Darkest Before Dawn (5 page)

I bit back my denial. Ryder was right. As much as I wanted to believe Akil had left her with me for good reasons, there was no denying his absence was suspicious. “She’s a half blood, like me.”

Ryder nodded. “All the more reason to stay clear. You’ve been through enough. You don’t need to deal with Akil’s baggage. Hand her over to the Institute.”

A ripple of heat bloomed inside me. I ignored it for the sake of friendship. “How can you say that? You know what they’ll do to her, right? You said it yourself once. You know what they did to Stefan. He despises them.”

“He hates Adam and what the Institute did to him under his father’s orders. There’s the difference. She’s dangerous—”

“Like I was—”

“Like you all are. Fuck, Muse. I saw you pump a Prince of Hell full of enough power to turn him into something not even demon—something... god-like. I watched you and Stefan go at each other, calling god-knows what from the netherworld, and I’ve seen what it’s done to him. Half bloods are dangerous. Don’t try to sell me some crap about control. That lil’ girl you got in there...” He jabbed the toothpick at the door. “The safest place for her is behind bars at the Institute.”

I placed my coffee very carefully down on the counter. My element pulsed in an unpleasant wave, breaching my control and then receding as I drove it back. “I can’t believe I’m hearing this from you.” They’d locked me behind bars. Twice. I would have despised them for that even without my history of abuse.

“What if she can call the kind of power you can, huh? What if Akil knows that, and he’s left her here to hurt you like a goddamn Trojan horse?”

“He wouldn’t. He’s different.”

Ryder gave me a sharp look. “Don’t defend Akil.”

I pressed my lips together and ground my teeth. “He really wouldn’t hurt me.” Was I convincing myself as much as I was Ryder?

“Why? Tell me why he wouldn’t screw with you again? You’re his weakness. You can drain him dry. You think he wants you walkin’ around lordin’ that much power over him?”

“You said it yourself. Yeah, I can drain him, and I can feed him more energy than he can handle. In the netherworld, you didn’t see what I did. I... I killed a lot of demons, and it changed how he looks at me.” I tried not to think about how I’d turned a crowd of demons to ash, mostly because of how I found the memory to be disturbingly comforting.

Ryder blinked, but my revelation only gave him a few seconds pause. “Jesus, Muse. I didn’t come here to hear you spout off about Akil’s sudden change of heart. He’s all demon and a stone-cold killer, or have you forgotten how he murdered your friend? Sword through the chest because the guy was in the way? You saw it, Muse, with your own eyes. You read that blade and saw Akil kill Sam.”

A shattering pain sparked across my chest, drawing a hiss from between my teeth. Heady emotions often gave my parasitic owner a waking jab. The guilt I felt over Sam’s death provided more than enough emotional fuel.

I pressed my hand over my heart and tried to suck in a breath around the pain. “Get out.”

“Sure,” Ryder said, mistaking my grimace as one of anger. He headed for the door. “Y’know, I told Stefan you aren’t what he thinks.” He tugged the door open and glanced back at me. “Don’t make a liar out of me.”

The second the door closed behind him, I fell against the counter. My trembling arms barely held me up. I couldn’t catch my breath. With each throb, the tightness around my heart increased, shortening each gasp until the edges of my vision darkened. I willed myself not to collapse, not with Dawn there. I had to keep it together. But the dark hungered. Echoes of Damien’s laughter resounded through my head. I’d stabbed him, torn out his throat, and burned his body from the inside out, and still he’d laughed. My stomach hitched, trying to eject my breakfast and with it the demon rotting away my soul.
Damn him back to hell.

Ryder burst back into my apartment. “Institute. And they ain’t for me.” He strode across the lounge, eyes pinched with concern as he saw me struggling to stand upright. “Shit, Muse, what the–”

“I’m fine.”

He dug into his pocket and handed me a set of keys and a wad of cash. “Take my car,” he said, softer this time, “It’s the beat up Mustang parked ’round the back. They’ll be tracking yours. Don’t use ATM cards. From what you tell me, that lil’ girl is too hot to stay here. Get her out of town. Do what you’ve gotta do.”

He squeezed my shoulder. Ryder didn’t do physical expression of friendship; this was serious. “What about you?” I found my voice. “They’ll take you in.”

“They know everything already.” His lips twisted as though he’d tasted something foul. “I’ll tell ‘em I was waitin’ for you to come back. I got it covered. Go.” He’d been keeping the Institute informed of Stefan’s progress. I should have known. I could see the truth in his eyes. He wasn’t happy about it, but it was his job, and Ryder was, first and foremost, an Enforcer.

After grabbing Dawn, the three of us hurried out of my apartment and down the hall to the fire exit. I shoved open the door and blinked as the stairwell lights flicked on.

Ryder hung back. “You’d better know what you’re doing, Muse.”

“Don’t tell them.” I clutched Dawn’s hand in mine. “Don’t tell them what’s going on. Not yet. Let me figure out how to keep her safe. If I can’t, I’ll take her in.”

Footfalls hammered on the stairs. Ryder frowned but nodded a silent agreement, then dug into another pocket and tossed me a cell phone. “Emergencies only. I’m in the contacts. Call if yah need me.” He strode away to face his colleagues.

Beat up
were two words for the ’66 Mustang. Another couple were:
scrap metal
. Once pale blue, now sporting three rust-red donor car doors, it sat on fat Firestone tires and chipped chrome rims. The interior hadn’t fared much better. Embossed ponies galloped over torn leather seats. Knots of loose wires dangled below the dash, and when I turned on the ignition, the dials didn’t respond.

I turned the keys and prayed the engine had seen more loving care than the body. The V8 grumbled to life. The car coughed, belched a puff of black smoke, and found its rhythm.

Dawn whimpered in the passenger seat. “Hang on,” I told her, catching a glimpse of two Enforcers in the rear-view mirror. I eased the car away from the curb, trying to appear inconspicuous. They noticed us immediately. Both started running. One palmed a gun. The other chinned a cellphone.

Ramming the car into gear, I jammed the throttle open and lurched the Mustang forward. Ryder had taught me a few things about driving fast. We’d often raced each other to demon incursions. I was no street-racer, but I could handle a little excessive speed.

“Put the belt on.” Wrenching on the steering wheel, I swung the car onto Dorchester Street. The Mustang loped into lane. Tired suspension gave the car an unhealthy amount of body roll and threatened to break away the rear end. I planted the throttle and accelerated hard. A few cars behind us, a silver Ford Taurus swung out of the side street and carved its way through the light traffic.

“Dammit.”

Dawn secured her belt and hunkered down in the passenger seat, her rabbit pulled close.

“It’s gonna be fine,” I muttered, mostly to myself. By running, I’d already ticked off the Institute. Just as long as they didn’t know why I was running, Dawn might stay off their radar. Running was her only chance at a normal life.

At an intersection, I swung the car left, bumping over the uneven road surface and fighting the steering wheel. We sped on, through a roundabout, following Old Colony Avenue. Parked cars choked the roadside, while ahead, a stream of traffic slowed my approach to the expressway. I glanced in the mirror, spotted my tail screeching through the intersection, dropped a gear, and bumped the Mustang over the inlaid stones between the lanes. The car bucked and twitched into oncoming traffic. Dawn let out a squeak. I swung the wheel and peeled back into the correct lane, planting my foot to the floor. With a throaty roar, the Mustang gobbled up the road.

Behind, the gray Ford knotted in traffic. I wove around slower cars. The greenery of Joe Moakley Park opened up to my left, the railway tracks and expressway to the right. Just a few minutes more and we’d be on R93 out of town.

A wall of red tail lights flared ahead. I slammed on the brakes, sensed the car breaking loose, and pumped the pedal to try to control the skid. The fat tires squealed and bellowed smoke. I turned the wheel into the slide, prayed we didn’t hit anything, and held my breath. The Mustang rocked to a halt sideways behind the jammed traffic, body panels untouched.

I puffed out a breath. “You okay?”

Dawn chewed her lip and nodded. A squeal of tires snapped my attention back to the road. The incoming Ford slammed on its brakes and attempted to pin us in. I caught a glimpse of the driver. Jenna Sparks. Enforcer. A colleague. We’d traded small talk a few times in the Institute cafeteria. Raven-black hair, cut close against a face too sharp to be considered beautiful. Fine cheekbones, full lips, fearless brown eyes. And she was tenacious as hell.

Ramming the Mustang into reverse, I twisted in my seat, and plowed the car backward off the road. We trundled over a grass median and down onto a slip road. The undercarriage let out a nasty cry as it scuffed the road. Yanking on the wheel, I swung the Mustang around, so we faced the right direction, and dug around for first gear.

The Taurus bumped over the median after us.

The gears made a mangled, gnarling sound, protesting at the rough handling. I pumped the clutch and forced the stick into gear. Any gear. The Mustang sprang forward, throwing me back into the seat. Engine roaring, we built up some speed. But so did the Ford. As it drew up alongside, I shoved Dawn’s head down. “Stay down.”

Jenna glared at me through the window. She pointed, suggesting I might like to pull over. Yeah, that wasn’t going to happen. I tightened my grip on the steering wheel and rammed the Mustang against her immaculate Ford. Screaming metal-on-metal briefly deafened me. The Ford veered off before coming right back and sideswiping us.

“Hold on!” I locked my hand around the parking brake and tugged. The rear end of the Mustang locked up and swung us sideways, helped by a quick jerk of the wheel. The Ford sailed on. We came to a halt facing the wrong way into oncoming traffic. I found a gear, planted the throttle once more, and played chicken with startled drivers until we burst out onto the Old Colony again, heading back toward my neighborhood.

Taking random turns, pushing the car to its limits, I only slowed when my mirrors were free of Enforcer vehicles. By then, we’d carved up half of South Boston. I’d lost the Institute for now, but they had my scent. I had to get out of the city and fast.

W
e got
onto the expressway headed north. “You okay?” I asked Dawn. She hardly moved, just gazed out of the window, shoulders slouched while her thoughts were clearly elsewhere. “It’s not always like this.”

“Why did we run from them?”

Focusing on the road ahead, I considered how best to describe an international company that controlled and killed demons without terrifying her. “The Institute protects people from demons. They’re good at what they do. But if you happen to be a demon, or even half demon, they’re not the most friendly bunch.”

She fell quiet. I prodded the radio, but like most of the Mustang’s instruments, it was dead. As we lost the daylight, I considered my options. Unknown demons wanted Dawn. Akil had left her with me for a reason. I wasn’t getting any help from anyone. It was just the girl and me. Ryder believed she was a trap. I couldn’t blame him for thinking the worst. Akil was fond of ulterior motives. But Dawn was a half blood. Akil knew I’d understand.

“We’re going to one of Akil’s houses. I’ve not been there for a while.” Years, in fact. “I... used to live there when I was younger. It’s nice. We’ll be safe at Blackstone.”
Maybe
, I added silently. “Are you hungry?”

She shook her head and leaned against the door. Her mop of curls obscured her face, but I saw her lip quiver and tore my gaze away. What horrors had she seen at the hands of demons? Had she had a succession of owners like me? Did they beat her and violate her?

“Do you want to talk?” I asked carefully.

“No, Muse.”

Something behind her voice sounded suspiciously like a warning. I backed off. I hadn’t spoken of my past, not in detail, not to anyone. When Damien had returned, I’d told the Institute what they needed to know. Not even Akil knew it all. Demons are nothing if not vicious.

A
kil’s
rural house was situated in Salem, New Hampshire, a forty-minute drive north of Boston, tucked inside the embrace of an ancient forest, like a fortress behind a barricade of trees. You’d never know Blackstone existed. Elaborate black iron gates designed to look like creeping vines guarded the mile long driveway. I knew every inch of those gates intimately. I’d crafted them. There was a track around the back, if a person was willing to drive another twenty minutes out of her way. The gates were padlocked, as I suspected they would be, so we took the long way around.

Designed by a European architect back in the early 1990’s, Blackstone had matured well. Given its forest location, you’d expect to see a sprawling cabin, not the glass-fronted modern structure with its wing-like profile. Built into a slight incline, the split-levels cascaded down to a small lake. As we approached, much of the building’s sophisticated design was buried beneath darkness. The Mustang’s headlights raked over the stone and timber walls. Dawn eyed the sprawling structure with suspicion.

“Wait here.” I left the Mustang. Gravel crunched under my boots as I headed for the side door. None of the lights came on, and besides the whisper of a breeze through the trees, the house and forest were quiet.

I knocked and rang the bell, but I didn’t expect an answer. Walking around the double garages, I ventured into the dark around the back of the house and fumbled around a log-pile in the hope the spare key was where it always used to be. I’d been locked out before. Akil regularly disappeared without warning and after I’d spent a night on the doorstep, we’d stashed a key. Shifting logs around, I found it and returned to the side door.

Once inside, I flicked the lights on and entered the alarm code: the date I’d stepped through the veil for the first time and begun my human life. The musty air was cold and still, the big house as empty as a mausoleum. I ventured through each of the rooms, flicking on lights as I went. Sheets covered the furniture. A thick layer of dust coated what had once been smooth granite, polished marble floors, and glass surfaces.

I’d learned how to be human inside Blackstone’s walls. My first good memories were forged in the grounds. Dawn would be safe at Blackstone as I had been.

Dawn wandered cautiously through the ground floor while I booted up the heating and security systems. The house was wired up like a bank vault and built with protective elemental symbols etched into the foundations. Discreet CCTV cameras fed images back to a basement control room. Six bedrooms, five bathrooms, three reception rooms, vast kitchen, deck and basement game room. Blackstone was more than enough house for Dawn and me. Too much, I realized, when I tried to find her again.

I eventually located her standing in the lounge, her tiny body dwarfed by the huge black granite fireplace. “Hey.”

“This is his home?”

“Akil’s? Yes. When he saved me from Damien—my owner, this was where he brought me. It’s real nice in daylight. Probably seems a bit daunting right now.” I crouched down beside her. Her gaze absorbed the room, eyes curious. “Nobody will find us here. Tomorrow, I’ll go into town and grab us some clothes and groceries.”

She turned in a slow circle. Her eyes darted as she assessed every inch of the lounge. “Why don’t you call him Mammon?”

Because I tried not to associated the two. And Mammon scared the hell out of me. “It’s the name he’s chosen for when he’s in human form. A long time ago, he went by
Ah-keel
. Now he’s shortened it. Modernized it, I guess.”

“But he’s not human.”

It wasn’t a question, but I confirmed it anyway. “No. Not at all human.”

“What are we?”

I smiled warmly. “I like to think of myself as human. But we’re half way between demon and human. We’re both and neither. We’re different and lucky. We get to choose what we want to be.”

“I don’t feel lucky.”

I hesitated, struggling to find the right words. Our gazes met. She patiently waited for me to elaborate. “Dawn, you don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to, but I think I know what you’ve been through. It’s okay. Things will be better now. Akil saved me, and I think he’s done the same for you.”

“But he’s...” Her eyes focused over my shoulder, her gaze distant. “He hurt my owner,” she said quietly.

She’d seen him as Mammon. It explained the questions. “He is very dangerous. Don’t ever forget that.” I might like to heed my own warnings. “Dawn, what was your owner’s name?”

“Carol-Anne.”

I’d been right. Akil and Carol-Anne had fought. He’d taken Dawn for himself.
Prince of Greed, remember.
Not so long ago, he’d wanted my demon and the power repressed behind my weak human shell. Of course, he’d told me it was all for my benefit. He’d lied. Fifteen years ago, he’d stolen me from my owner just as he’d stolen Dawn from Carol-Anne. It seemed Akil was collecting half bloods.

I watched for any sign the girl was distraught at the memory of Akil killing Carol-Anne, but she blinked innocent eyes up at me with no trace of sorrow, just wide-eyed anticipation. “He set you free.”

“Does that mean Akil’s my owner now?”

“No.” I smiled, forcing back a sudden urge to growl. “Nobody owns you. We don’t have to be owned. You’ve been lied to, Dawn. We’re strong—stronger than them.” I lowered my voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “We’re even more powerful than the princes.”

Her eyes widened, and her little mouth parted in a silent ‘O’. I smiled and gently squeezed her shoulder.

“But... But... I’m not… I don’t…”

“It’s okay. I was surprised too. I can help you, Dawn. I think that’s why Akil brought you to me. We’ll talk some more tomorrow. For now, let’s get some rest.”

She nodded and hugged her rabbit in the crook of her arm.