Drowning In The Dark: #4 The Veil Series (10 page)

Stefan’s ice armor had long ago dissolved, leaving him somewhat vulnerable, but no less magnificently demon. He frowned, confused, and I laughed harder. It was that or cry.

He eased back, mouth hooking into a lopsided grin. “At least I’m not the only one who’s crazy.”

I snorted, a sure sign I couldn’t control my hilarity, and Stefan spluttered a laugh.

“You have… no… idea.” I managed to say between snorts.

He backed up and shook his demon visage off with a chuckle. Blue jeans and a black tank top made him look almost normal. “You know you faced Wrath back there?” He ran a hand through his damp hair and shook out stubborn ice crystals.

“I did?” I straightened and then barked more laughter. My demon slunk off, disgusted with my emotional outburst. I only laughed harder as I slumped against the wall, exhausted but oh so wonderfully human. My clothes clung to the thin sheen of sweat. I wiped a hand across my forehead. “He was playing with you.”

Stefan balked and brushed a fleck of something off his arm. “I think you’ll find I was playing with him. Until you showed up.”

“Excuse me for trying to save your ass.”

“My ass?” His gaze slid from my head to my toes, sprinkling desire in its wake. A touch of delight glinted in his eyes. He might have closed the meager distance between us had we not been interrupted by a hooded figure emerging from a doorway, aiming the business end of an M16 at me. Beneath the hood, a filthy scarf covered his face, so all I could see was his sharp-eyed glare. He jerked the gun and his chin in unison, indication we should lift our hands, and stood with the innate arrogance of those familiar with guns and how to use them.

Stefan and I stilled. Was this guy for real? He wasn’t an enforcer. They all had rods up their asses. Plus he hid his face. He had to be a rebel, one of the street militia, civilians who thought they knew better than the professionals and usually bought themselves early graves because of it. I lifted my hands to buy time while I tried to read him. Dirty boots, scuffed and torn jeans stained with oil, and a size too big or in fashion, depending on his age.

Another guy, taller, leaner, moved in from the opposite end of the alley. His assault rifle didn’t fit as easily with his spindly frame, but his severe eyes peering through the wrapped scarf left no room for negotiation.

Stefan arched an eyebrow. He was thinking the same thing: amateurs.

“You don’t wanna do this,” I warned, startled by the normal humanity of my words. I was still coming down off my demon high and not exactly grounded. Stefan would be feeling it too: an itch to get back into the fight. These men had no idea they’d trapped monsters in that alley.

“Oh, I think we do, Charley,” the skinny one said.

I knew that voice. “Coleman?”

He tugged down his scarf and smiled tightly. “Nice to see you alive.”

“What the—?” I gawped and lowered my hands. “You’re with the militia?”

He nodded. “I’m not the only one.”

I swung my gaze back to the quiet guy and reassessed my appraisal. The dirty rag covering his face wouldn’t have fooled me for long. Ex-military. You could tell it in his deceptively relaxed stance. Carefully, I eased forward, in front of Stefan, and lifted my gaze, noticing how our captor had tensed his grip on the rifle. “Just know,” I warned, “if you lift that rifle, I’ll bring the fire to this party, and you don’t want that, do you…Ryder?”

R
yder tugged
his scarf down and shrugged back his hood. His gaze rested on me for a few seconds before settling on Stefan. I expected a growl from Stefan but heard only his soft even breathing. Ryder wasn’t a threat to him, not any more.

“Goddammit, Muse. Can’t I do anything without you showing up to piss on my parade?” His words were hard, but his smile was soft.

I puffed out the breath I’d been holding. “You’re with the militia?”

Coleman moved up behind me, sidestepping around Stefan with deserved reverence. “Boston PD’s Special Response Team is what we are. You didn’t think we were going to sit on our hands while the Institute did whatever the hell they pleased, did you?”

I blinked at Coleman and tried to come to terms with the shrewd man standing before me and the ways in which he didn’t match the clean-cut detective I’d helped in the past. Nope. I couldn’t do it. This was Coleman, for hell’s sake, the coffee-drinking, curious detective who’d hired me as a consultant to answer questions about all things demon, the one taking notes about their weak spots, their end-game, and who wanted to know all about Akil and the other princes. Well, maybe the signs that Coleman had been up to something were there. But Ryder?

“The militia?” I asked again.

He grunted. “I reckon I got some explaining to do.” His smile died when he regarded Stefan. “Just so we’re straight, I don’t trust you. I don’t know what you are, but it sure ain’t my partner. If I see one fuckin’ flake of snow where it shouldn’t be, I’ll kill you.”

“You can try.”

I winced and sliced Stefan a frown. He shrugged a shoulder.

Ryder glowered and eased his gun down to his side. “A temporary truce until this shit is over. Agreed?”

I nodded and slid Stefan a glance, suggesting he might like to do the same. He sighed and shifted his weight from one foot to the other, as though considering it. If I knew him, he’d be curious. This was Ryder, the Institute’s
numero uno
enforcer, working incognito for the militia.

“Sure,” Stefan drawled. “But don’t expect me to play nice if you turn that gun on me.”

There, we were all friends. Sort of. In an awkward, Mexican standoff kind of way. Coleman and Ryder escorted us back to their warehouse base. It looked as though the SRT has taken up residence in a recently abandoned call center building, complete with booths. Only these booths were filled with guns and people who evidently knew how to use them. We were greeted with suspicious glances, but the crowd milled around as though we were their own, not two half bloods with enough power between us to level a city. They’d spray-painted protective symbols on the walls, floor and ceiling, which I was grateful for, considering I was having trouble taming my demon instincts, but the markings wouldn’t have any effect on Stefan. Ryder knew that. However, he didn’t know how Stefan had joined the Prince of Hell club. I wasn’t entirely sure how he would react to that news. Frankly, I was surprised he hadn’t already tried to put a bullet in Stefan. As far as I knew, the last time they’d seen each other, Stefan had stabbed me, and I’d effectively died in Ryder’s arms. That sort of thing tends to leave a lasting impression.

“Coffee?”

I beamed at Coleman. “Do you need to ask?” He grinned and set about working a machine, dumping his rifle on the counter beside it.

Stefan hung back, reading the room with his sharp gaze. He saw me watching him and moved closer. His easy stride and relaxed posture utterly belied what he was capable of. “Coleman, you’re taking a big risk bringing us here,” he said, coming right out and saying exactly what I’d been thinking. “You saw us back there, right? You know we’re demon.”

“Half demon.” Coleman raised a plastic cup at Stefan, who declined the offered coffee with a shake of his head. “Tomorrow, we move. We never stay in one place long enough to become a target.”

Stefan scanned the crowd again. The low murmur of dozens of voices created a comforting background hum. His gaze settled on Ryder and lingered as his old friend chatted to a woman, the both of them engrossed in conversation.

Stefan and Ryder had worked together for a long time before I appeared on the scene. Ryder had briefly been charged with Stefan’s ‘rehabilitation,’ and when it became clear Stefan had no intention of reining in his demon, Ryder had been tasked with Stefan’s termination. He should have shot Stefan on sight. Ryder was not acting like the Ryder I’d come to appreciate as a friend, and Stefan knew it too.

Coleman dumped a load of sugar into my coffee, remembering I liked it sweet. He handed it to me. “What were you doing on the street back there? We caught the radio chatter and knew a demon battle was in progress, but when we arrived on-scene, the enforcers were already there. The fog rolled in, and we couldn’t make out who was fighting who.”

I recalled how Stefan had plucked a sniper’s round out of the air before it could smash through my skull. “I’m not entirely sure who was fighting who either.” So much for the Institute accepting my offer of help. They’d gotten me out of their facility—probably with the intention of taking me down once their precious base was a safe distance away.

“Ryder wanted to talk with you, so we stuck around. It’s good to see you, Charley. Just a shame it’s not under better circumstances.” Coleman slouched against the counter and ran a hand down his face. “I can’t believe how bad things are.”

Sipping my coffee, I watched Ryder stroll around a few booths to reach us. Stefan immediately tensed, and the touch of cool energy fizzed against my skin before vanishing under his control.

“Hey,” I hedged, not entirely sure whether I was meant to be happy to see him or if another argument was brewing. “I gather Adam doesn’t know you moonlight for Boston PD?”

“No, and I need to keep it that way.” His gaze wandered to Stefan standing sentinel beside me and then snapped back. “I need to talk with you. Privately.”

I frowned, not entirely sure if Stefan was tame enough to be left in a room filled with people who would kill him if they knew he was a Prince of Hell.

“Go.” Stefan smiled. “I’ll be fine.”

“It’s not you I’m worried about. Don’t go all Elsa on me. No ‘
letting it all go,’
okay?”

“Cross my half-demon heart.” A glimmer of laughter touched his eyes.

I wanted to ask Stefan about Wrath’s words—he’d called me Asmodeus’s daughter, among other things. It appeared I’d been promoted from half-blood whore to a longstanding Prince of Hell’s daughter, and I wanted to know what it meant. “Don’t go anywhere.”

He nodded. “Be quick. We don’t have much time left, and I need to know what you discovered about the Institute’s half bloods.”

“Okay, it’s not good though, so don’t get your hopes up.”

I followed Ryder’s generous gait out of the main floor, up the stairwell, and out onto the roof, where he nodded to a guy and appeared to take his place on watch. Mist spritzed my face, clinging to my hair and cooling my flushed skin. It felt good to be back out in the night air, but it also meant my demon was free again, and her thoughts immediately muddied mine. A penetrating ache seeped from my chest. By the time Ryder and I reached the parapet wall at the edge of the flat roof, I had a hard time keeping the pain off my face.

“I’m sorry.” Ryder leaned against the wall. He crossed his arms. His lips turned down in disgust. “I’ve been an ass. I should have told you. I Just—”

“What’s going on? This isn’t you, Ryder. The Institute is your life.”

“No. It’s not. I make it look that way so nobody gets hurt.”

His shoulders dropped. He looked out over the peaceful city of Boston. The fine breeze feathered his hair across his forehead. From the rooftop, it didn’t look as though the demons were creating chaos in Boston. A siren chirped somewhere. The sound carried gently through the air, but otherwise the city slept.

“I have a daughter. Did you know that? Her name’s Kerry.” I did know but only because Akil had told me. “And a wife. Ex-wife. She’s…better off without me. They both are. But the Institute is threatening me, Muse. Using my daughter as leverage. I’ve questioned Adam for years. His ethics, his double standards. I’ve seen him sanction things… Horrible things. I know what he did to Stefan, and the others. And you. I know a lot more than you think I do. I told myself it was all for a good reason, but that became a lie over a year ago.” He sighed. “They threatened me after I shot Dawn, said they’d take my daughter away if I didn’t follow their goddamn rules.” Ryder sucked in a deep breath. “Coleman came to me right after his partner, Detective Hill, was attacked by Damien, and you went missing. He demanded that something be done and wouldn’t take no for an answer. That’s when he told me about the PD’s Special Response Team. I should have told Adam. I didn’t.”

I’d been so certain I knew Ryder. But he had secrets too, secrets I hadn’t earned the right to know. An alien burn smoldering somewhere deep inside quickened my breath. Damien awakening. I winced and squeezed my eyes closed, swallowing back acid. It wouldn’t be long now. Hours, if I could hold him back that long.

“Muse?”

“Yeah, I’m good.” I smiled brightly. There was nothing Ryder could do, and he had enough to deal with. “I had no idea, Ryder. About any of this.”

“I’ve always doubted Adam, but I’m a soldier. It’s not my place to question the likes of him. I might have let it go, but then he put me in charge of terminating Stefan. His own goddamn son, Muse.” He spat a disgusted curse. “I joined SRT right after. I know Stefan’s gone. I know that. But I just can’t do it.” Ryder grimaced, and his face cracked with despair. I struggled to keep from throwing my arms around him. “If he wants his son dead, the bastard can do it himself.”

“It’s okay.” I loved Ryder all the more in that moment. I’d always respected his stance with the Institute. He never pulled any punches, and was always straight with me, with everyone. It takes balls of steel to sacrifice it all for the
right thing,
and what he was doing here, with the SRT, protecting his family, that was the right thing.

“It really ain’t. There’s something else I gotta tell you. It’s been tearing me up. I hate what I did. Every time I saw you, I wanted to tell you. Every time, Muse. I had to push you away. I didn’t have a choice.” He held my gaze, his lips twisting, and then looked away. “You can’t do anything with this info. If Adam knows I’ve told you, he’ll… I don’t know what he’ll do to my kid, but I can’t risk her, Muse. Promise me.”

My heart fluttered. What the hell was he about to say? I didn’t have anything left to ruin, so why was he looking at me as though terrified of what I was going to do. “Of course. I know we’ve hit a rough patch, but you’re the best friend I’ve got. I would never put your family at risk. I promise you that.”

He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and rubbed his hands together. “Shit…” Hesitating, he settled his gaze on me one last time, before straightening and breathing in, as though drawing strength. “The little half blood girl you fought so hard to save. She ain’t dead.”

I blinked, not sure I’d heard him right. “What do you mean?”

“I mean Dawn’s alive. I reckon they’re keeping her locked deep in the facility.”

“But…” Dawn was alive? How was that possible? “I saw you shoot her,” I mumbled. “I saw her die.” When I wasn’t dreaming of darkness, I dreamed of her death, over and over and in precise detail.

Ryder shook his head. “I grazed her with an anti-elemental round, just like Adam told me to. They wanted the world to believe she’d died. The enforcers took her away. She’s alive, Muse.”

I reached for the wall and stumbled. “Oh, my God.” The little girl I’d failed. Dawn, who nobody but me had tried to save. A pawn in Akil’s game to rattle the Institute. A weapon. I couldn’t process it. She was a killer, but she had deserved more from those around her, those who knew better.

“I wanted to tell you, but they threatened my kid. You can’t do anything, Muse. Please. If Adam suspects you know…”

She was alive and in the hands of the Institute, probably in the same place as the other half-bloods. I’d been so close to her. In the same building. “Is she okay? Have they hurt her?” My voice floated, distant and detached.

“I don’t know.” Ryder stood and jammed his hands into his pockets. “I’m so damn sorry, Muse.”

I nodded, not really hearing him. “It’s okay. It’s not your fault.”

“You won’t say anything?”

“No. I…” I offered him what I hoped to be a reassuring smile. “I won’t say anything.”

Ryder hesitated, clearly wanting to say more. The background city noises ebbed and flowed like the back and forth thoughts in my mind.

He sniffed and pushed off the wall. “I should get back.”

I bobbed my head. “Sure, just give me a minute, okay?” As he left me alone on the roof, I sunk to a sitting position on the wall and bowed my head. Dawn was alive. That was good, wasn’t it? I’d tried to save her, but after her death, I’d come to realize my actions had been misguided. Dawn was chaos all wrapped up in the body and mind of a nine-year-old girl. She’d killed enforcers and admitted she liked it. She’d pulled a Prince of Hell apart. Even Akil was afraid of her. And now the Institute had her. They’d try to mold her, shape her, like they did an early Stefan. Given how destructive she could be, the Institute had one hell of a weapon. Could they control her? And Akil was there… Oh. My thoughts exploded. Akil was there! He knew. The bastard knew. She had to be the reason he was there. Was he there to save her or kill her? He’d already admitted she frightened him. He’d ushered her toward her death once already. I had to go back. But how? Adam wasn’t going to let me back inside.

“Sister.”

I snapped my head up and froze. Pure, unfiltered terror locked my body down, muting my thoughts as I stared at the horrible beauty of my brother’s demon form. Shadows rippled across his pale body, like the marbled effect of a tiger moth’s wings. His long, moon-white hair trailed over his shoulders and licked at his smooth chest. He was naked, like all demons, apart from two sword belts hanging low on his slim hips. His deadly velvet-wings hung relaxed behind him. He made a devastatingly beautiful demon. How could I admire him and fear him at the same time?