Ties That Bind: A Muse Urban Fantasy (The Veil Series Book 5) (9 page)

“Do you believe we are capable of change?”

“No. Chaos doesn’t change.”

“And what of Mammon?”

Clever. I walked on, but I’d already hesitated too long. “Mammon was different.”

“Ah, so he can change, your lover, but not the rest of us. Does it make you feel better to believe the lies you tell yourself?”

“You don’t know me or what I had with Ma—Akil.”

“Child, you are perhaps thirty-something human-years old, and already, you know everything. How wonderful for you.”

Li’el’s gilded sarcasm was getting old. “Fine. Tell me what I don’t know.” I grumbled, feet stomping ever deeper into the mud.

“Akil was but one facet of Mammon, the body he crafted for himself, the words on his tongue, the touch of his fingers. It is lies, a beautiful deception.”

I scoffed. “I know that.”

“Of course you do. You know everything.”

I stopped and lifted my gaze. We had perhaps an hours walk to go. We would make it by nightfall. And here was the Prince of Pride, twittering to me about change. What exactly did he want from me? Slicing my glare behind me revealed Li’el standing on the mud bank, looking every part the beautiful deception he spoke of.

“Mammon was as old as the earth beneath your feet,” he said. “He devoted his existence to greed. Nothing would be denied him. That which he could not possess, he stole. He was a liar and a cheat. The humans called me the trickster. He found it amusing that they labeled me as such when he was more worthy of that name. You cannot tell me this does not sound like him.”

“I know what Mammon is.”

“Then you must be aware his vessel is a trap, as is mine.”

“Yes.”

“I meant what I said. I will follow you, but I asked that you do not restore him.”

And here was the crux. Li’el peered back at me, his body nonchalant, but his eyes were a swirl of gray. “You are enemies.” I kept my tone level and direct.

“All of us are enemies. We have lived long lives. It is easier to betray than remain loyal when you have an immortal lifetime of deception.” He sighed. “You carry his soul. Do not deny it. I sense his element in you.”

I took a leaf out of Akil’s book and skirted the truth. “Mammon changed. Things happened in Boston. He is different.”

“It is lies.”

The Akil who’d tried to force me back to the netherworld had been a lying bastard, but the Akil who’d told me he was alarmed to find himself caring, the Akil who’d saved me from going nuclear outside the Institute and lost the half bloods in the process, the Akil who’d blocked Dawn’s wicked power and sacrificed himself doing so… That wasn’t the same demon Li’el knew. “We will have to agree to disagree.”

Darkness flooded Li’el’s eyes. His upper lip pulled tight over sharp teeth. “You are making a mistake.”

“No, the mistake is yours. He is different, and I will prove it to you.”

“Ahkeel will be your undoing.”

Akil, my undoing? “No demon has the power to be my undoing. If you believe that to be a lie, you’re following the wrong one-winged half blood. I like you, Li’el. Hell knows why. Trust me.”

“Trust…”

“It’s a human thing.” I smiled. “We human females have a way of giving you demons the feels.”

His lashes fluttered as he considered my words, and when I was about to write him off as a lost cause, he nodded once, and then
poofed
away, far enough away that his gaze no longer fluttered across my skin. At least I now knew what Li’el wanted—or didn’t want—and that was Mammon breathing again. They had a history.

I returned to my trek with Jerry’s barren lands ahead, but even as I marched on, I wondered. Akil had led my mother to the slaughter. The Akil I knew would never have done such a thing, not even to protect his life of luxury.
It was before
, I told myself. He’d admitted I’d been the one who changed him. I’d done the impossible and changed chaos. But that didn’t stop a fracture of doubt working its way through my plans.

T
he King
of Hell no longer looked like a backstreet vet. Gone was the muscle-bound human body with its second-skin of tattoos. In its place stood a creature one hundred percent thoroughbred demon. Crocodilian skin served as armor. Claws like scythes tipped long fingers. The tail that lashed behind him carried bunches of spikes, perfect for knocking opponents aside and impaling them. He stood inside a huge stone circle. Each monolith towered over him, and he was by no means small. Three times my demon height with a wingspan that put Mammon’s to shame, Jerry was every part the nightmarish demon from human myths and legends. He looked down his muzzle at me as if he might bite me in two.

What does one say to the King of Hell? I looked up at him and…stared. He’d watched me approach. The neko had long ago scarpered. All around his sanctum, the plain was flat and featureless. Angry skies churned above. I couldn’t have snuck up on him even if I’d wanted to. Standing there, I had to wonder if my father really thought I could deceive the king. He was formidable, although I didn’t get any sense of the elements from him. The symbols that fluttered like moths inches from his skin probably had something to do with that. Those same symbols throbbed like embers inside the stone circle.

Still, he watched me. What did he see? A half blood with one wing or his assassin?

I dropped to a knee, pulled my wing in close, and made myself small—easily done when facing a giant. “Baal, King of Hell, Jeremiah, I come to you as an ally not foe. Permit me to speak with you. I believe…” I wet my lips, or tried to, but my heat banished the moisture. “We have a common goal.” Flicking my gaze up, I saw that he still watched. As far as I could tell, he hadn’t moved at all. “To restore the veil.”

Baal laughed, and my little heart stuttered. The depth of the sound, the luscious roll, like honey, swept me up in its magic and wrapped me in serenity. Before I realized I’d moved, I’d dropped to both knees and bowed my head so low I could have curled up on the earth and fallen asleep. Baal’s laughter disarmed me. An urge to throw myself at his feet almost broke me. And he did all that without the elements. No wonder the princes hadn’t yet fought him. He’d probably turned them all to mush as soon as they got within a few strides of the stones.

“I have no allies here, half-blood deceiver.” His words shook the ground like thunder. Baal turned away. His magnificent wings swept the air behind him, blasting me with dust in their wake.
Like dragon wings,
my awe-muted mind remarked. The symbols took flight—startled like a flock of birds—and resettled into an aura around his marvelous form.

“No allies among the princes,” I said. “But I am not one of them.”

“No? Mother of Destruction, Greed’s Minion, Human Pretender, Daughter of Lust. Half Blood Whore.”

Climbing to my feet, hands fisted at my sides, I growled, “I am not a human pretender.” Baal’s chuckle almost dropped me back to the ground. “Stop that.” He toured the inside of his circle, his stride easy, gait leisurely. He reminded me of a shark cruising around the aquarium. Was that was his sanctum was? A cage? Did the symbols keep him in as well as keeping the princes out? “I came here to help you.”

“And what is it you want in return?” He slid his crocodile eyes to me. The pupil narrowed to a razor-thin vertical slit, slicing through my bravado to reveal a heady dose of fear.

“You know me, Jerry. You helped me. I fought with you on the battlefield.” His tour was bringing him back toward me. With every step, his glare burned, but not with recognition. Did he truly not remember? “Mammon stood beside you. You rallied a demon army—”

“Many demons perished at your whim, Destruction. You slaughter with enviable efficiency. Old titles die. New titles are born. You are the Deathbringer, the Demonslayer. Would you cleanse our kind from this land?” He let the question hang in the air before saying, “You have it in you to rule. The netherworld listens when destruction talks.”

An odd sense of pride swelled inside me. “Perhaps, but I don’t want to. I don’t want any of this.”

“What do you want?” He stopped before me. Two great upright stones stood sentinel beside him.

What did I want? The veil restored. Boston to go back to the way it was before the netherworld poisoned it. I wanted to go home, to kick back and watch sports with Ryder. I wanted to catch a movie with Stefan. To paint my nails outlandish colors with Lacy. I wanted a life, a real life, not one manufactured by Adam and the Institute and certainly not the life of a mass-murderer in the netherworld. “I want to be free. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. My life is a cage like your stones. We are not meant for cages, you and I.”

Baal knelt on one knee on the earth between the stones and leaned closer. He fanned his great wings behind him to maintain his balance but didn’t cross the perimeter of the circle. “The veil cannot be permanently restored without a queen by my side.”

Did he mean me? No, I couldn’t. It would mean leaving it all behind. The netherworld wasn’t my home. It never would be. “I… I…” I can’t, but I would. What was my life for that of Earth? Of course I would sacrifice it all. I was human, wasn’t I?

“Not you, Muse.” Baal’s long smile curled into reptilian cheeks. “You are, and will always be, destruction.”

“Oh.”

He huffed a laugh. This one didn’t turn my legs to Jello. “I’ll accept your allegiance, little half blood, but only when you reveal your true reason for being here.”

“The princes think I—“

“Not that. I know they sent you. Their elements linger outside my
cage
. They believe you more demon than human, but I know otherwise. There is another reason you have come to me besides your heroic motives.”

I blinked up at the King of Hell. His teeth would make short work of my vulnerable mortal hide. He could crush me in one of those hands. His claws would gut me before I could draw my fire. And yet I didn’t get any sense of malevolence from him. I never had. Jerry was one of the good guys. I could trust him. “I need you to bring back Akil.”

Baal lifted his chin and turned his cheek to me, eyeing me with one wide yellow eye. “Deceiver indeed.” He held out a calloused hand. Claw tips glinted.
Come into my parlor, said the spider to the fly
.
I didn’t hesitate. The time for hesitations had been back in the motel room when Ryder had asked me if I was returning to Boston. I planted my itty-bitty hand in the King of Hell’s palm, let him curl his huge claws round my forearm, and stepped inside his circle.

“
W
hat is this
?” My teeth made quick work of the chargrilled meat.

“Scorsi.” Jerry reached into the spit-roasted carcass we’d propped over a campfire. Night had gobbled up the land quickly. Beyond the stone circle, demons called and cried in the dark.

“Scorsi? Ugh.” Something Stefan had once said came hurtling back to me. “Don’t eat the dark meat. Stefan says it’s poisonous.” I eyed my drumstick warily.

“I cut the dark out. Don’t worry. I didn’t agree to your allegiance only to poison you.” Jerry chuckled. He did that a lot. But in his human form, as he was now, the effect was muted. He’d packed all of his kingly demon-self into the pro-wrestler body and tucked himself in tight with the all over body tats. He wasn’t naked—I’d seen enough of the ‘male form’ to last a lifetime—and wore patched leather pants with a coat. It reminded me of how my brother had worn demon-skin garments, but his had been perfect, as though he’d taken great care to skin his enemies and clothe himself in their remains. I shivered. Even as a fire demon, my brother had the power to chill me to the bone. But he was gone. Nobody had locked his soul with theirs.

Around us, the glyphs throbbed inside each stone monolith, similar to how the same markings had covered the throne room in Mammon’s fortress. As soon as I’d crossed the outer fringes of Jerry’s sanctum, the elements vanished. The air thinned. Had I wanted to, I could have worn my human skin and would have been fine. “What is this place? The stones, the symbols, what does it all mean?”

“Control,” Jerry replied, without looking up. He tore a leg off the roasted Scorsi and cracked it open like a lobster claw, revealing pale flesh inside. “I created these designs, long ago when our worlds were young, and I had a queen by my side. Those you see here subdue the elements. Others amplify them. The ones I wear protect me from attack.”

“They move.”

His eyes flicked to me. “They respond to power. The greater the power, the more they must realign to find a balance.”

“At the table in Mammon’s throne room, the glyphs responded to me.”

Jerry took a bite and chewed slowly. His gaze drifted. “That table, the throne room, the fortress, they are powerful focal points for chaos energies. They are as ancient as I am. Those symbols—the ones embedded inside that throne room—were my first. The fortress belonged to me. My queen and I…” He blinked and seemed to ground himself back in the moment. “I ruled from that chamber.” He shrugged a massive shoulder. “Control responds to chaos. You are a beast of chaos, more so than most. The symbols were likely attempting to balance your chaos with their control.” He lifted his hand. “That is how we must restore the veil. With balance. Chaos and control, united.” He fixed his gaze on me. “Tell me about Mammon, about…Akil. How is it you are infused with his soul?”

“I had Damien, my owner, soul-locked inside me.” I tossed the bone back into the campfire. Gristle sizzled and spat. “Akil said it was possible for Damien to come back, even though I’d burned his body to ash. Akil hooked that evil bastard out, destroyed him for good, and planted his own soul in me to help control my…urges. Without his intervention, I’d have been an all-types-of-crazy she-demon by now.” Whatever way I said it, it still sounded wrong on so many levels. I shifted on my stone, avoiding Jerry’s keen gaze. “He was acting weird, saying…things.”

“What kind of things?” Jerry plucked at a cooked haunch. Amber firelight washed over his tattooed face.

“He—er—he started telling the truth.” Jerry stopped chewing. His brow arched up. “Yeah, I know. It freaked me out too. He admitted he’d always known what I was supposed to become, but he talked about caring, and…” Jerry stared wide-eyed at me, as if I had three horns instead of two. “Anyway, long story short, when he blocked Dawn’s power, she killed him.”

“Wait. Back up there. Who’s Dawn?”

Despite the topic, Jerry’s very human speech patterns summoned a smile. I couldn’t deny it was good to see him, especially in this nightmare of a world. “The little girl I burned a street full of enforcers for. She slept on your couch.”

“That little thing with the stuffed bunny killed Mammon? I thought she died?”

“Yeah, half bloods aren’t that easy to kill, despite being mortal. Anyway, I—”

“She’s alive?”

“Yes.”

“You’re sure?”

“Adam Harper has her.”

Jerry’s human-suit rippled. His tattoos shimmied across his skin, slithering, like leeches, before resettling. He didn’t smile, didn’t blink, barely moved at all. “We have to find her,” he growled. “She is chaos.”

“Well, yeah. She’s chaos all right. That’s how she killed Leviathan and destroyed the Boston Institute and Mammon. But he isn’t all dead. I can get him back.
Can
I get him back?”

Jerry didn’t reply. He stared somewhere over my shoulder, his gaze rigid. “She can make this right.”

“Dawn?”

“She is queen.” He blinked slowly and refocused on me. “Will be queen.”

“Wait, what? No. Hell, no. She’s not even ten years old. She hasn’t lived. I thought she was dead, but Adam—that bastard—squirreled her away. She might be okay. I might be able to bring her around.” He glared hard. “She can’t come here, Jerry.” The netherworld was no place for a nine-year-old girl. “It’d ruin her for good.”

“This is not debatable. She is chaos to my control.”

“She’s a little girl.”

“She’s an immortal killer. She controls chaos. The elements are chaos, Muse. She doesn’t have a choice. None of us do. She must come here, to me. Only with her by my side can we permanently restore the veil from inside these stones. Chaos and control. You must find her, and bring her to me.”

“No.” I couldn’t hand her over to the netherworld. After everything she’d been through, she didn’t deserve to be the queen of the demons. They’d kill her the way they had the old queen. “Find another chaos demon.”

“Chaos elementals are anomalies, born at random when demons of opposing elements ruck.”

“But she’s half-human, so she must have a chaos demon for a parent somewhere?”

“Yes. In my long life, I’ve only ever met three. We do not have time to scour the netherworld for another chaos elemental. She is close.” He paused. “She was always close. Carol-Anne kept her in an elementally protected cage right around the block from me.” He spat an old-language curse. “It has to be the girl.”

“No.”

Jerry frowned. “Would you rather see your world perish? The elementals will not stop. The veil must be irrevocably repaired.”

“Take me. I’ll be the damn queen. My flavor of destruction is pretty chaotic.”

His sad smile only further angered me. “You are destruction.”

“I don’t care about the ridiculous demon names. I can be chaos. That little girl doesn’t deserve you or the netherworld. Everyone she’s ever known has used her, lied to her, betrayed her. No. She should have a chance. One chance.” A fracture split my voice. I covered it with a growl, but Jerry was too perceptive not to notice.

“Dawn isn’t you,” he said, his voice so deep it permeated my thoughts.

“No, she’s not,” I growled back. “There’s still hope for her.”

Lips pinched tight, he scowled and shook his head. “You must do this. We can restore the veil for good, Muse. No more demons in your world. Your cities, your people, will be safe. And here, balance will return. Peace. The netherworld will heal. If she won’t come of her own free will, you must make sure she comes. You don’t have a choice, and neither does she.”

This was wrong. So damn wrong. “Can you repair the veil and then give her back?”

“No. Once my element combines with hers, the veil is sealed for as long as we both live.”

Half bloods don’t get happy endings. “
She’s a half blood though. Mortal.
She’ll die.”

“Your Prince of Wrath enjoyed near-immortality. There’s no knowing what a union with my element would do to her half-blood body. There are risks. But the result outweighs the risks.”

The King of Hell was right. I sighed, bowed my head, and swallowed back the anger. “If she doesn’t want to come with me, she won’t. She’s already tried to kill me. Twice.”

“It is the only way. I cannot leave this sanctum. The second I do, the princes will tear into me. Without my queen, I am only a demon.”

How could I lead her like a lamb to the slaughter? I wasn’t Akil. I wasn’t demon enough to think this way. “Jerry, you don’t understand. I betrayed her once—”

“No Muse, you don’t understand.” His voice rumbled deeply enough to quiver across my flesh. “No discussions. No bargains. There are no other chaos demons. She is strong, stronger than most, possibly stronger than the previous queen. That half-blood girl is our last hope, and you are the only one who can reach her.”

“Jerry…” What could I say? Certainly not no, at least, not with conviction. My humanity demanded I protect Dawn, but for the second time, I was going to deliver her into the hands of demons. She’d hate me if she didn’t already. What was the hatred of one little girl compared to the restoration of the veil? Could she be saved? Not if I shoved her back into the netherworld. She’d be demon, a terrifying, chaos-wielding queen of demons. Her humanity would wilt and die. It wouldn’t be Akil delivering her to her enemies. This time, it would be me.

“If you wish for me to resurrect Mammon, you must give me your word you will bring the half-blood chaos girl to me.”

I lifted my gaze. “She’s called Dawn.”

Jerry stared right back, his tattoos squirming. “Your word.”

Akil’s resurrection had nothing to do with my decision. This wasn’t about me or him. It was about the life of one little girl weighed against the rest of humanity. “Yes,” I hissed. “Fine. Yes, you have my word. Damnit. Of course I’ll do it. But so help me, Jerry, you’d better look out for her.”

He nodded. “I’ll protect her with my life.”

“The way you did the last queen?”

He narrowed his eyes. “Speaking of which, you intend to resurrect the architect of her death.”

I blinked and managed to keep a perfectly neutral half-smile on my lips. “Mammon killed the previous queen?”

Jerry didn’t buy my nonchalance. “The queen was chaos. Her element poisoned her mind. She attacked me, as she often did, but this time, the Seven Princes retaliated. They did so for their own selfish reasons. They coveted her power. Using the elemental blade, they carved her element from her body, tore her asunder, and absorbed her chaos into themselves. Your beloved Greed orchestrated it. He wanted her chaos. I suspect he even had a hand in my queen’s insanity.”

“But he saved you?”

Jerry chuckled. “Not out of the kindness of his heart. He’s no fool. If you think you know Ahkeel, you’re wrong. He always has a plan. Understand that, and you understand Greed.” My expression must have revealed too much because Jerry’s tone softened. “I don’t blame him, and you shouldn’t either. You cannot blame a creature for being true to its nature. He is what he is, as are we all. He saved me because he knew— should the loss of the queen unbalance the netherworld, as it has—we’d need a way to repair the damage.”

Everything went back to the slippery and sly Prince of Greed. “He’s changed.” The conviction I’d started out with had vanished.

Jerry’s laughter massaged the quiet like a wicked thing with a life of its own. “Changed?” His chuckles sent flutters shifting low in my belly. “Chaos does not change. What you’ve witnessed in Ahkeel is an elaborate masterpiece of lies. He knew his fate, the same as he knew yours. Valenti surely told him he would die on that battlefield. There was only one way he could ensure the survival of his soul.” Jerry’s chuckles turned dark. “He used you. Are you sure you want him returned? He may not be the demon or the man you think him to be.”

The doubts I’d harbored since Li’el had left matured into fully-fledged fears. Akil had hand picked my mother and delivered her to the Prince of Lust. He’d watched and manipulated me since the moment of my birth. He’d lied, cheated, and betrayed. He was every part the Prince of Hell, and yet… Jerry didn’t know him the way I did. Neither did Li’el, or Adam, or Stefan. Nobody knew him. I wasn’t even sure Akil knew himself. He’d deceived me. He’d used me. He probably had planned to soul-lock me to ensure his existence, but everyone seemed to forget his sins weren’t all of him. He’d plucked me out of Damien’s hands and taught me how to be human. He’d killed to protect me. He’d stopped me from going nuclear, stopped me from killing, and saved me from myself time and time again. He’d helped keep Boston clear of demons. He’d fought alongside Jerry and Stefan and driven back the netherworld. And when Dawn had been about to tear me apart, he’d made the ultimate sacrifice.

I met and held Jerry’s stare. “He died for me. It’s time to bring him back.”