Devil May Care (21 page)

A
kil deposited
me a short walk from the Institute’s innocuous warehouse complex. I’d lost all track of time. Above Boston’s skyline, light pollution leeched into a starless night sky. A touch of rouge against the dark sky to the east suggested we had perhaps an hour before sunrise.

I zipped up my jacket and turned back to regard both Stefan and Akil. I wasn’t entirely sure they could be trusted in one another’s company. Akil had convinced me that, should Damien already be with Ryder, Stefan would need his help. He was right again. I’d rendered Stefan elementally impotent, although he was still entirely capable of bringing down a demon without his element. He’d have a better chance with Akil beside him. Plus, Akil couldn’t enter the Institute. I almost wanted to see it. It’d be like throwing a wolf into the chicken coop. Besides, they wouldn’t listen to a Prince of Hell, even if he could somehow breach their graffiti-symbol defenses.

Still, looking at the two of them standing on the sidewalk, bathed in the glow from a streetlight, I couldn’t help feeling I was doing the wrong thing. Stefan’s gaze was slippery. He ground his teeth and shifted restlessly, hardly bothering to conceal his loathing for Akil. Akil, on the other hand, carried an easy stride, as though none of this could penetrate his infallible exterior. Back in top form, he had no reason to worry. Nothing fazed a Prince of Hell, or so I’d thought, but I’d seen a different side of him, and the heat in his eyes told me he knew as much.

“Can I trust you to not to kill each other?” I kept my voice low in the hushed quiet.

Stefan snorted a laugh and muttered something about Akil not being able to kill him the last dozen or so times he’d tried, and Akil arched an eyebrow, as though I’d wasted my breath asking such a ridiculous question. It was enough to convince me they’d temporarily hold back their mutual distaste.

“Be careful.” Akil lifted a hand. The lingering touch of his element coiled around my ankle and wove higher. He could have closed the distance between us in a few strides if he wanted to. I saw it in the rigidity of his stance, but he held back. For a few seconds, I wondered why, and then realized his self-restraint was for Stefan’s benefit. Akil’s actions said more in that moment of hesitation than any words could have mustered.
He cared.

I nodded briskly. “I’ll be fine. If they get twitchy, I’ll bring the fire.”

I cast my gaze past Akil at Stefan. If he waited much longer, he’d start pacing. By the flick of his fingers against his thigh and the sweep of his hand through his hair, he was clearly itching for a fight. “Take care of Ryder. He’s been good to me.”

Stefan finally pinned his arctic glare on me. Even robbed of his element, the look he gave me had me tightening my coat. He dipped his chin in a sharp nod of acknowledgement, but the chill he’d wrapped around himself intensified my doubts.

Akil noticed my concern, even if Stefan didn’t. “Go. Once we’ve ascertained Ryder’s safety, I’ll return.”

With little else to say and the seconds ticking on, I took a few steps back, drawing out my goodbye while I committed the image of the both of them to my memory. Utterly useless at anything resembling a goodbye, I turned and marched away without saying any of the dozen or so farewells in my head. It wouldn’t be for long, I told myself. Everything was going to be fine. When I glanced back, they’d both gone.

Flicking my collars up and tucking my hands deep into my pockets, I upped my pace to a jog and rounded the street corner toward the sprawling, concrete warehouse.

“
H
ey
, Muse. Thought you were AWOL?” The guard behind the outer doors watched me sign in and plant my thumb on the ID pad by the door.

“Yeah, short vacation in the netherworld. There’s no place like home.”

His gaze rode me like a devil on my shoulder until I was through the reinforced steel. I could be damned sure he’d alert Adam to my presence. My return would spike a security alert; hopefully nothing too heavy. It might wake a few Enforcers and put them on stand-by, but Adam wouldn’t risk spooking me. He’d want to hear me out. The head of operations was always ready to hear information he could use.

The Institute halls and offices were quiet but not empty. I attracted a few curious glances from the nightshift staff. Many would know me by name. Having a demon in their midst, even half of one, didn’t sit too well with the majority.

The sound of my boots thumping the carpet seemed a little too loud in my anxious mind, as did the hum of the computers and occasional tap-tap of fingers on a keyboard. A ringing phone just about made me jump out of my skin before I calmed the hell down. Nothing untoward was going to happen. I had every right to be here. I was helping them.

Yeah, and the last time you’d told them that, they’d pumped you full of PC34 and threw you in a prison cell.
Okay, so I had reason to be on edge, but there was no point wallowing in anxiety. I was a multi-realm she-devil capable of incinerating a crowd of demons at the snap of my fingers. I didn’t need to fear the Institute...

A shaft of light cut across the hall from below Adam’s office door. I rapped my knuckles against the panel, expecting Adam’s bullet-quick ‘come’ to fire back at me. When the invite didn’t come, I glanced up and down the hallway. Alone, I helped myself inside the comfortable office. Adam wasn’t there. The desk-light illuminated a spread of papers. A half empty glass of water sat beside the keyboard. A computer tower hummed out of sight. Wherever Adam had gone, he’d been away from his desk long enough for the computer to doze off and condensed water to gather around the base of the glass.

A blue file rested on top of the others on his desk. Its tag read: Subject Beta. I reached out and flipped open the cover. In the few seconds it took to scan the covering page, I picked out several key words: Subject Beta. Muse. Volatile. Akil Vitalis. Class A demons. Threat Level Red.
Sam Harwood.

I scooted around the desk and turned over the covering pages. Sam had been my friend. Akil had killed him. Why was his name in a file on Adam’s desk? What the hell was Subject Beta? I skimmed over Adam’s handwritten notes and peeked under sticky-notes. There were dates and events from years ago, long before Stefan had walked into my life and blown my workshop to smithereens. Stefan’s name didn’t appear to feature at all. Half a dozen pages consisted of progress reports signed by David Ryder. More documents bullet-pointed my past with Akil. They knew the date Akil had brought me through the veil. I noticed the name of the school I’d briefly attended before a demon had tried to kill me in class. Numerous sightings… Pictures of me as a skinny teen tucked into Akil’s embrace at the Aquarium; his eyes fiercely protective while I gawked at the penguins. Subject Beta…was me. In Adam’s handwriting, there was mention of an Operation Typhon, whatever that was. There: Sam Harwood… Deceased. There was another name beside it; Jason Bywater. Who was he? What was Operation Typhon?

A shadow passed by the office door. I tensed, ready to spring back and plaster an innocent expression on my face. The door stayed closed. I puffed out a sigh. Adam could be back any minute. Even if he wasn’t, I needed to find him and warn him about Damien. I didn’t have time to waste. I grabbed a few pages from the file and fed them into Adam’s copier. I plucked each newly printed copy free and tapped my foot as more churned out. Something Adam had said… “Your employment was inevitable.” I thought he’d meant from the moment Stefan had revealed the existence of the Institute to me, but what if it went back further than that? Just how long had they watched me? And why? Did Akil know? Was he in on it? I remembered his scathing comments months ago about the insolence of the Institute. Had he been referring to something else besides Nica being sent to spy on him? Had the Institute put Akil up to saving me from Damien all those years ago? I’d thought he’d found me because he wanted me… Had the ten years we spent together been a ruse? Was he part of the Institute’s grander plan? Akil wanted my demon, and I’d assumed that had been his motive all along. Could there be other motives behind his actions? Was he just following orders? It would explain how a wretched half-blood girl belonging to a vile demon had appeared on a Prince of Hell’s radar in the first place.

I plucked the last sheet free, folded it, and tucked them all into my jacket pocket.

Surely Akil wouldn’t be under the thumb of the Institute. I’d seen nothing that suggested the Institute had their hooks in any demon as powerful as a Prince of Hell. I couldn’t imagine Akil bowing to anyone, especially the Institute. He despised them more than I did. There was no way he’d work for them. It wasn’t possible. It wasn’t in his nature. I knew him. Akil did everything for Akil. Yet, I didn’t trust him. He was secrets and lies. Could the Institute have bargained with him? They’d convinced Yukki Onna to find me. They weren’t beyond bartering with demons for the greater good.

Suspicions chased doubts around my head. I growled at myself and mentally shoved it all to one side to examine later. Adam wouldn’t answer my questions, but the new more vocal Akil might. When this was over, we’d have a nice long chat about the Institute, Operation Typhon and Subject Beta, and what the hell he knew about all three.

I couldn’t wait any longer for Adam to return and decided to check the library. There was a chance I’d find Nica there, squirreling away her private time in research. Besides Adam, there wasn’t anyone else I trusted with the information. Plus I wanted to tell her Stefan was alive and well—perhaps not as well as he could have been, but we had him back. It was a start.

She might already be aware. The Institute had been called to an unseasonable ice incident at Jerry’s, and Mammon had crashed their party. Adam would have been informed of Mammon’s sudden appearance and would have surmised Stefan was back on this side of the veil too. That didn’t mean he’d told Nica though. He was just as likely to keep it all a secret in the hope he could whisk Stefan away for the benefit of the Institute.

I found my pace quickening as I navigated my way across the Institute’s rabbit-warren to the library. The early hour meant I was able to pass undisturbed by the staff, but the security cameras blinked their green indicator lights at me as I passed. Always watching. The only place they didn’t routinely observe was the storeroom-cum-library.

The library door gave a woeful groan as I shoved it open and stepped inside. I expected to be met with the evocative odor of old books, so when the metallic coppery smell of blood assaulted my senses, I froze. Instinct took over, senses kicking into fight or flight mode. The huge space with its cathedral proportioned ceilings and rows upon rows of books made seeking out the source of the blood difficult. The strip lights buzzed their stark inhuman glow down from above but still somehow managed to miss the valleys of shadows between the shelves.

I could see straight down four rows in front of me, but further afield either side of those shelves was a dead zone. A creeping sense of unease thread its way up the back of my neck. Someone watched me.

“Who’s in here?” I called.

Beneath the monotonous buzzing of lights, the hiss of whispers reached me. I didn’t even consider leaving to get help. Why would I? I could smell blood. Somebody was hurt. As an Enforcer, albeit a new one, I should have been well equipped to deal with this. I told myself this as I moved with deliberate care along the ends of the aisles.

The whispering abruptly ceased. I paused, tilted my head and listened. When the whispers returned, the sound had changed, turned into snatches of shallow breath. Someone was choking, fighting for their life. Fear fuelled a reckless burst of speed. Dread plummeted through my gut. I caught hold of the end of the metal bookshelves and skidded around the end of the aisle, only to be brought up short when Damien’s glare met mine.

All demon, he towered over Nica, forearm muscles taut from the strain of holding the chain looped around her neck, wings cast back to balance him. Her feet kicked uselessly at the air as she dangled doll-like in front of him. She’d hooked her fingers into the chain, trying to pry the links free. At half his size and strength, there was little hope she’d escape. She didn’t see me, but Damien knew I was there. A rasping laughter hissed through his sharp teeth. A sharp stab of pain punched me in the chest. His poison writhed like maggots inside me. I gagged and staggered.

Nica’s struggles weakened. He would kill her and wouldn’t stop at her. He’d rip a swathe of destruction through the heart of the Institute. Whatever happened, I couldn’t let him leave the library.

I crouched low and dropped the mental barrier holding back my demon. She roared through me in a blistering tsunami of heat. Blue flame devoured my human flesh. Veins of molten heat pulsated through my scorched black flesh. Blind, unadulterated fury fed the inferno roaring inside of me, rendering Damien’s touch inside of me insignificant. Head down, wing up, I sprang at him.

He dropped Nica and rounded on me. He coiled the chain in his right fist. Twice my size and five times my weight, he could have tackled me, but I was agile, and when pissed off, I had a sting in my tail. He swung his fist down toward me. I ducked and twisted at the last second and caught the end of the chain. He tugged me back, heaving me off my feet, but I had my target. I threaded the flames through the chain, blazing the links white-hot. Fire lashed around Damien’s fist and danced up his arm.

He bellowed and flung me to the floor. My breath exploded as I landed awkwardly on my side against Nica. He staggered back, arm thrashing in a bid to free himself of the chain. Globules of molten metal rained around us.

Damien stumbled back against the wall, his leathery wings pinned at awkward angles behind him. He snarled at the superheated chain and tried to wrench it free. White-hot metal clung to his claws.

I watched him writhe in pain, watched his hideously demonic face twist in agony, and I delighted in the thrill of seeing him suffer. I leered at him, unable to tear my gaze away. A sensuous touch of perverse glee touched my mind. The scene sharpened. The smell of burned flesh, the taste of it on my tongue, the blaze of disgust in his eyes—I committed it to memory, sharpened the sensations to a point, and pinned them to the back of my skull like a goddamn trophy.
Burn, Damien. Dance beneath my fire.
I could have watched him burn for eternity, but the chain loosened and slipped free. He swung his murderous glare back to me and roared.