Chaos Rises: A Veil World Urban Fantasy (18 page)

Torrent’s damaged wings snapped from his back, and he let out an enraged roar that sent half the crowd scattering. I stayed, glued to the spot, buffeted by those who ran, and watched the Institute open fire. The bullets smacked into him, punching him back. He fell.

“Wrap this up!” someone bellowed.

I couldn’t move.

I’d betrayed Torrent already, and he’d paid for it. He’d told me he didn’t know who he was before the Fall. The demon in the picture, that wasn’t him. He was different now. And I believed him. I was his friend, wasn’t I?

I couldn’t leave.

Ice sparked across the road surface. A woman to my right let out a ragged scream and scrambled away. “Demon!” Institute troops swiveled my way, and my six months spent in hiding fell apart.

I spread my stance, released my demon, and yanked on every cool spot I could find. Power pulsed over me, stripping back my humanity, revealing the demon beneath.

More screams.

I pulled harder, pushing my element through me, over me, and gritting sharp teeth, I went to work. The black-clad troops abandoned Torrent, still sprawled on the steps, to take up positions behind their vehicles. Ice sung behind me. My wings fanned open. Sunlight gnawed on my cold, but it also refracted through the ice, painting the street, the vans, the troops in jagged, brilliant light. Kinda hard to hit the demon when she’s blinding.

Kill them.

I twitched, and the madness hooked in. Ice danced around me, punching through their vehicles, through their Institute insignia.
More.
Shots fired, but I crafted shields and clutched them in front of me. Their PC34A darts tanged off, useless. Bullets chipped and punched into my ice, but it held.

More!

Yes. I could let go of everything. I could push power through my veins and rid myself of PC34A.
No, no! Not yet.
I needed it to get to the prince. I had to stay in control. Control was everything. Control the demon. The power. The rage, the delight, the
revenge
. I saw myself running through the maze, ice my protector, my weapon. They’d made me their weapon.
Now watch me work.

I tore open the back of a van. “PC-Thirty-Four,” I snarled at the two occupants. Without body armor, they stared back at me, wide eyed and terrified. A dark patch bloomed on the pants of the guy to my right. Human fear cloyed the air, rich and heady. I swiveled my gaze to the guy who’d pissed himself. “Injectors. Now.” The depth of my voice rumbled the panels.

A gunshot boomed, and ice chips blasted from my right wing. A twinge of pain sparked down my right side. I shook it off. “Injectors! Now!”

“Here, here…take them… Don’t kill us.”

The guys in my van tossed me a bag. I snatched a handful of injectors from inside and narrowed my eyes at them.
Kill them. Kill them all.
Teeth chattering, I pulled back, slammed the doors closed, and iced them up then did the same with anything that moved, casting ice out like a net, catching anything that ran, anything that considered firing on me, anything that moved. It wouldn’t keep them down for long. LA’s relentless sunshine would make sure of that.

Torrent had rolled onto his side and was trying to stand. I shook off my demon, shoved the injectors into my pocket, scooped him up by his arm, and dragged him along. He swung his unfocused gaze around us at the ice carnage. “Whoa.”

“C’mon.” I smiled. And despite the throb in my arm, a delicious ripple of pleasure writhed through me.

“You could have left me...” He wasn’t smiling now. If anything, he looked angry, like I
should
have left him. Maybe that was all he’d been used to, being the worthless half blood. But he wasn’t worthless.

“You’re welcome.”

We hurried around a fallen Institute solider whose leg was clamped in ice. “I know you,” he said.

I kept my head down and doubled my pace.

Whether he’d seen the branding or recognized my face, it didn’t matter. It was done.

“Gem, ugh, I’m hit...” Torrent hissed and flinched against the pain. “I can’t—”

I pulled him along faster. “We can’t stop.” With my demon so close to the surface, I saw the power shifting inside him, the beautiful ripple of blues and greens, and that honesty, so raw in his eyes, asking for help. “Hold on... Just hold on...”

W
e didn’t make
it as far as the pier. The bike traveled fast enough for the streets to blur. A shudder ran through Torrent, and the world tipped sideways. Instincts wrapped ice around me, but I still hit the road hard. The impact jarred through my already wounded shoulder, snapped down my spine, and skated down my back. I slid to a halt against a curb, ears ringing, ice melting, struggling to see through the pain and hear through ringing ears.

Torrent.

“It’s a demon!” A guy’s high-pitched shriek sounded to my right, slicing through my fragile head. A car door slammed, and tires squealed again.

I snarled and wished I hadn’t when my head pounded around the sound. I tried to roll onto my front and get my legs under me. After several failed attempts, I managed to stagger upright.

Torrent, where was Torrent? I swung my gaze around. My stomach heaved, and the street swirled in my vision. I’d broken something inside. If I turned full demon, I could shield myself from the worst of the pain, but this was LA, and I’d collected quite the crowd. They brandished cellphones, snapping pictures of the ice-demon stumbling along the street.
Fabulous
, I grumbled silently. If the Institute hadn’t identified me at the precinct, they’d soon find my demon face all over social media.

I saw the blood pooling in the gutter just like in the print. So much blood. So red. And there lay Torrent on his back in torn clothes, skin grazed down to bone.
Oh, no.
I made an ungainly lope forward. The street shifted, or my legs did, and I fell, knees cracking into the road. If I could see straight—think straight—I could get to him, but the road, the street, the people, they all slid sideways out of reach.

A car rolled to a halt, hiding Torrent’s broken body. I pushed up, mumbling his name, saw legs, and felt arms scoop me up. I smelled demon and instantly relaxed:
not Institute
. Allard’s guards.

I drifted somewhere between awake and asleep. Muffled voices mingled with Allard’s short, direct orders.

I must have fallen unconscious, because the next words I heard were, “Get out.” Joseph grabbed my elbow, hauling me out of the car. Instincts had me bristling ice, snapping it over his touch. He snarled, low and deadly, and shoved me back against the hood of the car. “Allard will deal with you.”

Allard. Where was he? I blinked into the sunlight, lifting my face into a warm, ocean breeze. There, walking across the sand, toward the surf. I blinked again and again, not sure what my addled brain was telling me. He carried a body in his arms.

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?”