Beyond the Veil (15 page)

“
Stop.
”
Another wave of heat washed over me, its receding edge dragging the last vestiges of power out of me. I dropped to my knees, giving myself over to her completely because it was inevitable. I couldn
’
t control her, not like this, not with a demon of Akil
’
s lineage pulling my strings.

“
Akil, please
…
Don
’
t do this. I can
’
t
…”
I slumped over, one hand on the ground.
“
I can
’
t control it.
”
Heat from the earth pooled about me. I felt the residual warmth from the city shoring me up, an unending supply of chaos to fuel my lust for destruction. I didn
’
t want to hurt anyone, but before long I wouldn
’
t have a choice.

Akil stood over me.
“
This is what you are.
”
He took my hand and pulled me to my feet, apparently impervious to the tendrils of my power lashing around him.

“
How dare you?
”
A snarl rippled across my lips.
“
You think I won
’
t use this? You think I can
’
t? You have no idea what you
’
ve done.
”
My voice no longer sounded like mine. My demon spoke through me. The words echoed in on themselves.

Akil reached a hand through the shimmering veil surrounding me, as if to stroke my face, but the thought of his invasive touch only angered me further. How dare he play me like this? I batted his hand away with a growl. When he tried again, I planted both hands on his shoulders and shoved him back.

He just smiled. I peered through my demon guise and watched his demon form emerge, framing his human vessel so that both man and demon existed, one layered over the other. Mammon leered at me, his leathery wings held aloft. Embers fizzed along their ragged edges. I cocked my head to the side, closing the fingers of my right hand into a fist while pooling energy into my arm. It came willingly, like an eager pet, rushing into me. I flung the blast of heat outward, feeling it peel over my arm and spill from my fingers. Akil staggered back, lifting a hand, palm out. He laughed.

By that point, I
’
d had enough of the games. I summoned everything I could call, pulling heat from every surface, teasing it from the tiniest of molecules and drawing it into my very being. I drew the lingering heat from the metal of the engine of the boat behind me. The lights, central heating systems, electricity cables, even the residual warmth inside the walls of the nearby buildings, the ground beneath our feet. It came freely to me, rushing from every crevice to bolster my strength.

“
Nobody uses me, Akil,
”
my demon snarled.
“
And you
’
re a fool if you think you can.
”

He backed up and gleefully shook off his mortal appearance. His truly demonic being appeared before me. He smiled, betraying rows of pointed teeth behind black lips. A chuckle rumbled through him like distant thunder. I lashed out, cracking a whip-like tendril of fire in the air before thrashing it across his chest. He flinched but opened his arms, his muscles quivering as the wound I
’
d opened instantly resealed itself.

I lashed the tendril of heat at him again, catching him across the face. A gash smoldered across his cheek before the leathery skin stitched itself back together. My demon roared her frustration, not just at him, but at everything. The torture we
’
d endured, and then my attempt to forget she even existed and now these numerous attempts on our life ignited a molten river of rage. I lifted both hands, holding them in front of me and balling the free-flowing energy between them. My fingers, blackened like coal, framed the pulsating sphere. Its heat rippled in the air around me.

“
You can
’
t hurt me, Muse.
”
Mammon
’
s voice resounded in my head.

“
I already did.
”
I saw him falter. Even with him in his demon state, I could see his features pitch into a frown. I launched the radiating sphere at him, cast with it every ounce of anger and frustration in me. I funneled it all into that attack with a scream of rage that shattered the glass in the buildings behind him. Alarms shrilled in the air as the flow of energy slammed into Mammon. He deflected it with ease at first, but as the flow strengthened, its blanching heat flooded over him, forcing him to stumble back. Seeing him hesitate only drove me forward. I called more power into me, letting it flow through me and blast outward, taking with it a lifetime worth of fury.

Mammon found his back against the wall, wings pinned flush against the granite blocks, and still I poured everything through me, channeling it all down my arms so it could spill from my hands. Suddenly he lunged, plowing a shoulder right into my stomach to drive me back. I hadn
’
t seen him conjure the ethereal blade, but I saw it now, right before he lifted it above his head. I had a moment to appreciate the beauty of its shimmering blade before falling. Mammon
’
s demon face sneered down at me as I reached for him, but I was fast falling away from him. A cool breeze brushed against my smoldering flesh right before the water engulfed me, quenching the blazing rage within a few breathless seconds. My demon retreated inside me so quickly that she knocked the air from my lungs. I gulped water, a current of bubbles fluttering in front of my eyes. My lungs burned for air. My head pounded.

I didn
’
t know which way was up. I kicked out and twisted, desperately seeking the surface but saw only darkness. My demon cowered inside me. The water completely robbed her of any helpful input. My attempts to summon my element were met with spluttering denials.

I
’
m drowning
…

That wasn
’
t quite how I
’
d envisaged bowing out of this life and certainly not by Akil
’
s hand. Quiet descended over me. I still thrashed, my limbs desperately seeking purchase in the endless black. My chest heaved, lungs flooded with water, but I didn
’
t mind so much. I could watch it all from afar, as though it were happening to another poor soul, not me. It was okay. I
’
d be okay. It no longer hurt.

Salt water bubbled up my throat. I bucked against the wooden boards beneath me and coughed water from my lungs. My stomach heaved up water and the remains of my meal, dumping it unceremoniously on the decking beside me. I spluttered and spat, my throat burning, eyes watering, but I was alive.

“
She
’
s okay!
”

I didn
’
t recognize the voice, or the people looming over me. Someone rushed in and wrapped a blanket around me, saying the paramedics were on the way. I might have muttered something about being fine, which of course I clearly was not. It took a few minutes before I could stand. Flashing blue lights danced off the yachts around me. Police cars and fire trucks lined the marina. Glass glistened on the roadway. An ambulance peeled its way through the crowd. Someone asked me if I knew what had happened. I shook my head quickly, wet hair clinging to my cheeks. The marina looked as though it had survived a bomb blast. I began to tremble, shock rattling my bones. I couldn
’
t quite breathe. My head spun. I had to stop walking and clutch hold of the stranger who
’
d been helping me. When the paramedics finally got to me, I needed them.

***

By the time I arrived at the city hospital, I
’
d regained some of my wits. I couldn
’
t stay there, not without them asking too many questions. I still had the death of a detective hanging over me not to mention a Prince of Hell trying to kill me. At the first opportunity, I found the washrooms and attempted to clean myself up. My reflection didn
’
t look like me at all. The woman in the mirror looked like death warmed up
—
literally. I ignored her terrified eyes, her bruised flesh, and dozens of cuts and tried to gather my thoughts into a coherent order.

“
He tried to kill me.
”
My wide-eyed reflection peered back at me. The demon inside me twisted anxiously, knotting a ball of pain. I could argue I
’
d brought it on myself, but Akil had been the one poking the sleeping tiger with a stick. He should have left well alone.

  There was nothing I could do with my appearance. I tried to comb my fingers through my tangled hair, but the knots refused to give in. I
’
d have to walk out of the hospital and hope I didn
’
t get stopped. Outside the washroom door, a hand gripped my arm. I turned, armed with a stock response about being fine, only to find Stefan frowning at me. I snatched my arm free of his grip and brushed my hair back, preferring to watch the people flow through the corridor around us than see the concern on his face. He was going to be nice, and if he did that, I
’
d likely cry. I sure as hell was not crying in front of him, or anyone.

 
“
I
’
m sorry.
”
He stepped into me as someone briskly brushed by him. I backed up, finding the wall to lean against as he bowed his head, searching my expression.
“
Are you alright?
”

  I nodded curtly, avoiding his stare.

  Stefan hesitated as if searching for the right words.
“
I didn
’
t think he
’
d
…”

 
“
Drown me?
”
I shrugged.
“
Me neither.
”

  Stefan looked as though he had a few hundred questions, but my general washed out appearance must have shocked him into silence because he stayed quiet.

 
“
Can we
…”
I tried to swallow and winced. My throat felt as though I
’
d attempted to drink shattered glass.
“
Can we get out of here?
”
I couldn
’
t look at him. I wasn
’
t ready for questions or any of the answers. I didn
’
t want to think at all and almost wished I could hide like my demon, just curl up in a ball and pretend it never happened.

 
Stefan
’
s car looked like a rental and smelled like one too, but the quiet comfort inside immediately lulled me into a sense of security that I hadn
’
t had since, well
—
forever. I twisted in the front seat, pulling my legs up to my chest and wedged myself there, chin resting on my knees as I watched the city blur past. The shivering wouldn
’
t stop, and my throat burned, constantly reminding me how close I
’
d come.

 
“
Are you okay?
”

 
“
Stop asking me that.
”

  After twenty minutes, I noticed we were in the suburbs. The houses were sparsely scattered along the tree-lined streets. Then Stefan pulled the rental car onto Route 95 North. We joined the four lanes of traffic, and before long, Boston was little more than an orange glow against the night sky in the rear view mirrors. The drone of the wheels on the road eventually lulled me to sleep.

***

 
We arrived at a lakeside house. Its whiteboard timber-clad fa
ç
ade and wrap-around porch did a grand job of declaring it a New England character house. The interior looked as though it had once undergone some modernization
—
in the seventies
—
but it was clean, functional, and had some of those wonderful anti-elemental-markings on every wall. Stefan let me wander as he retrieved a duffle bag from the car and dumped it in the middle of the lounge.

 
“
This where you bring all your girls before you bury them in the woods?
”
I broke the silence we
’
d harbored since Boston.

 
He chuckled.
“
This is
—
was my father
’
s house.
”

  I remembered that Nica had told me his father was dead, but I wasn
’
t comfortable enough with Stefan to ask about him.

 
“
I don
’
t suppose you have a change of clothes in that bag?
”
I smelled the salt water on me, combined with the delightful odor of diesel, vomit, and my own burnt-out smoky residue.

  Stefan hefted the bag onto the coffee table and unzipped it to reveal a selection of guns and swords. It made for an interesting overnight bag but was not exactly packed with home comforts.

  I screwed up my face.
“
Is there a shower here?
”

 
“
Sure. It
’
ll be lukewarm
…
Take a right up the stairs. It
’
s on your left. Check for spiders.
”

  He looked deadpan serious until I began to climb the stairs and saw him enjoy a little smile as he busied himself checking the contents of the bag. He looked up suddenly, catching me watching him.

 
“
You
’
re safe here.
”

  I nodded, afraid my voice might betray exactly how much that meant to me and then hurried upstairs.

I slept the remainder of the night on the patterned couch with the weapons strewn about the coffee table within reach should Akil burst through the door. Without an invite from the owner of the house, Akil couldn
’
t enter, but that didn
’
t stop me from waiting anxiously for his arrival. Borrowing one of Stefan
’
s shirts to sleep in had been a good idea in the middle of the night when I was exhausted and didn
’
t care. Now it was early morning, and I wasn
’
t entirely comfortable walking around the house with only his shirt covering my dignity, and not much dignity at that.

  The smell of coffee lured me into the kitchen where the panoramic lakeside view immediately beckoned me toward the windows. The land below the house swept down to the water
’
s edge. The lake stretched to either side of the expanse of windows and beyond, hidden behind towering pine and birch trees. I couldn
’
t see another house in the isolated landscape, let alone another person. I
’
d never been so detached from the city and wondered if I should feel isolated. I didn
’
t. I felt safe.

 
“Hey.”

 
Stefan
’
s sudden appearance made me jump. I tugged self-consciously on the edges of the shirt I
’
d borrowed, pulling it down as far as it would go
—
not very. If he noticed, he didn
’
t show it. Points for him for keeping his eyes to himself.

 
“
That
’
s some view
…”
I gazed out the window again.

 
“
In the winter, it
’
s breathtaking.
”

 
I skewed a smile at him. Of course he
’
d like the White Mountains in the winter. He would literally be in his element. He
’
d dressed casually in jeans and a black shirt, the dark color brightening his astonishing eyes. I had to wonder how he passed for human at all. Those eyes were compelling to the point of distraction.

 
“
Coffee?
”
He gestured at the percolator already working its magic.

 
“
Definitely.
”

 
Watching him breeze about the kitchen, it occurred to me that I hadn
’
t really considered his part in all of this. He continued to show up and help me out of sticky situations, and yet he hadn
’
t really asked anything of me. He
’
d mentioned in passing how he wanted my help to kill Val, but the subject hadn
’
t been broached since. It wasn
’
t as though we
’
d actually sat and talked. We could now though.

 
“
Are you going to ask me what happened?
”
I watched him pour the black coffee into two chunky mugs.

 
“
I know. Half the demon population of Boston knows.
”
He flicked his gaze to me.
“
Muse, you practically drained the city center of heat and threw it all at Akil. I didn
’
t need to be there to feel that.
”
That was a fair assessment, although I was still trying to figure out how exactly it had happened.
“
But I was there
…
at the end.
”

 
He passed me the mug of coffee and a box of sugar cubes.
“
I saw what you were doing
—
what he did. You were in the water for five minutes. At least.
”

  I sipped the coffee, letting it scald my lips. Five minutes was a long time. I remembered the dark and the cold. So damn cold. The water had snuffed out my element in one gut-wrenching blow. Had I not been drowning, the sudden quenching of the inferno raging through me could easily have sundered my soul in two. It would be like pouring ice water into a roaring forge. Anything caught between those two opposing forces could easily succumb. Had Akil known that when he
’
d pushed me over the edge?

“
You didn
’
t think to help?
”
I
’
d meant to ask lightly, but a quiver undermined the confidence of my words.

  Stefan gave me a hint of a smile, making it seem sympathetic.
“
And get between you two? I
’
d rather face the Hellhounds again.
”

 
I couldn
’
t blame him for that. If Akil hadn
’
t have killed him, I might have. My thoughts hadn
’
t exactly been my own.

 
“
Akil waited for you to resurface.
”

 
“
How long?
”
I blinked too quickly and leaned against the kitchen cupboards, needing a little more support than my legs could offer.

 
“
A few minutes. Some people showed up. Someone called the cops. He didn
’
t hang around after that. I couldn
’
t see you in the water, let alone save you. You were lucky, really lucky. The two of you had managed to wake the entire marina. Someone saw you
…”
He averted his gaze to the windows.
“
They pulled you out the water...
”
He paused, and I had to wonder what I
’
d looked like. Limp. Cold. Pale skin. Blue lips.
“
I thought you were dead.
”

 
“
I
’
ve been dead before. Several times. It
’
s nothing to write home about,
”
I said. He mirrored my smile, but he wasn
’
t buying my bravado. It was, however, true. Damien had enjoyed bringing me back from the brink of death, nursing me back to health so he could start all over again. The unwanted memories vied for attention, forcing my eyes closed. I rubbed at my aching forehead.

 
“
How are you holding up?
”
Stefan asked.

  Considering my on-off again boyfriend had almost succeeded in killing me, and how my demon-self had attempted to summon the molten rock from beneath her feet
…
Yeah, I was doing fine.
“
I
’
m okay.
”
It was a lie, but what else was I supposed to say?
“
I think you were right
…
about Akil. What you didn
’
t see last night
…
He
…”
I rested the coffee on the countertop and admired the view of the lake. The serenity beyond the windows helped level my fragmented thoughts.
“
I hurt him. I mean, when I left a few years ago.
”

  Stefan sat at the pine kitchen table, leaning back a little in the seat.
“
You walked away from the Prince of Greed.
”

  I skewed a sideways glance at him, but his habitual smugness had evaporated. If anything, he looked weary.

 
“
That sealed your fate, right there.
”

 
“
But
…”
I didn
’
t need to say it again
…
but you don
’
t know Akil like I do
.
“
He
’
s never hurt me. Not once.
”

 
Stefan sighed.
“
He tried to kill you.
”

 
“
No, he didn
’
t. He was deliberately baiting me. That
’
s all. He summoned my demon, and I lost control. He wasn
’
t trying to kill me. He wanted
…
it
–
her.
”
I tapped my chest.

 
“
Muse, listen to yourself. You
’
re defending a demon, and not any demon, a Prince of Hell. They aren
’
t known for their patience and understanding.
”

  I shook my head. Akil was right about one thing. Stefan would never understand. He spent his life killing demons. He had it simple. I
’
d spent my life among them. I might despise the majority of them, but I knew them. They were family. Twisted, bitter, dangerous, slippery, back-stabbing, but family all the same.

 
I held Stefan
’
s sorry expression. He pitied me. I knew that. We weren
’
t ever going to agree.

 
Stefan finally broke the standoff.
“
There are some things we need to do. Are you up to it?
”

 
“
Depends what it is.
”

 
“
We need to revoke that invitation. It
’
s easily done, but we need to do that soon, before he realizes you
’
re alive and missing.
”

 
“
Okay.
”
I was up to that.
“
And?
”

 
“
The sword.
”

 
Ah, the sword.
“
I don
’
t know.
”
Stefan stood so suddenly I jumped. The cool clarity in his eyes had returned, scolding me with a frosty glare as he passed by me. Apparently, I didn
’
t have a choice.

***

 Revoking the invitation was easy enough, as it turns out. A bowl of warm water to house my pale reflection, and a few utterances later, it was over. I didn
’
t feel any different, but Stefan assured me it was enough. As with anything demon-related, it was the intention behind the symbolism that held the power.

  He left me alone for an hour while he went into the nearest town for groceries. I took the opportunity to be nosey and gave myself a little tour of the lakeside house. Stefan had said it was his father
’
s. If that was the case, Stefan
’
s father had been an avid reader because the books lining the wall beneath the stairs were all old, leather-bound editions. The majority focused on the subject of demons. I plucked a few from the tight rows and thumbed through them. Much was already known about demons, but not nearly enough. The demons kept it that way, preferring to flit through the veil without the hindrance of worshippers and scholars tripping them up.

 
Many myths were forged on truth. Christianity had attempted to reveal the veil, but they
’
d mixed the message up with too much of the divine. There is no divine entity, no good versus evil, no heaven or hell. It
’
s all part of the netherworld, hidden just out of sight in the corners of your vision. That flicker of movement at the end of a poorly lit street, the tingling across your flesh as you sense you
’
re being watched. The demons are right there, with us, and yet just out of reach. Some tinkered on this side of the veil, some preferred the netherworld. Akil liked it here. He enjoyed walking among the people, playing their games, feeding off their greed. If there
’
s one thing we mortals have a lot of, it
’
s greed. Other demons hop back and forth, preferring quick visits. Val despises it here. To him, we
’
re worthless bags of flesh and bone.

 
Wandering about the house, I found a framed photograph of a grizzled man in his early forties standing by the water
’
s edge, fishing rod in one hand, the catch of the day
—
a salmon
—
on the grass at his feet. He had a substantial grin on his weathered face. On a second glance, I recognized a fierce glint of pride in his eye. Just like his son. He had to be Stefan
’
s father. Stefan had his mother
’
s eyes but his father
’
s mischievous grin.

  Returning to the bag of weapons on the coffee table, I noticed the katana protruding from among the other swords. The damned thing was haunting me. I wrapped my hand around the handle and lifted it out. A new scabbard covered the blade, made of carbon fiber by the looks of the interwoven sheen. The sword felt light in my hand, with a perfect balance between the handle and blade. I could never forge something so labor intensive. The process took months and involved upward of four swordsmiths. Of all the weapons in Stefan
’
s bag of tricks, this one was priceless.

 I closed my left hand around the scabbard and pulled it a few inches free of the guard, exposing a hypnotic swirl of light on the tempered edge of the blade. I
’
d revealed just a hint of metal, just a little tease, but I couldn
’
t resist freeing the entire length of the sword before laying the scabbard on the couch behind me. I tipped the blade up, watching the sunlight from the window drape across the carbon-steel. The cross-cross pattern of leather around the handle had been cut from shark skin, tough, light, and durable.

  It felt good in the hand, weighty with potential. I turned my left hand up and lay the blade across my palm. Almost immediately, a snap of energy danced up my arm, just enough to release a tickle of excitement inside me. My element simmered but didn
’
t wake. I should have left it alone, should have put it back in its scabbard and tucked it away safely in the bag. The horror in that blade might have stayed there for a little while longer, but my old friend, curiosity, lead me astray.