Ties That Bind: A Muse Urban Fantasy (The Veil Series Book 5) (12 page)

“
R
emarkable
.” Akil spoke so softly that I almost didn’t hear him. He stood, cool and calm, beside me on the sidewalk outside Adam’s house. At least, I assumed it was Adam’s house. It was difficult to make it out beneath the foot-thick layer of frost. Icicles hung like daggers over the doorway. Cresting waves had frozen where they’d crashed against the façade. Even the manicured lawn and parked car had crystalized beneath a blanket of ice. Considering the rest of the street was frost-free beneath the amber glow from flickering streetlights, I could safely assume this was a demon incident, and I had my likely suspect.

“Maybe you should—”

Akil sliced me a predatory smile. “There’s no need to concern yourself. This is not the Prince of Wrath’s doing.”

“One, I’m not concerned about you. Two, how do you know Stefan didn’t do this?” It sure looked like Stefan’s work, and then there was the fact this was his father’s house. Stefan had been quite clear regarding what he’d do to Adam.

“I hear Wrath, especially as we’re both this side of the veil. He’s some distance away. The others, through the veil, are more difficult to locate and decipher.”

Prince FM.
I wondered how that worked.
Something to do with the flow of chaos, perhaps.
I wondered if Akil knew what I’d done to Stefan. “Is he okay?”

Akil closed his eyes and tilted his head. “He isn’t in danger or distressed.” He blinked open his eyes and studied me, waiting for the explanation he wasn’t going to get.

At least Stefan was okay. Li’el had kept his word. Well, wasn’t the Prince of Pride a bundle of surprises?

“Did something happen?”

“No,” I tore my gaze away and immediately winced, knowing Akil would see that lie with his eyes closed. “Nothing. It’s none of your business. Forget it. We need to get inside this house.”

“The precise application of an element, such as this...” He turned his attention back to the ice sculpture. He gestured at the splash of ice branching out from a downpipe. “It takes experience and delicate control.”

“If this isn’t Stefan’s doing, then whose? There’s only one other ice—Oh!” I bolted for the door, skidded a few times, but made it up the steps. “Adam—Adam, are you in there? Can you hear me?” I gestured for Akil to follow. “We need him alive. He’s the only one who knows where Dawn is.”

Immune to all sense of urgency, Akil sauntered up the steps and sidestepped the icicles. “He’s alive, somewhere close, on the ground floor. I can dispatch the ice, but I’m prevented from entering without an invitation.”

“I can.”

“The anti-elemental glyphs will subdue your heat. You’ll be vulnerable.”

Me? Vulnerable? I flashed a bright smile. “I think you have me confused with the old Muse.”

“Do you know the demon responsible?”

“Yes.” I pressed my palms to the ice smothering the door and pushed the heat through my touch. “Yukki Onna.”

“The snow witch,” Akil confirmed, sliding his gaze back to the door.

“Adam’s ex.”

He splayed his hand next to mine and let loose a pulse of heat that vaporized the ice and scorched the door. He knocked, I guess because barging in would have been rude. “I’ll be close by.”

I nodded and gave the door a shove. The inside was ice-free, probably due to those anti-elemental symbols, but Yukki didn’t need ice to go to town on Adam. The sight greeting me in his living room was proof of that. Blood. The metallic smell saturated the air, as did other odors I didn’t want to dwell on. Adam sat hunched in a chair, his back to me, wrists tied behind him. Patches of dried blood stained his shirt and plastered it against his skin. I couldn’t see his face, but I could hear his strained breathing. At least he was alive.

“Muse.” I turned my head toward Yukki’s voice.

She sat crossed-legged on the table at the back of the room, naked, but for a gauze-like gown. Kira-Kira glinted bloodied and dull across her lap. I’d seen her fight lesser demons. She was as ruthless and efficient as that blade. Dried blood peppered her pale body. Her cat-like demon eyes sparkled.

“You cannot have him.” She hopped off the table, light as a ballet dancer, and strode through Adam’s toppled piles of paperwork. Her waterfall of white hair trailed between her shoulders blades. She was stunning, and deadly, like winter poured into the body of a woman.

Yukki pressed the tip of her sword into Adam’s shoulder. He grunted and jerked, pulling tight on his restraints, but he wasn’t going anywhere. Yukki’s malicious smile chilled me to the core. She gripped the blade and circled around Adam, twisting the sword with her. His hoarse cry turned my stomach.

She stopped in front of him, snatched at his chin, and jerked his head up. “This one is mine until I am done with him.”

Who was I to argue? Adam deserved every cut she gave him. Another time, I might have brought popcorn, but I needed Adam alive. He couldn’t die in that chair, no matter how much I sympathized with Yukki.

She saw my reluctance. “No. He is mine. He took my bloodkin from me—my son!”

Adam decided that moment was as good as any to plead for his life. “Muse, please, don’t let—” Yukki backhanded him. The crack snapped like gunfire and whipped his head around. His bloodshot eyes found me standing by the doorway and locked on. He knew he would die here.

Why did the universe insist on me being his hero? I didn’t want to save him. He didn’t deserve it. He’d treated me like a number. He’d experimented on his own son and locked him away from the world. He’d lied. He’d sent his own daughter in to spy on a Prince of Hell. Adam had repeatedly tried to kill both me and Stefan. I wasn’t sure if there was any part of Adam Harper that was good. He’d told me he was doing it for the right reasons. For the Institute. For Boston. Well, the Institute was dead. His daughter, Nica, was dead. Boston would soon be a ruin. The only good thing left in Adam’s life was Stefan, and he couldn’t even see his son behind all the prejudice. Adam was broken inside. But the son of a bitch had to live long enough for us to find Dawn.

I sighed. “You can’t kill him.”

“Oh, I do not intend to kill him. Yet. I will use him as he used me and mine. I have waited a long time for this moment, for the veil to weaken so I might find him, for my son to be free of his control. I will not squander my revenge.” She pointed the sword at me. “You cannot have him. Nobody can have him.”

Find Adam. Get Dawn. Save the world.
Why wasn’t anything simple? I didn’t want to fight Yukki. She wouldn’t hold back. There was murder in her eyes, and if I got in her way, she’d try to kill me. I wasn’t entirely sure if she was immortal, but I suspected she was one of the higher demons. She hadn’t aged, which was a good indication of immortality. If we went toe to toe, without our elements, she’d kick my ass.

“I know you have Greed outside,” she hissed. “He cannot stop me. No higher elemental may enter this home, this place of stability, without an invitation. And no human cares enough about this man to save him. I know you do not, Muse. I see the truth in your eyes. You want him hurt”—She jabbed the blade into Adam’s thigh and grinned as he groaned—“as much as I wish it. I will not share in his pain. He is mine.”

“I don’t want to share. In fact, you can do what you like with him, but I need to borrow him—”

“No.”

“Just for a little bit, then you can have him back and turn him into sushi for all I care.”

“No.”

She wasn’t going to let him out of her sight. In my haste to get away from my apartment and Akil, I’d left my gun behind. Adam would have a weapon somewhere, but he couldn’t tell me where while Yukki hovered over him. “Just… Just…wait here.” She wasn’t going anywhere. “I’ll be right back.”

Outside, Akil leaned against a flickering streetlamp, hand tucked casually in his pants pocket. His stoic gaze tracked my every step toward him. “Well?”

“Adam’s alive, but Yukki has him. I can’t talk her down…”

Akil pushed off the streetlight and squared his shoulders. “There’s a silent question in your statement.”

“But I know someone who can.”

The beginnings of a frown upset Akil’s indifferent face. “You want me to collect Wrath?”

“Not necessarily. Is he close? Can I drive there?”

Akil’s frown cut deeper. “He is on the city’s outskirts. I can find him and bring him here in the time it would take you to procure a vehicle. That is, if he’ll agree to come. He and I…”

“Yes, I know. You aren’t the best of buddies.”

“That’s quite the understatement.”

I couldn’t argue that. “Look, he’s not as strong as he was. After you did your grand exit on the battlefield, I tried to kill Dawn, she lashed out at me. Stefan got in the way. She tore through him and ripped out much of his power. As he is, I doubt he’ll attack you.” There was also the fact I’d poured raw lust into him. Now was not the time to explain
that
to Akil. “He’ll wait until he has his mojo back.”

“That’s comforting,” Akil said, deadpan.

“Besides, he fought with you at the frontline. He might have reconsidered his view of you.”

“You do understand the meaning of the word
wrath
?”

“Oh, for hell’s sake Akil, would you stop thinking beyond your own ego and consider the bigger picture here? Yukki is killing Adam. We need him to find Dawn. Stefan is the only person Yukki will listen to, and even then, it’s a long shot.”

“And what if Stefan decides to kill Adam?”

“He won’t. He’s a half blood. Half bloods can be reasoned with.”

I knew I had him when he sighed. “Fine. But he’ll not listen to reason from me.”

“I’ll convince him.” I held out my hand, ready for the reality hop that would deliver us to Stefan. Akil treated my thin smile with suspicion. “Bigger picture. He’ll get it.”

Akil closed his hand around mine, and almost immediately the street blurred and shattered. Worry gnawed at my thinly veiled bravado. Stefan would listen to reason, wouldn’t he?

T
he street
outside Stefan’s workshop had recovered since I’d had my elemental breakdown and almost burned everything to the ground. Ryder’s house bore a few singe marks, not surprising, considering Val and his half bloods had laid siege to the place. The netherworld had retreated, and there were signs that Boston was trying to salvage some normalcy from the rubble. New block work, scaffolding, and fresh paint gave the street a hopeful vibe, even in the pre-dawn light. I felt a little like a criminal returning to the scene of the crime, especially as a few doors down, I’d tried to kill Stefan, and had he not been a prince, I’d have probably succeeded.

Stefan’s workshop door was up. I stepped into the orange light spilling across the sidewalk. Radio chatter talked about the recovery effort, and how the people of Boston had rallied around one another.

Akil hung back. We shared a glance. I knew what he was thinking. This was almost too calm when compared to the chaos of the last few weeks.

Stefan emerged from the door at the back of the workshop, wiping his hands on a rag. His casual jeans and old shirt bore splashes of white paint. His stride faltered a beat, and his gaze slid from me to Akil and back to me. I wouldn’t say he smiled exactly, but he didn’t scowl either. He strode on, meeting me at the workshop threshold, with no hint of turmoil or emotion on his face. “Nice coat,” he drawled, wiping paint from his hands.

A smudge of paint blurred across his cheek and splatters dashed his hair. It was so normal, so domestic, that I couldn’t help smiling. Maybe this was going to be easier than I’d thought.

Stefan jerked his chin in Akil’s direction. “You have a stalker.”

I didn’t turn to see how Akil reacted. I hoped he didn’t react at all. Besides, I didn’t want to look away from Stefan. When I’d last seen him, he’d barely been able to stand. Now though, he looked good. The permanent scowl had vanished, as had many of the sharp lines. A playful glimmer danced in his startling eyes. “I figured it was too much to hope that the Prince of Greed would stay dead.” The slant of his smile suggested humor, but I knew otherwise. He meant those words.

“You can’t keep a good demon down,” Akil said.

Stefan laughed, properly laughed, not a care in the world laughter that echoed down the empty street and skipped my withered heart. I should have known it was going too well. In the space of a heartbeat, Stefan’s laughter cut off. He plucked the Desert Eagle from the small of his back and bore down on Akil in two strides.

Akil simply smiled in that infuriating way he did when faced with death. “You’d have a better chance of hitting me if you shot me in the back,” he said, no doubt keen to rouse the memory of Stefan doing exactly that.

Stefan held the muzzle of the gun less than an inch from Akil’s forehead. If he pulled the trigger, he wouldn’t miss. A Desert Eagle round would shatter Akil’s skull, as it had my brother’s. I’d only just convinced Mammon to resurrect the bastard. These two throwing down on the street was not going to solve any of our immediate problems.

“Stefan, stop.”
Please be less like your mother and more like the man I know you can be.

“Why?” His aim held steady. Not a quiver. No doubts in his mind.

There were too many reasons to list on the street, too many arguments to be had. “Because I’ve asked you to.”

His fingers rippled on the grip. His lips twisted. Murder gleamed in his eyes as it had in his mother’s gaze. Akil waited. Neither of them had called their demon aspects. This was personal.

“Muse,” Akil said. “Now would be a good time to explain the bigger picture to Wrath.”

Stefan jerked the gun forward, pressing it against Akil’s head. “You know this is coming,” he hissed. “You know I’m going to be the one to put a bullet in your head.”

“But not here,” Akil replied, the picture of calm.

Stefan stepped back, flicked the safety on, and tucked the gun against his back. He turned, scooped up the rag, and returned to his workshop.

Okay.
Murder averted. Briefly. I sucked in a deep breath. I must have been insane to consider getting the two of them to work together, even for a few minutes. Akil’s I-told-you-so look didn’t help. “Wait here.”

I found Stefan in the backroom of his workshop, where once he’d stored enough demon-killing weapons to start a small war. Now it had undergone something of a transformation. He’d painted the walls and erected shelving. A little seed of hope sprouted. He was getting a life back. That meant everything to the likes of hopeless half bloods.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” He popped the lids back on cans of paint and dumped a roller in a bucket of water. “You brought him here for a reason.” He tossed the rag onto a workbench, leaned back against the edge, and braced his hands either side of him. This was the first time we’d been alone since I’d poured lust into him, and I couldn’t be the only one feeling the unease stretch tight between us.

Might as well just come right out and say it.
“Yukki has Adam.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“You do?”

He crossed his paint-splattered arms. “When Li’el brought me back, she was here, looking for someone to blame.” Lifting his gaze, he said, “I told her where to find Adam.”

“She’s killing him.”

“It’s about time someone did.” His gaze skittered, and my prickling unease grew.

“Yesterday, I’d have agreed with you.” He couldn’t look me in the eye. I pinched my bottom lip between my teeth and tucked my thumbs over my waistband.
I didn’t mean to hurt you.
The words were there, on the tip of my tongue, but fear held them back. Maybe we could pretend it hadn’t happened. It was a dream—no, a nightmare. It wasn’t us, wasn’t me.
I’m not that monster.
“We need him,” I said quietly. “We need Dawn if we’re going to restore the veil, and Adam knows where she is.”

Stefan took my words on board and sighed. “That changes things.”

“Yeah.” I swallowed and looked away, seeing only the memory of how I’d pinned him down and turned him into that twisted lust-poisoned thing
.
Please, don’t let it ruin us.
My gaze flicked back to him. His eyes were bright, healed, but pinched with doubt. If I didn’t say something now, this unspoken wound between us would fester.

“Look, about what happened… I…” His frown twitched, deepened. “I’m sorry,” I babbled, afraid to stop. “I didn’t know how to control it. I used too much lust or something, and I… I didn’t mean to hurt you… Not like that. God, it was awful—” Words failed me. I’d seen him, trying to claw through the shackles, the naked need on his face, his body. Guilt burned in my throat.

“Stop.” He threaded his fingers into his hair and pulled the platinum locks back from his face, accentuating the savage downturn of his lips. “I know. It’s okay. It happened. We’re okay. We
will
be okay.”

I inched closer, but immediately tension strummed through his body, as though expecting an attack—from me. “You know that wasn’t me, the real me. I would never use you like that. If there had been another way—”

A gentle smile lightened his lips. “It’s okay. I… I don’t blame you. I made you do it. There wasn’t any other way.”

But that didn’t heal the damage. “How can I fix this?”

“Time, I think.” He dropped his hands to his sides. “I just need time. When Asmodeus got inside my head, Muse, he showed me things, about you. Ugly, untrue things, I know, but…” Stefan struggled with the words. “And then, when we… I er…” He pressed a hand to his chest, and I wasn’t sure if it was because he was hurting or because of the memory of the burns I’d given him. A delicate smile fluttered across his lips. “It will be okay. I promise. Just give me time.”

Time. The one thing I didn’t have. “Okay.” All I wanted to do was throw my arms around him, but that wasn’t going to happen. Not yet. He’d been trapped at the mercy of my twisted father and then dealt a maddening dose of lust. He needed time, and that would have to be enough.

“I er…” He winced. “What I did—tried to do…” His lips twisted around a grimace. “You know I would never hurt you.”

“I do know.”

A touch of hope widened his eyes. “We’re good?”

“Yup.” Sometime in all of this, I’d perfected a face that told the people around me that everything was going to be all right. A shallow mask. Inside, I wondered if I’d damaged our fragile love beyond repair.
Half bloods don’t get happy endings.
“We still have that date…”

“We do.” His smiled bloomed. “We’ve earned it.”

“When this is over.”

“Definitely.”

“Good.” We’d talked. Got it out there. That had to be enough. For a little while. I cleared my throat and forced all the angst to the back of my mind where I could deal with it later. Right now, we had a job to do. “So here’s the rundown. I’ve spent the last few netherworld days trying to outmaneuver my father and the Dark Court, bargaining with the King of Hell, playing with lesser beasts, plucking Mammon’s soul out of me—”

“Good job—”

“Thanks—To find Dawn and dump her in the netherworld, so she might be able to save the rest of us. And now there’s one badass mother of an ice-demon beating on Adam, which I could totally get on board with once we use the bastard to get what we want. But she won’t listen to me, so I had to hitch a ride with Akil to get here in the hope that you’ll help.”

He smiled warmly. “You know what you’re doing wrong?”

“I’m not doing anything wrong. I’m doing everything I can.”

“Sure you are.” He shoved off the bench and stopped close enough for me to feel the tug of his element. He flicked my coat collar up. “This coat looks better on you than it ever did on me.” I lifted a hand to lay it gently on his chest, but he backed up, shying away. “You’re trying to do everything alone. You’re not alone anymore, Muse. I’ll always have your back.”

I gulped and found my throat painfully tight. When all this was over, I’d lock him in my apartment with a few days supply of ice cream, and we wouldn’t resurface again until we’d created new memories, ones that would stifle the horror of those summoned by lust.

“C’mon.” Stefan hooked a smile onto his lips, his own type of mask. “Before my demon mother kills my bastard father.”

“What about Akil?”

There were things he wanted to say. I could see it in his eyes, the pain, the despair, but he kept those thoughts to himself. “Just don’t ask me to trust him.”