Chaos Rises: A Veil World Urban Fantasy (20 page)

“I could go back,” Torrent said.

“What? Why?” Allard had torn his wings to ribbons. There was no knowing what the demon dealer would do now.

“He’ll punish me, but I’ll heal. The answers are at Fairhaven.”

Go back to Allard with my tail between my legs? That
wasn’t
happening. I was more likely to lash out and find myself in the white room all over again.

Torrent clearly recognized the anger on my face. Bowing his head, he looked at his hands, curling his fingers into his palms. “This feeling is… it’s dangerous.”

Dangerous is not understanding our demons.
Del’s words drifted through broken thoughts. “I’m not going back to Allard. I can’t. Every time I look at him, I lose my mind a little. I want to kill him, Torrent. I want to…” I trailed off, clenching my teeth. I wanted Allard on his knees, exposing his throat to me. I didn’t understand it, but I felt it, and that was real enough. We’d kill each other. And with the power I had now, the thrill of this new freedom, I’d do something stupid, something reckless, something demon. “I was created to kill demons. What you saw outside the precinct, that was nothing. My demon, it’s… It’s not normal, even for demons. I kill. It’s what I do. They taught me to kill before I was five years old. I’ve had PC-Thirty-Four keeping it under control, but that’s gone, and now Allard and his ascension… I don’t know if I can stop the killing once I start.” It felt like holding my finger over a big red button that said “Do Not Touch.” I knew if I let her go, the worst would happen. But that button, that release, was so tempting. “It’s like having a crazy person whispering in my ear. She’s getting louder and louder. I can’t ignore her for much longer.”

Torrent listened, head bowed. “The ascension did something to our demons.”

“It made us more demon.” I wasn’t sure how or why, but I was changed, changed in a way that went right down to my soul. It terrified me, and I liked it.

Torrent rubbed at his forehead. “Sit beside me.”

I narrowed my eyes.

“Just… I just want to try this.”

“I’ll hurt you.”

“You won’t. I want to try something. I’ve done it before. It’s demon, but...” He paused, noticing my frown cutting deeper. “Back at Fairhaven, in that room, all the elements combined, and I feel them now, between us. You do too.” He paused, waiting for me to agree. I couldn’t deny it, but I stayed quiet. “Just…” He hesitated, reaching for the right words. “I’m not asking for anything. Just sit next to me. It will help. Trust me.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Don’t try anything. It won’t end well.”

A smile pulled on the corner of his mouth. “I’m not going to bite.” There were promises in his eyes that said otherwise.

“No.” I wanted to. I knew what he meant about the elements, about feeling the pull between us. The ascension had tangled us together in ways I didn’t understand, ways I didn’t yet want to understand.

He pushed off the bed and lifted his hands when I uncrossed my arms and straightened, shoring up for a fight. “Easy, Icy…” Walking in a wide arc out of my reach, he settled against the wall an arm’s length from me. I glared, feeling ice pinch my fingertips.

He dropped his head back and closed his eyes, trusting that I wouldn’t lash out. Trust. It went both ways, didn’t it? I’d only ever trusted Del.

I settled back against the wall again but kept my hands free at my sides. A few minutes passed, and in that time, Torrent’s smooth elemental touch reached out to mine. I recoiled a little, my element bristling in response, but there was something else in that touch keeping me from crossing the room and putting fifteen steps between us: a demon familiarity. He tried again, coiling the lick of intangible power around my ankle, and when I didn’t push back, he roamed it higher.

“Torrent.” His name sounded like a warning.

“Relax, Gem,” he said, eyes still closed. “Quit trying to control what shouldn’t be controlled.”

I closed my eyes, letting my focus drill down to the way his touch wove over me, through mine until my heart rate slowed, and the madness loosened. Maybe I didn’t want to kill him, ruck him, and eat him—probably in that order. Maybe being demon didn’t only mean kill or be killed as I’d had drilled into me since before I could remember. His touch encircled mine, and I sent mine roaming over him into the recesses of the demon inside his human skin, finding his spirit bright and clean and smooth. It was deeply intimate in a way that spoke of trust, nothing more, nothing less. I let out a tight little sigh, finding myself relaxing for the first time since escaping the ascension, maybe since before then. When his hand found mine, I laced my fingers with his. The restless tension eased off and smoothed out.

“There.”

I blinked, surprised to find us still in the grubby hotel room and not sitting together on a beach somewhere, listening to the waves lap against the shore. His hand slipped from mine, and I found both halves of myself—demon and human—aching to have it back.

He headed for the door. I didn’t want him to go, didn’t want to be alone. I almost voiced my fear and begged him to stay, but if he knew how deeply the last few moments had affected me, he might use the weakness against me. I crossed my arms to stop my hands from reaching and denied the silly human needs.
Let him leave. Let him think this means nothing. Survival means never giving anyone weapons to use against me. Caring is a weakness. Don’t let him be mine.

“I’m going to go pay for a few more hours,” he said, and I released a silent sigh of relief. “We need time to figure this out.”

I opened my mouth to say something—thank you, don’t go, come back, I don’t want to be alone—any and all of those. But instead of speaking, I shrugged and hugged my arms closer. He paused by the door then gave me the kind of over-the-shoulder look that carried with it a glimmer of power, a knowing, hungry look. Then he was gone. The door clicked closed behind him, and I wondered if what I’d seen was real or just what I’d wanted to see.

I looked down at the hand he’d held and rubbed my fingers together, still feeling the remnants of his elemental touch. He knew all about being demon, and I didn’t know a damn thing about being that part of me. I’d never needed to. I was unprepared for the real world and dangerously naïve when it came to the dangers coiled inside me. Torrent could help me, and I needed it. I might never have needed help more.

Did that make me vulnerable?

Demons lied. Demons manipulated.

Was I letting the fact Torrent appeared to care cloud my judgment? I had the proof of what he was in my back pocket. He had enough sway and power to get Allard hot under the collar. He had enough presence to work my demon into a frenzy—those damned wings—and now he was using human wiles to win me over. Or was it genuine? I didn’t know. I had nothing to compare his behavior to. The Institute hadn’t taught me human or demon social skills.

I was way out of my depth and alone in this, the real world. Not an Institute cell, not the maze, not the endless trials and fights to survive. This real world, the one outside my Institute prison, wasn’t what I’d expected.

Smoke wisped in the corner of my gaze. I whirled away from the window where shadows peeled through the seals. No natural air current moved like that. The smoke poured to the floor and swirled on the spot. I bumped against the bed and considered scooting around it and out the door, but the hypnotic smoke pulled my thoughts inside the mini storm. A body of darkness moved. Too late, I realized the swirl of smoke and air formed the outline of a man.

He came forward, moving like shadows, not quite there. The only indication he was real was the gritty burn in my eyes.
Demon
.

He stopped. Briefly, I blinked into a moment of perfect clarity. Naked black muscles gleamed beneath the pitiful light. His eyes were clouded white, no irises.
Air
, my limited thoughts provided. He moved like air. In motion again, moving sideways, his form was there and gone again, mist and whispers until he stopped, closer this time. The bunched bone structure of his wings trailed behind his broad shoulders and down his back, sparse without their feathers.

He smiled suddenly, and white teeth flashed against the black. “I am quite partial to half bloods.” His cloudy eyes narrowed.

The caged prince. Oh.

I stumbled backward, scrambled over the bed, tumbled off the opposite side, and dashed for the door, but in a blur, he was there, black and smothering as night. With a demon hiss, I yanked my element to me, enough to throw it all at him—

And stopped.

He wasn’t like Allard. Power rolled off the Prince in delicious, deadly waves—a deep, netherworldly background throb of power, like the heartbeat of a being larger than this room, larger than LA. He could crush me without lifting a finger. And he wouldn’t hesitate to do exactly that if I drew my ice against him.

He had to be way over six feet tall. His smooth, bare chest, powerful thighs, and impressive other parts screamed masculine prowess. He stalked forward, his stride as powerful as the rest of him. I bumped into a bedside cabinet, backpedaling, but still he came. Then he sank a startlingly warm hand down my top. I froze, indignation stalling in my throat.

He plucked the feather free of my bra. “This, I believe, is mine.” He grinned, tugging on an old scar that ran from his bottom lip, over his chin, and down his neck.

Something he’d said hit me.
Partial to half bloods.
Maybe the killing would come later, after he’d torn strips off me. The Institute files said demons ate half bloods in the netherworld.

The door rattled. The prince swirled in a storm of black and gray. I darted around him, escape so close, heart pounding its way up my throat. A wing whacked me in the chest, tossing me clean off my feet against the bed. I shoved up on my elbows and had a spectacular view of the prince’s bare rear while he pinned Torrent to the wall. Torrent didn’t struggle. He’d fallen into his submissive stance and averted his gaze as any demon should.

“Mm…color me intrigued,” the prince purred. “I came seeking one and find two.”

We weren’t getting out of this alive. Princes didn’t care for half bloods. They didn’t care for anything. He’d kill us for entertainment, to pass the time. How had he even found us?

The feather.

“We had a deal,” I said, bright and clear with no indication of the human fear rattling through my bones.

The prince twisted at the waist and threw his clouded gaze over his shoulder. Light spilled down the musculature of his back, carving around lean muscles. His body declared a savage, ageless beauty, like he’d been cut from midnight itself. I’d never seen anything so beautiful or so terrifying.

“Do you like what you see, little girl?”

“I…” I flicked my gaze to his clouded eyes, squinting against the painful burn of his full glare. “We had a deal,” I repeated, this time like I might have some means to back up my bravado.

“Did we?”

“The feather?”

He dropped Torrent and stepped back. His wings spread. The ridges crowded against the ceiling. He didn’t seem to notice or care that he was filling every inch of available space.

He’d blocked the way to the door, but there was always the window behind me. Torrent backed that way, clearly thinking the same.

“Ah, the feather?” He raised a brow at Torrent, freezing him on the spot, before sliding those pupil-less eyes back to me. “You suggested that should you assist in my escape, I would be bound to protect you and yours?”

“Yes.” So he had heard every word in the Fairhaven basement. I wasn’t sure if that was more comforting or less.

He looked at me, and I felt him measuring me, weighing my worth. “You failed to realize, little half blood nymph, I was never trapped, rendering your deal—” his teeth flashed—“null.”

“But the cage—”

With a flick of his fingers, my protest was discarded. “The glyphs provided ample shelter while the fallout settled.”

He wasn’t trapped. He’d never been trapped.

He was
hiding
.

My gut dropped while my mind raced. “I saw you at the ascension. You were chained.”
Not trapped.
Waiting.

He lifted his chin and studied me like someone studying a bug, debating whether to let the insect live or pull its legs off, one by one. “Azazel was fed pertinent information so that I might regain the power I’d lost.” The prince had used Allard’s ambition for his own reasons? “And now we have our very own court, somewhat diminished and uneven in power, but a Court nonetheless. Quite marvelous, don’t you agree?” He flashed a blinding smile at Torrent, who wisely didn’t reply or react. His element rippled, low and ready, but cool and unthreatening.

“Then why give me the feather?”

The prince flicked his wrist again, producing the same glossy black feather between a finger and thumb. He presented it to me in a brief flourish. “A gift. Why else?”

A gift from a Prince of Hell? I recoiled.

“Tuck my gift back between your breasts. I rather enjoyed it there.” Would it offend him if I didn’t take it? Probably. He was already starting to lose his smile, and I really didn’t want to be on the receiving end of all that power. My demon shifted, stretching her awareness close to the surface, eager to wallow in his element.

All the princes were gone, but not this one. He’d been hiding all this time. What did that make him?
Shrewd and cunning
.

I pushed off the bed and slowly, carefully, got to my feet. Feeling tiny under his gaze, I reached out and took the feather, wondering about the slight widening of his eyes. The feather clearly wasn’t just any feather. Demons don’t do gifts. Allard bought me with his pre-Fall trinkets. Was this prince attempting to do the same?

As he’d suggested, I tucked the feather back in my bra. The velvety edges briefly tickled. His resulting smile was a sly, sideways promise.

“Now then, little icy nymph. While you familiarize yourself with your new status, it’s been a terribly long time since I was last in Los Angeles. Some demons did not take kindly to my exploits. Such a terrible shame they’re no longer able to cross the veil and stop me.” He said that in a tone that was as far from regret as you could get.