped me in my tracks. Stefan sat in the couch closest to the stairs with his back to me and an arm draped over the cushions. He didn’t turn, so couldn’t see the shock on my face, but Akil noticed. He leaned against the wall beside the front door, arms crossed. His gaze flicked from Stefan, to me and then drifted toward the kitchen from where the majority of the light pooled into the lounge. He appeared to be bored. I knew better. He leaned close to the door, knowing he might need a quick escape route. And he stayed standing, to save precious seconds should Stefan lose his cool.
Electric tension sizzled in the air. The last time they’d stood in this room together, Stefan had emptied a clip of .50 caliber bullets into Akil’s chest. For them, it had been years ago. I was sure they’d collected a few more mental souvenirs from their time in the netherworld. Akil’s lackadaisical expression didn’t mask the simmer of power radiating around him. The symbols on the wall prevented him from calling his element, but it broiled just below the surface. Stefan, of course, couldn’t do anything remotely demonic, not with PC34 in his veins. I was almost afraid to move around the couch and look him in the eyes—afraid of the expression I might find on his face.
Stepping lightly, I moved around the couch and kept my gaze on Stefan. He’d dressed in black jeans and dark blue V-neck sweater over a pale blue shirt. His platinum blonde hair hung loose in damp tendrils, wet from the shower. Like me, he would have wanted to wash off the netherworld. Perhaps it helped him feel half way to human again.
When his eyes met mine, I froze. His lips twitched, hinting at a smile. I could breathe. He didn’t look furious. He just looked like Stefan: the same relaxed posture, same crooked smile, the same Stefan I’d seen while reading the metal in his workshop and scrounging for memories that weren’t mine. A day hadn’t gone by when I hadn’t thought of him. I had so much to say, so much to apologize for, but now he was here, and I couldn’t remember any of it.
“Demon got your tongue, Muse?” His voice held a serrated edge, as though he’d not slept in weeks. It would take a few days to kick the guttural demon brogue.
Something cool and sinister prickled the back of my neck, but in a blink, it was gone. He looked right at me—into me—and those crystalline eyes pinned my runaway thoughts to the back of my skull. I couldn’t find my words. I didn’t know where to start.
“You’re okay.” Not such a slick comeback, but at least I managed actual words.
His fingers tapped a few beats on the cushions. He looked away. “I will be.” Those words sounded simple, but his eyes hardened, and his fingers curled into a fist.
I stole a glance at Akil. He hitched an eyebrow, indicating he’d caught the tone of Stefan’s words, but otherwise he was staying out of this.
“Stefan...” I licked my lips and moved to sit on the edge of the coffee table in front of him. The presence of Akil behind me warmed my back like an open fireplace. I tried to ignore it, and focused on Stefan. He half-smiled, but his brittle eyes belied that easy smile. “I’m sorry,” I said softly. “I had to...”
“I know.” He leaned forward as though he might reach for my hand. I balked and shifted back. His touch had once ignited a pins-and-needles dance of power beneath my skin. I didn’t want it…, not then. Too much chaos already flirted with madness in my mind.
Stefan’s face tightened, touched by a frown, before he smiled too brightly and leaned back.
I looked down at my hands in my lap. “I didn’t want to hurt you.”
“It’s done.” His cool gaze focused over my shoulder at Akil. Before I could glean much from Stefan’s expression, he locked it down behind a frozen mask of indifference. What had transpired in the dead forest? I knew there was no love lost between them. They’d both played each other in an attempt to save the ones they loved, and that was before they’d been trapped on the wrong side of the veil together.
“Muse has been soul-locked,” Akil said flatly, evidently deciding to cheer us all up with hard facts. I glowered over my shoulder at him. He barely noticed me, and only had eyes for Stefan. “So perhaps we can put our differences aside until her owner is dealt with.”
A muscle jumped in Stefan’s jaw. He returned his gaze to me. “I thought you killed your owner?” He sat too still, wound up so damn tight he could snap any second. I almost wanted him to explode and launch at me with the accusations I deserved. It might diffuse some of the tension suffocating me.
I sighed and got to my feet. “I thought so too. I burned him—before. I thought it was enough, he’s not all that powerful, but we didn’t hang around long enough to ‘
poke him in the eye
.’”
Stefan’s smile vanished. He tilted his head and eyed me curiously, no doubt wondering from where I’d gleaned that fragment of his past. He bounced his attention from me to Akil. “How did you let her owner soul-lock her?”
So he knew what a soul-lock was. No surprise, Stefan was twice the Enforcer I’d ever be. He made catching and killing demons look like a walk in the park. “It’s complicated.” I halted Akil before the two of them could lock verbal horns. “It happened. That’s all that matters, and he’ll be coming for me.”
I told Stefan what I could and filled in the most recent events, deliberately skipping over those I found most painful. He could fill in the blanks himself. He stayed quiet as I went through my meeting with Yukki Onna and how she’d helped me. If she meant anything to him, he hid it all behind cold eyes. As I explained how I’d annihilated a crowd of demons, he bowed his head and ran his hands through his hair. By the end of my tale, where Akil had decoyed the Institute to save Stefan’s ass, Stefan was on his feet and pacing the room.
“I have to get back to the Institute.”
“No,” Akil and I replied together.
Stefan stopped and frowned at us. “This is out of control. Forget the part, Muse, where you brought a Prince of Hell back to our world for dubious reasons.” I tensed, but he didn’t let me draw breath to defend my actions. “Someone is communicating with Damien, giving him the names and locations of Enforcers. That information is only available to a handful of people.”
“It wasn’t you?” I asked.
He cut me a scowl so hard I flinched. “When you found me, did I look as though I was on friendly terms with a demon, any demon?”
My memory plucked a random image of him, all bristling ice behind his fortified cave entrance. “Well, no...but—“
“Did you think I’d been trading stories around the campfire?” Okay, sarcasm. He was getting angry.
“Well, no, I didn’t think you’d give up information willingly. I thought maybe they’d...” I trailed off as his glare intensified to looks-could-kill territory.
“If Damien can’t find you Muse,” Stefan gestured at the symbols adorning the walls, “he’s going to go searching for those he knows are close to you. Who’s next in line?”
I didn’t hesitate. “Ryder.” Ryder knew me better than anyone. It was his job. If Damien wanted information on me, outside of the Institute, he’d find Ryder. Ryder was a tough bastard, but the chances of him going toe-to-toe with a psychotic Damien and surviving were slim.
Stefan closed his eyes and took a few steadying breaths. “Then Damien will hit the Institute.”
“Why?” I asked. No demon would be foolish enough to strike at the heart of the Institute. Even if they could get through the protective symbols, it would be suicide.
Stefan opened his eyes. “Because Ryder won’t talk. He’d die before he told a demon anything. Damien’s only option is to go back to whoever’s feeding him the information. Someone on the inside.”
“But who?” Stefan’s words came back to me. Only a handful of people had access to the information. Oh my god. Adam. Did Adam hate me that much? “Stefan... Do you think Adam would do this?”
He sunk a trembling hand into his hair. “I don’t know. He’s capable. He’ll do anything if it benefits the Institute. You can rely on him for that, if nothing else.”
But why? Why would Adam go to the trouble of employing and training me only to release Damien? Adam was ruthless to the core, but would he employ a full-demon to get what he wanted? Surely not if it endangered his precious Institute. Maybe his intentions had started out good, and then Damien had slipped his leash. Demons had a knack for twisting circumstances to suit themselves.
Akil had been remarkably quiet through all of this. I looked at him now. He appeared to absorb the quiet, as though savoring my anticipation. I was looking to him for answers, and by the gleam in his eye, he liked that feeling.
He moistened his lips and straightened his cuffs. “It would seem you have a dilemma.”
Stefan made a sound like a restrained growl, and the waning tension snapped back into the room, charging the air with static energy. Had I not been there, I was certain they would have tried to kill each other. At least they had that in common. “What would you suggest?”
“Muse, you can’t trust him.” Stefan bit off his own sentence, as I threw his look-that-could-kill right back at him.
“Split up,” Akil suggested. “Stefan, stay away from the Institute. Given their extreme prejudice against poorly controlled demons, I’d hazard a guess they’d lock you away the moment you stepped across their threshold. Your talents —and mine—would be better spent helping this Ryder. Muse, return to the Institute. Warn them. You’re fresh from the netherworld, so they’re more likely to believe a warning coming from you. Be careful though. They’re just as likely to lock you up.”
I nodded. “He’s right.” And caught Stefan’s glare of disgust.
“Taking orders from him now? He’s a liar and a murderer, but if you want to go ahead and believe his lies again then sure, why not? It’s not like I gave up years of my life to keep that son-of-a-bitch away from you.”
His sharp words cut my thoughts off in one ruthless pass. “Stefan...” He held up a hand and tossed me a scathing glance. Clearly, we had a lot to talk about, but not now. Not yet. There would be time to heal wounds once this was over. Ryder was about to receive a firsthand introduction to Damien, if he hadn’t already.