They’d just witnessed a one-winged elemental she-demon summon the heat from another world and bolster the defenses of another demon, this one battling off a dragon eyeing up Boston as its own all-you-can-eat buffet. They should be running and screaming, collecting a few pitchforks and blazing torches, but they weren’t. The people of Boston are a hardy breed. Nothing fazes them.
“Do you need help?” a woman in a tartan skirt and heavy overcoat asked.
I blubbered. Gulped it back. “No... I’m—” I croaked. “I’m okay.” I tried to move, but my legs wouldn’t work. The young man, his red sweatshirt damp from melting snow, reached out a hand. I eyed it warily. He wasn’t afraid of me. He didn’t want to hurt me.
He helped me to my feet. The park was filling with people. The snow had melted, apart from the occasional, slushy pile. The people of Boston wandered through the abandoned police barriers, a soft murmur building around them. The police tried to seal off sections where bits of Larkwrari demon had fallen.
“I saw what you did...” The young man said. He smiled warmly and nodded, not needing to say the words.
I wanted to brush the thanks off with some witty reply but couldn’t find my voice. I hobbled alongside my new friend toward the Washington statue, needing to know if Stefan was alright. He and Ryder weren’t there. I managed to thank my Good Samaritan and told him I was fine, even though I really wasn’t. His eyes said thank you, and it was all I could do not to fall on the floor and sob my heart out. Beat me, hurt me, fight me and I’ll bounce back, but be nice to me? I folded quicker than a banker in a high-stakes poker game.
I slumped against the statue and rallied my thoughts. Nica was dead. Stefan hated me—might even want to kill me. I searched the clear sky. Akil had vanished, as I knew he would. And Damien was trapped inside me. Well, damn. There was another way of looking at it all. The snow had melted. Damien couldn’t hurt anyone else. Stefan was free of the netherworld. Wherever he was, he would be okay. I wasn’t giving up on him, even if he had given up on me. Akil would be back. If not, I’d summon the suave bastard so I could get my answers. I was alive. I’d survived the netherworld. I’d incinerated a horde of demons. I’d controlled enough power to help Mammon drive a dragon back across the veil. I was still here. All right, my demon had a broken wing, my shoulder burned, and my face ached. Yes, I had a whole scrapbook of new memories I’d like to burn, but the nightmares hadn’t destroyed me. I was the wretched, half-blood girl who beat them all.
So fuck off, netherworld. The demons can’t have me. Akil can’t have me. Nobody gets to tie me up and chain me down. Not anymore.
The Institute staff were giving each other high-fives and slapping their co-workers on the back. Smiles all round. I caught sight of Adam standing by a cop car and staggered toward him. He looked as though he might be debriefing some important officials. They all wore somber expressions. His left arm hung in a sling; courtesy of Stefan’s earlier threat to kill him. My shoulder throbbed in sympathy.
Adam saw me coming and barked an order. A couple of young Enforcers danced to his tune and came running, hands on their holstered weapons. They’d have PC34 injectors within reach.
“Restrain her,” Adam ordered.
I smiled, might even have laughed a little. After everything he’d seen, he still wanted me in chains. The Enforcers though, they didn’t much like the idea of tackling me. They hung back beside their fearless leader and his crowd of officials. My eyes warned them;
Touch me, and just you wait and see who has the power here.
“Where’s Stefan?” No quiver. No tremble. Cool clarity.
“You tell me.” Adam turned to face me. “The last I saw, he was about ready to slaughter a crowd of people.”
“Yeah, well, considering who that crowd mostly consisted of, I have to say I can’t blame him.” Stefan wasn’t with the Institute. That was good news. I had to assume Ryder had him, and in Ryder I could trust.
“Muse, get back to the Institute. We need to wrap this up. It’s a Public Relations nightmare.” Adam frowned, aging years.
Yeah, an arctic storm in the summer and dragons in the sky, it was going to be tough to hang all that on climate change. “I’m not going back. I quit.”
Adam bristled. “You don’t get to quit. Make your way back to HQ, or I’ll have you escorted there.”
The Enforcers at his side weren’t going to do anything. The look in their eyes was one of mutual respect. They’d seen what I could do, what I’d done. Apparently their boss had been looking the other way.
I held Adam’s gaze for a few moments. I wasn’t part of their solution. I wasn’t theirs to experiment on. I arched an eyebrow and gave him the middle-finger salute. His distinguished face screwed up. His skin flushed. His mouth fell open. He huffed and puffed, scrambling for the words to chastise me.
I turned and walked away. He ordered the Enforcers to restrain me, but didn’t push it when they refused. His gaze scorched my back. It felt good. It felt right, like a step in the right direction when lately, all I’d been doing was stumbling further and further toward chaos.
B
oston is
one of those cities where you can buy a Starbucks coffee, take a walk while drinking it, and find yourself outside another Starbucks at the exact moment you finish it. Useful, because I was running on caffeine alone.
Coleman had bought the coffees. We traded small talk as the mid afternoon sun beat down on the bustling street. He had his coat slung over a shoulder, had a folded newspaper tucked under one arm, and with his shirt sleeves rolled up, he walked a brisk, no-nonsense pace. The ordeal four days ago didn’t appear to have affected him in the slightest. He still breezed along while I struggled to keep up. My shoulder throbbed with a bristling heat. The wound Damien had dealt refused to heal. My head buzzed as though rammed full of steel wool; thanks in part to my demon pacing her metaphysical cage. Her emotional fallout tangled up with mine.
The Institute cellphone juddered in my pocket. I’d considered tossing it in the trash but hadn’t yet been able to go through with it. I plucked the phone free, pausing outside Old City Hall. Dappled sunlight filtered through the trees scattered about the courtyard. I had two missed calls from an unknown number and a text consisting of two words, “He’s okay”, I assumed it was from Ryder, but when I tried to call the number back, the line was dead. The other missed calls, eight in total, were from Adam. From previous voice messages, I knew what he wanted. He’d asked me to return as a freelance Enforcer. No strings attached. I didn’t have to live at the Institute. I could have my own apartment. My own life. That man bargained like a demon.
I sucked in a deep breath and remembered the copies I’d made of the Subject Beta file. The pages had been virtually destroyed by the assault of water, fire, and blood. I’d tried to peel the sheets apart and glue unburned bits back together, but all I managed to salvage were scraps.
I switched off the phone and shielded my eyes from the sun’s glare. Adam knew the truth. I couldn’t cut ties with the Institute, not until I knew what Operation Typhon was.
“Okay?” Coleman asked.
“Yeah.” He didn’t know me well enough yet to pick up on the anxiety plucking my nervous gestures. In the four days since the garden event, all I had managed to do was run and hide; caught between the necessary evil of the Institute and the threat from the demon population, including the unwanted attentions of my father should he ever send his she-man Levi to retrieve me. As far as demons went, I was persona non grata: too powerful to let wander free unmolested, too human to be a perceived threat. I’d already avoided an attempt on my life by a wily demon masquerading as a taxi driver. Coleman’s offer to take me for coffee provided a welcome distraction from my rapidly deteriorating lifestyle.
Coleman gestured inside the Old City Hall courtyard. I followed, grateful to step away from the crowd and shelter in the relatively serene surroundings. The Benjamin Franklin statue gave us his habitually stern bronze expression.
“Thank you,” I said to Coleman, taking a seat at one of the bistro tables, “for calling, I mean.”
“Thanks for taking the call. I know you’ve been... busy.” He sat opposite me, placed his coffee down, and spread the newspaper beside it. A picture of Akil adorned the front page, his charming smile and bright intelligent eyes all the more striking in black and white. The headline read: Better The Devil You Know. I’d heard the radio interviews, seen the news reports. Akil had somehow managed to come out of this smelling like roses. He could have vanished after the dragon-demon incident, but instead he’d deliberately buttered up the press, playing the demon hero. The demons could have a worse ambassador. At least Akil could pull off the human act with flawless precision. He wasn’t likely to start drooling and discarding his human vessel in front of the cameras. But exactly why he’d stepped up as the spokesperson for the demon community, I had yet to figure out. Whatever the reason, it wouldn’t be without cost.
“You know this guy?” Coleman asked. He’d watched my gaze linger on the front page story.
I shrugged my shoulder as nonchalantly as I could, then winced as the wound flared up. “In passing.”
“He’s flavor of the month.” Coleman scratched at his cheek and leaned back in the chair. “Saves the city from a freak snowstorm and manages to single-handedly protect us from a demon the size of a jumbo jet.”
Not even the Institute could cover up that smoking gun. The news was rife with reports of the netherworld, avoiding the name Hell presumably because of its negative connotations. The world was changing, the truth about demons unraveling at the seams.
“Yeah, what a hero.” Akil had been basking in the limelight while I’d been hiding in the shadows, trying to figure out what I was supposed to do next.
Coleman waited for me to fill the quiet with some sort of explanation. When I didn’t, he said, “I was there, Muse. I know what you did. Not only that, I’ve seen pictures of you...” he made a gesture with his hand, groping for the right explanation, “...both of you.” He leaned closer. “So far, you’ve managed to keep your head down. I’m trying to keep it that way by filtering out the pictures of what you really are. Some have gone viral on social media sites. There’s nothing I can do about that, but you’re mostly out of the spotlight. For now.”
I sipped my scalding hot coffee through its plastic lid. “Thanks.”
He watched me closely, the way cops do, reading everything on my face, in my posture. “I could use your help. I’ve tried to talk to Adam Harper, but my calls are blocked. Ryder’s number isn’t working. The people in this city, they don’t trust the Institute. They’re turning to us. At a time like this, they want to believe we know what we’re doing... and we don’t.” He sighed and shook his head. “Muse... it was a dragon. A goddamn dragon...”
“Well, technically, it was a Larkwrari demon, probably the original source of the dragons from folklore. They roam freely in the netherworld. They’re pretty rare, actually. Most are killed before they reach maturity. You can trace most myths and legends back to the netherworld.”
“This is what I’m talking about. The Institute has clammed up; they’re not talking, at least not to me. We have no idea what’s going on. The demon that murdered those women and attacked Detective Hill, has it been dealt with?” Coleman’s gaze hardened.
“How is she?” I asked tightly.
“Amanda’s okay. She’s taking some time… Wants to quit. I’ve told her to take a vacation.” Coleman waited. “Well? Did you get the sick bastard?”
I closed my eyes, toxic memories invading my thoughts. My chest tightened, and my heart kicked up the tempo. I felt him, Damien. His oily residue smothered my heart as it beat in my chest. “He’s gone,” I lied. His essence, or the tumor he’d infected me with, pulsated inside of me and showed no sign of fading. If anything, it was getting worse. The nights were the most difficult. He was there, all around me, inside me. I could feel the reach of his element, even smell his ozone scent like shorted electrical cables. Sleep, when it did come, was a fitful medley of nightmarish images and insidious urges.
When I opened my eyes, the bright courtyard and the bustling people all helped calm the panic threatening to spill over me. My hand trembled around my Starbucks cup.
“Did you find out who was helping him?” Coleman persisted.
He noticed me wince, but by the steel hardness of his eyes he clearly wasn’t going to let me get away with not answering. I sighed. “Yes. It was... Stefan’s sister. Adam left me some messages. They found notes in her apartment– diary entries. She’d summoned Damien, my owner, thinking he would take me back to the netherworld. She had witnessed the power I could wield a few months ago. It scared her.” I fluttered my eyes closed, a headache building. “She thought I was going to lose it and kill her father. She knew I hated him. I think, maybe, she was trying to do the right thing by getting rid of me.” The sad thing was, she was probably right. Not so long ago, I would have killed Adam, and I was volatile, dangerous. “She couldn’t have known how sick Damien is – was. Once he knew I was alive, he came through the veil, sought out Nica, promising her news of her brother if she told him a few things about the Institute. Things quickly spiraled out of her control.”
I found myself waiting for Coleman’s opinion, like waiting for the verdict at a trial.
“You look like you’re shouldering a lot of the blame. But it sure sounds like it wasn’t your fault, Charlie.”
I nodded, not wanting to get into it with him, or anyone. “It’s over.” For everyone else it was. But not for me.
Coleman nodded, “Only, it’s not is it...”
I flicked my eyes to his. “What do you mean?”
“The Institute has gone over our heads,” he explained.
I struggled to anchor my thoughts in the moment and rubbed my eyes. I was so damn tired...
“They’re talking to the government, which means nothing to me and my guys on the streets.”
I sucked in air through my nose and rolled my shoulders. “They’re our best hope at holding back the tide.” As much as I disagreed with their tactics, there really wasn’t an alternative.
Coleman didn’t budge an inch. “I want you to be my consultant.” He noticed me flinch. “Nothing formal. Just be there when I call.”
I hid the creeping sense of anxiety by taking sips of coffee. “I’m just a half-blood caught between two worlds. I don’t know much. In the pecking order of demons, I’m right at the bottom.” I should sit Akil down and demand answers, but that would mean I’d have to actually spend time with him, and I didn’t trust myself.
Your father is the Prince of Lust…
I shivered.
Coleman’s eyes narrowed on me. “You know this demon, Akil Vitalis. You know more than me, more than anyone outside the Institute. We’re fighting blind, Muse, and don’t tell me this isn’t a fight because we both know different.”
I had enough to worry about without dragging Coleman into the mix. A hideous parasite sucked on my soul. Wherever Stefan was, he thought me a traitor and hated me for what he saw as a complete betrayal of his trust, not to mention blaming me for the death of his sister. The Institute was breathing down my neck. My father, Asmodeus, had issued the demon equivalent of an arrest warrant and sent Levi to scoop me up and carry me home, while Akil, well, Akil had been conspicuous in his absence, but would have no doubt decided I was his new best friend because, in demon terms, I could recharge his batteries and then some. I had enough on my plate without Coleman calling me for demon advice every time a citizen got spooked by the demon-next-door.
“I can’t.”
“I’m not asking for much. I just need someone to go to for answers, Muse.” Coleman eyes pinched, fine lines deepening. “In the four days since the Garden event, we’ve had hundreds of calls. Things like a demon’s kidnapped my son, or a demon broke into my house—”
“Impossible, higher demons need an invite to enter someone’s home. They can wander freely in public places or communal buildings, but there’s something about a home that repels them. Unless it’s a lesser demon; they can pretty much go anywhere, but they’re rare on this side of the veil. They have to be summoned here and controlled. They can’t come through on their own.”
“What type was the dragon?”
“Lesser.”
“That sure looked like it was coming through on its own.”
“That was because Stefan held the veil open too long. It’s unlikely to happen again.”
Coleman gave me an open palmed gesture and a pained expression, as if to say, “There you go. See what I mean?”
I placed my takeaway coffee cup carefully on the table and leaned back. “You must have someone in Boston PD who’s researched demons.”
“Yeah, we do, but how do we filter the myth from the fact? The Institute jumped on anything remotely demon and took it out our hands. Now, things are getting hotter, and we need someone on our side.”
“I don’t cope very well with responsibility. I’ve got demons on my back who would rather slit my throat than let me walk free. I can’t guarantee I’m going to be here tomorrow, so I certainly can’t guarantee I’m going to be of any help to you.”
He mused on my words for a while and watched the people seated at the tables around us. “I don’t understand your world, Muse. I don’t really understand what you are, and I don’t like what I don’t understand. I’m not the only one. How long do you think it will be before people take matters into their own hands?”
I didn’t want to tell him the demons would win, but it was the truth. The Institute had knowledge and was learning fast but was in its infancy compared to the ageless creatures just a veil away. Thankfully, higher demons worked alone, but should the Princes decide to take a closer look this side of the veil and pool their resources... It didn’t bear thinking about. There were those who said at the beginning of all things, the netherworld was like the human world, twin worlds conceived at the same moment, but over time the demons corrupted the netherworld. They could do the same again here, and the Institute wouldn’t know what hit them.
What was it Akil had said? The netherworld was changing. Dammit, I needed answers from him. He wouldn’t give them up freely.
“Okay,” I said. “But I’m not making any guarantees. Don’t get all bent out of shape if you call and I don’t answer.” I glanced at the front page of the newspaper. “I’ve got my own crap to deal with.”
Coleman didn’t smile, but he did nod appreciatively. “It works both ways. All right, I may not know what I’m dealing with, but if I can ever help you with your... problems, I will. Just ask.”
I held out my hand, and Coleman gave it an agreeable shake. “Deal,” I said flatly.
He smiled and leaned in closer. “So tell me about Akil Vitalis.”