Chaos Rises: A Veil World Urban Fantasy (13 page)

He shook his head and craned his neck, cracking joints, acclimatizing to the smaller human form. “Do you have anything to say, Gem?” Some of the demon still sounded in his voice, dragging his deep tone down and turning it gravelly.

You have my brother. You lied to me. You’re using me. I hate you, Clayton Allard.

My element stirred. My demon paced inside my head.
Not yet—not yet—not yet. I can’t beat him here. I have to be smart, to be quick. This is not the place, not the time—

I thrust the blade into his chest. I wasn’t aware I’d formed it until it was there, in my hand and plunging into him. Shock dumped ice water in my veins. Allard’s eyes briefly widened, and before I could blink, he clamped an arm around me and yanked me close, driving the blade in deeper still until blood bubbled over my fist.

“You really…shouldn’t have,” he whispered, lips tainted with blood.

Fear numbed the shock. “I didn’t… I’m...” I couldn’t explain. I didn’t know how it had happened.

He’d kill me. I hadn’t meant it, but the demon in me had. Warm blood spilled down my arm, dripping at my elbow. And still, he crushed me close, so close I could see how marble-smooth his skin was, how black his eyes were. They would be the last things I saw, and I wished I’d seen my brother again to tell him I was sorry. He’d promised we’d always be together, but I’d made a liar out of him.

“Haven’t I been kind to you?” Allard sneered, so close his bloodied lips brushed mine. “Haven’t I kept you safe?”

I tasted his metallic blood on my lips, or perhaps it was my own, and pushed at his chest. Tighter, he pulled. His arm squeezed, compressing my chest against his. Tighter, harder, closer.

No, no… Not like this. I can’t…

“My brother…” I growled the words out, only managing broken whispers.

“Your brother is necessary, Gem.” With his free hand, he swept my hair out of my eyes. “So are you. But I can’t let this stand. You understand?”

“Let her go.” From somewhere distant, Torrent’s voice sailed through the fog. He was close, but I was far away, somewhere else, somewhere it didn’t hurt.

I couldn’t think about him. I couldn’t think about anything besides breathing. My vision throbbed in time with my heartbeat, a pounding that seemed to travel all the way down to nothingness, where I was headed if I couldn’t get free.

I relaxed my hold on my demon, and she came, but it was all so distant. Ice crawled across my skin but came too slowly. And it wasn’t enough. With PC34A in me, it would never be enough to stop Allard.

“You need us?” Torrent again. Why was he here?

My head lolled. I tried to keep it up, I really did, but everything was so heavy and hollow. So hollow.

“You need us!” he said again.

My cheek and forehead slammed into something sharp and unyielding. I blinked, watching demons scatter and the ground shake. Ah, I was on the ground. Well, that was good, wasn’t it? A few more blinks and needles of pain punched into my skull. Pain. It was real. I was filling my body up again, coming back to myself. I smelled the ocean and tasted salty water on my lips. Torrent.

A flurry of shimmering wings slammed into a nearby car, shunting the vehicle sideways. Torrent—all demon—collapsed, crumpling to his hands and knees, wings sprawled, scales dulled. He lifted his head, and the undeniable pull of his ocean eyes drew me back from the nothingness.

What was he doing? He’d get himself killed. This wasn’t the way. We had to be smarter.

I yanked on my demon, all of her, every last piece of her hungry, angry, vicious self, and poured her into my limbs. My element danced across my flesh, filling me up, making me whole. Wings built, layer upon layer of armored ice, reaching, clawing.

Survive, that was all I had to do. Survive this now.

Allard strode toward Torrent, still as a man with the ground shifting at his every step. Allard would tear him to pieces and crush him to dust. I’d seen him kill for less.

On my feet and forgotten by Allard, I pulled every tiny slither of cold from nearby until there was nothing left to draw from. I had one shot at survival, one chance to get away. Ice built, my wings sang, and I flung it all at Allard. A blast of jagged ice slammed into Allard, ripping through his body. The ice turned red and sailed on, tearing into Allard’s guards.

For one silent, motionless second, I stood afraid, too afraid to move, to breathe. The mist once again settled, and the ground was still. Blood pooled with melted ice, and the bodies lay motionless against the driveway. Allard was there, skin flayed from his bones. Dead?

I took a single, steadying breath and bolted, dropping my demon and scooping up Torrent by an arm. “The bike. We gotta go.”

He staggered, losing his demon in a ripple of power, then shook himself back into the moment and bolted for his bike. I followed. Any second now, Allard would wake. He’d kill us. He wouldn’t be able to stop himself. I mounted the revving bike behind Torrent and clung on, praying to all things that Allard didn’t wake up until we were far, far away.

He has my brother. I will get you back, Del. I will.

Torrent’s bike growled and tunneled into the fog. We left the fallen demons in the mist, far behind us.

T
orrent pulled
the bike into a hotel parking lot. I eased upright, taking a quick look around us at the high-end cars and perfectly manicured garden. “Why are we he—”

He planted his right leg to stabilize the bike and clutched at his side with a drawn-out hiss. “Have to stop—” He struggled to get the words out around tight, haggard breaths.

I dismounted and eased his shoulder back so I could get a look at why he’d doubled up. Dark blood soaked through his shirt and seeped between his fingers. He wasn’t going anywhere, except maybe the ER if he lost any more blood. He looked up at me through his lashes. Resilience burned in his gaze, but for how much longer?

“Do you have cash? I’ll get a room.”

“Right pocket,” he growled. “Van’s visa card. She won’t notice.”

With Van’s card in hand, I hurried inside, combing out my hair with my fingers and straightening my clothes. The concierge raised his brow, but the neatly attired guy at reception welcomed me with a polite smile. Vanessa’s card sailed through without a hitch. Getting Torrent to the room unnoticed was a whole lot harder. His big coat hid the blood, and with his collar flicked up, he did a masterful job of placing one foot in front of the other, but by the time we made it to the room, he’d lost all color in his face and clutched at his side like he might fall apart at any second.

I gathered up a stack of towels and dumped them on the bed beside him. He’d managed to work his jacket off. He glared at a spot on the wall, hissing through his teeth. He probably had a few cracked or broken ribs. If he had a punctured lung, there wouldn’t be much I could do.

“Lie down,” I ordered.

He levered himself slowly down, wincing around gritted teeth. “You know—what you’re doing?

“Can you breathe okay?”

“…just painful.”

Not a punctured lung then, hopefully. I went to work peeling off his shirt and found his entire right side mottled black and purple. If he had internal bleeding as the bruises suggested, he could die here.

“It’s bad?”

I tried to smile, but he’d already seen his answer on my face. “You’ll be fine.” He was lucky to be conscious. At his waist, blood dribbled from a ragged three-inch tear. When Allard threw him against the car, the metal must have buckled and cut into him. Had he been human at the time, Allard could have killed him.

I set to work cleaning the wound as best as I could, but without a basic trauma kit, there was little I could do. If I called the EMTs in, there was a risk they’d refuse to treat him, and their involvement would probably win Torrent a one-way ticket to the Institute. They would finish Allard’s work for him.

“Turn demon.” I tossed a bloodied towel aside and used the back of my bloodied-hand to brush my hair off my cheek. “You’ll heal quicker, and it won’t hurt as much.”

Torrent closed his eyes, probably weighing the risks. “If we were discovered...”

“That’s not likely. As a human, you’re weak. Turn. There’s nothing more I can do for you.”

“You just say it as it is, huh...” With a sharp, twisted groan he relaxed his hold, letting the change ride over him. I blinked. When I looked back, his demon self took up the whole bed, and his pearly wings hung limp off the edges. His wound still gaped, but the bleeding had stopped. He’d heal in a few hours. Resilience is what makes half bloods the demons’ favored toys. Humans die too easily.

I busied myself tidying the used towels away and washed blood from my hands. By the time I’d cleaned up, he breathed slow and steady. Asleep.

Curling myself into an armchair, I propped my head on my hand and watched Torrent’s scarred chest rise and fall. He’d tackled Allard and nearly gotten himself killed. He shouldn’t have done that. I’d screwed up, but Allard wouldn’t have killed me. Now though? After I’d filled Allard full of icy spears? I’d pay. Sooner or later, he’d make me suffer. He’d asked if I’d understood why he had to hurt me, and I did.

My eyelids fell as sleep wove dreams through my thoughts, dreams of demons, of black eyes, of ice-daggers, and shimmering wings.

I might have stayed dreaming had tiny patters of rain not dashed my face. I opened my eyes and tried to make sense of the garbled message from my senses. Hissing sounds of running faucets and burbling sinks. And rain. Wait… Rain? My defenses sprang up, swirling my element close. It was raining
inside
the hotel room? Blinking water out of my eyes, I scanned the room and found Torrent tucked into a corner. He’d pulled his wings in tight, cocooning himself inside. Water streamed down his wing membranes and shivered over his scales.

“Torrent?”

I dashed into the bathroom and twisted off the faucets and shower then returned to Torrent. The carpet squelched under my boots, and rain hissed against my head and shoulders. I blinked up. Sprinklers.

“Torrent, can you…maybe…turn off the waterworks?”

He didn’t answer.

I squelched closer and crouched down beside him. Either he couldn’t hear me or he didn’t want to, but maybe he’d feel me. I stretched out a hand. “Hey…” My fingers skipped across his smooth, wet scales. He flinched. “Hey, it’s okay.” I spread my fingers wide, going slow. His wings were warm and surprisingly soft. “It’s okay. It’s just me.”

I swallowed and eased my hand up over his wing arch, letting him feel me every inch of the way. “Torrent…” Curling my fingers over the top, I eased his wing open a little. “It’s Gem…” He snatched his wing back and clamped it down. Fear. I knew what it felt like to be driven into a corner, out of your mind with fear. But my hiding place had been a transparent box. There were times I’d pulled on my element too, pulled it so damn hard and wrapped myself up in it, so it felt like I’d turned the world to ice. “You have to stop the water, Torrent. Can you do that?” I hoped that whatever control he had over the water hadn’t alerted the hotel’s security.

The sprinkler jets fizzled and slowed to drips. A soft quiet settled, punctured only by the soft
drip-dripping
of water. “You okay?” I asked. Clearly, he wasn’t. But if I could get him talking, he might come around from the nightmare he was stuck in.

He didn’t answer.

Resigned to a wet and cold night, I sat beside Torrent, pulled my legs up against my chest, and leaned into his wing. Tremors still rolled through him, but not as bad as before. Sometimes, words couldn’t fix things. Sometimes, it was enough to know you weren’t alone. In the past, I’d had Del’s hand in mine. Maybe Torrent hadn’t had anyone to help him through those times.

I settled my hand against his wing, planted my chin on my knees, and closed my eyes. Hopefully, wherever his mind was, whatever memory he was reliving, he’d know he was no longer alone.

* * *

W
hen I woke
, sunlight streamed in through the motel window and cut straight to the back of my skull, where it beat a dull ache. It was too quiet to be Fairhaven, and the bed smelled fresh and clean. I was on the bed? I propped myself up on my elbows and patted myself down. My clothes and the sheets were bone dry. And the corner, where I distinctly remembered Torrent cowering, was empty.

He’s gone.

“Brilliant,” I growled.

I showered, examined my almost-healed head wound, and frowned at the pile of bloodied towels. There was nothing left to hint at the flood, no wet carpets, no sign of anything unusual happening last night. I hadn’t imagined Torrent’s episode, had I?

A few knocks rapped on the door. “It’s late. Do you want dinner?” Torrent. And he sounded…normal. There was a slight undercurrent of a growl in those words, like he’d just woken up, but for all I knew that could have been his morning voice. Dinner? I’d been out the entire day?

I caught my reflection smiling and scowled right back at it. “I’ll be right there.”

Torrent had bought bagels. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was until the first bite of bagel went down. Leaning against a desk, I munched on the bread while Torrent spread his coat on the bed and checked its many internal and external pockets. He wore a different shirt, I noticed. He’d been out exploring, using Van’s card to pay for new clothes.

I caught a glimpse of sharp-tipped arrowheads tucked inside his coat pockets. He picked up the compact bow, ran his hands over its mechanism with practiced ease, and began to load the quiver positioned below the barrel.

He brushed his hip and hissed softly. I hadn’t imagined his wound, at least.

“Why a crossbow?” I asked around a mouthful of bagel. “Why not a knife, or a gun?”

“I can’t get the ammo for a gun, and if I’m close enough to use a knife, a fist will do just as well.” He tucked the final arrow into the quiver and lifted the bow, testing its weight. “The idea is not to get into a fight to begin with.”

And yet he’d tackled Allard, one on one. It couldn’t just be to save me. We barely knew each another, and he seemed too sharp to play the hero and get himself killed for a stranger. Van then. In retaliation for Allard’s brutal attack.
That
made sense.

I set my bagel down and approached the bed, eyeing the crossbow. Besides the reluctance to meet my gaze, Torrent seemed to have almost recovered from the wound and whatever had driven him into the corner. He held out the bow.

Wordlessly, I took the weapon. It was lighter than I’d expected, with all manner of intricate pulleys keeping the size down and the arrow velocity high. He’d modified the stock slightly, shortening it, making it more practical to carry with him. “If the idea is not to get into a fight to begin with, what’s the scope for?” The mounted scope was tiny, but if his explanation about deterring enemies was going to hold any weight, he shouldn’t need a scope at all.

A smile teetered on his lips. “For when I start the fight.”

“What’s the draw weight?”

“One hundred sixty-five pounds. Fires three hundred and sixty feet per second.”

“Trigger?”

“Three point five. Too loose and I’ll shoot myself in the foot.” His smile widened as I handed the weapon back. “You know about bows?”

The words were there, ready to tell him about my firearms training, to share something of my past with someone who might appreciate it. But I swallowed all that down and masked the delay behind a wooden smile. “Crossbows? No. A little about firearms, I guess.” I tucked my hands into my pants as his gaze lingered, hinting at unasked questions before breaking away.

Stupid, I shouldn’t have asked anything about the bow. Now he knew I’d had training. I had to tell him something. “I picked some info up, y’know…from Allard.” I’d never seen Allard with a weapon of any kind. It was a lie, like all the other little lies I’d told to keep Del and me safe.

“You seem pretty smart, which begs the question of why you’d do something as crazy as stab Allard without a plan?”

I flinched at the memory of driving the ice shard through Allard’s chest, not because it hurt to recall—the opposite, in fact. The sudden lick of demon desire had my human instincts squirming. “I didn’t think.”

“Clearly.” He busied himself with the bow and coat.

“No, I mean… I didn’t know I was going to do that. It just happened.”
Like, for a second, I wasn’t in control, wasn’t even inside my own body.
I’d blacked out from one second to the next, and in that moment, my demon had acted. That hadn’t happened before. Ever. I kept those thoughts to myself.

He dropped the bow onto the bed and scooped up his coat, swirling it on in one smooth movement. “Your demon?” he asked, carefully.

“Yeah.” I’d screwed up.

“Don’t you have any control without that drug?”

“I always have control.”

“With the drug?”

I moved to a desk and leaned against it, working hard to bury the truth.
Yes, with the drug. Always with the drug,
I wanted to say. He’d probably understand if I told him everything. He looked at me, waiting for the explanation that wouldn’t be coming. “You don’t know anything about me. I don’t know you. It makes things easier if we keep it that way.”

His green eyes narrowed. “What if your demon decides it doesn’t much like me either? Am I going to find an ice dagger in my back?”

Oh, he didn’t need to worry about that. Hurting Torrent was the last thing on my demon mind, behind all the other urges. “That won’t happen.”

“Because you have
control
?”

“Hey.” I straightened. “I wasn’t the one pissing rain all over us last night.”

“That was—” His jaw locked, twitching a muscle in his cheek. “That’s none of your business.”

I’d hit a nerve, and my short-lived anger fizzled away beneath his glare. The quiet got awkward real fast.

He finally scooped up his bow and attached it to his belt. “Your control will get you killed. You’re better off learning how to manage the demon without the drug as an artificial fallback.”

“Yeah well, I didn’t choose…” I trailed off, not wanting to touch any mention of the Institute. I smiled bitterly. It would be easy to talk around him. Too easy.

“We’re half bloods. We don’t get a choice in anything.”

I did. I chose to be here with him instead of running back to Allard with my tail between my legs, instead of running away and leaving my brother behind. “We should find somewhere safe we can hole up for a day while we figure out what to do next.”