Ties That Bind: A Muse Urban Fantasy (The Veil Series Book 5) (13 page)

S
tefan had
to save his father. The irony wasn’t lost on us. He made a start by banishing the ice barricade, so the house didn’t attract the wrong kind of attention when the nearby residents woke. Leaving Akil at the curbside, we ventured inside Adam’s home.

Little had changed. Yukki continued to stab Adam with Kira-Kira. He still slumped in the chair, comatose but for a few twitches.

Yukki beamed at Stefan, proud of her achievement. He sidestepped around the mess, skirting the edges of the room so he could close in on Adam from the front. Beside his mother, the resemblance was uncanny: same striking features, same dazzling eyes. She didn’t look a day older than him. Side by side, tall, both of them were too beautiful to be real. I wondered what she’d think if she knew how I’d mentally and physically burned her son.

Stefan crouched down, gripped Adam’s face, and peered into his father’s eyes. “Where’s Dawn?” As cool and smooth as ice. No emotion. Certainly no anger. He’d become an expert in showing the world a fraction of what was going on inside him.

Adam murmured something I couldn’t catch. I could have moved closer, but this wasn’t my fight. I still itched to land a few of my own punches for all the pain Adam had dealt me. I’d have to pick a number and get in line.

Stefan shook his head. “That’s not gonna happen, Adam. You can’t protect Dawn. She has a more important role than propping up your dream. Tell us where she is.” More mumbling from Adam. From the tightening of Stefan’s lips, I could assume his father wasn’t cooperating. “Don’t make this any harder.”

Adam’s upper body trembled, and I’d be damned if I didn’t hear sobs. I flicked my gaze away and willed myself to stay still. How long had he been here? Li’el brought Stefan back a few days ago, netherworld time, perhaps a week, Boston time. Had Yukki been torturing him for a week? From the blood-loss and smell, I could assume so. I hated Adam, but even I didn’t have the stomach to see him tortured.

“What does he want?” I asked.

“To be free,” Yukki sneered. “And you will not free him, Muse. My son understands. He knows. We are kin.”

Stefan straightened. I wasn’t sure about him understanding. From the tight press of his lips, he looked as weary as I felt. “He says he’ll take us. That’s the only way we’ll get to her.”

“No.” Yukki stamped her foot. “He’s mine.”

Stefan pulled his gun on his mother, wedged the nozzle under her chin, and backed her up. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he growled. “But we have bigger issues than your thirst for revenge.” Wide-eyed and shocked into silence, Yukki stumbled back. Stefan plucked the sword from her hand and held it out behind him to me. I darted to his side, took the weapon, and scooted back.

“Cut Adam free, Muse,” Stefan ordered.

Kira-Kira’s razor sharp edges made short work of Adam’s ropes. I managed to get my arm around his broad shoulders, but he weighed twice as much as me. Dropping the sword, I heaved him upright.

“Thank you, thank you, thank—” Adam mumbled.

“Shut up. And don’t thank me. Thank your son.” He managed to find some strength in his legs and stood. We wobbled and stumbled a few times on the way to the door. At the porch, Akil took Adam from me like he weighed no more than a postage stamp. I headed back inside.

Stefan eased off Yukki. “Okay, this is what’s going to happen. We’re leaving with Adam. Don’t come after us. If you do, remember he’s now under the protection of two princes, and the Mother of Destruction. Your chances of walking away from that fight are slim. I don’t want to hurt you, Yukki. I genuinely don’t. You’ve helped me and Muse…” He stole a few more steps backward, bringing him closer to me, but kept the gun up and aimed at Yukki. She seethed, body trembling, eyes ablaze with white flames. “But I will. As much as it sickens me to say it, we need Adam. Give me your word, as the Ice Witch, that you won’t follow.”

“You are not my son. No son of mine would let that creature live. He is not even a man. He has no honor. He is a lesser thing.”

“Yeah, I know what Adam is.” His words were flippant, but a slight crack in his voice betrayed the real emotion. “Give me your word.”

“I give you one earth day and night, then I come for him.”

Stefan lowered the gun. “That’ll do.” We hurried outside and found Adam propped up in the back seat of an Institute Ford Taurus with Akil beside the open driver’s door.

Stefan strode across the lawn beside me. He tucked the gun away. “I’m not riding in that car if he’s driving.”

“Seriously?” The fierce glare silenced me. Hell would have to freeze over before Stefan let Akil drive. It was like dealing with children—deadly, all-powerful, testosterone-pumped children. “Well, I’m not riding in the car if you’re driving.” I grumbled. “It’s bad luck. For me. Akil…” I thumbed over my shoulder. “You’re in the back. Stefan, you get shotgun. I’m driving.” This was a terrible idea. Akil glowered. Stefan simmered. Adam looked to be on the verge of death while we bickered. “Move,” I snapped.

Yukki’s pale face peered through Adam’s living room window. Her icy glare burned while I fired up the Taurus and gunned it away from the curb. And thus began the most awkward and trying car journey of my entire life.

T
o say
the atmosphere in the car was tense was an understatement of epic proportions. The somewhat strained history among the four of us sucked the air out of the car, making it damned difficult to breathe. Stefan wanted to kill Akil. We all knew that. Who knew what Akil wanted? But whatever it was, it wouldn’t complement Stefan’s plan. I wanted them both to get along, just for a little while longer. We all wanted Adam dead, which made the fact we were supposed to protect him all the more frustrating.

Adam had muttered
“Middlesex Fells.”
The underground base of operations was some thirty minutes out of town. Akil argued we should kill Adam and walk right in through the front doors, citing the fact that, not long ago, he’d walked out of their facility without so much as a scratch. Stefan replied by saying the lower levels weren’t so easily infiltrated. Akil muttered something about it being easy for a true prince, a low blow, even for him. Stefan growled and retaliated by saying we might not get inside without Adam’s security clearance. More snarls ensued. Thirty minutes. That was the time they’d need to keep their claws sheathed. One thousand and eight hundred seconds. I knew that because I’d figured it out in an effort to think of anything else besides the two princes with more than enough ego between them to suffocate us all.

Stefan jabbed at the radio. He found something screechy and angry—Linkin Park—and settled back in his seat, brooding in silence. That lasted about a minute before the radio mysteriously died. The swirl of smoke rising from the dash, of course, had nothing to do with Akil.

“How’s the view back there?” Stefan asked, lips twitching around a roguish smile.

“Delightful,” Akil purred. “Having spent several weeks sharing Muse’s soul, it’s not as though she and I need to be physically close. I know her like no other.”

Perfect.
If these two could wield words the way they wielded their elements, we weren’t going to make it another mile. I rolled my eyes and checked the illuminated display for the time. We’d been traveling for almost ten minutes. “Akil, can it.”

Stefan allowed himself a little victory chuckle.

“You too.” He gave me the hey-I’m-innocent
expression, but the crooked smile cheapened it. Nineteen minutes to go. “How’s Adam?” I flicked my gaze to the rear view mirror.

Akil’s dark eyes met mine. “His heart rate is concerning. He’ll need medical attention after we’ve secured Dawn. But he’ll live.” He said it with a growl, most perturbed that Adam had to breathe the same air as him.

“Until tomorrow night,” Stefan said. Nobody had anything to add to that.

An awkward silence ensued. And by awkward, I mean every second of every minute dragged by as though time sunk its claws in and refused to budge. The sound of the tires rumbling on the road surface and Adam’s deep breathing kept us company. An insane urge to giggle tickled my throat. I cleared it. “So…” I dragged that one little word out to three syllables. “Crazy weather, huh?”

Stefan’s glance said, “seriously?”

Akil’s dulcet tones rolled over my attempt at small talk. “Do you hear them, Wrath?”

Stefan’s lashes fluttered. He swallowed and propped his elbow against the door. “Yeah, the princes are bickering, something about a death-bringer.”

Oh.
I lifted a hand. “That’d be me.”

“Really?” Stefan twisted to look me over. His smiled turned devilish.

“What?”

“That’s a name. Wrath is too vague. But Death-bringer? C’mon, that’s pretty sweet.”

I allowed myself a selfish smile. “It is pretty cool, huh? I thought maybe I’d get a tattoo. Across the knuckles.”

Stefan played along. “You don’t have enough knuckles.”

“Well, there is that—”

Akil’s snarl from the back dashed my humor. “The names are variations on primal motives. Many demons have died in pursuit of such names. Titles should be treated with reverence.”

Stefan quick-fired back, “Aren’t there any less sadistic titles?”

“What would you suggest? The Prince of Loyalty, perhaps? Or the Prince of Hope?”

“Why not?”

It was Akil’s turn to chuckle. “Those things don’t exist in the netherworld.”

“That’s why it’s dying. You need a little hope to keep things alive.”

“Why don’t you petition the King of Hell. I’m sure he’ll acquiesce to your request. It’s not as though he’s had eons to consider whether his world might be dying because the netherworld isn’t nice enough.”

I tried not to laugh, which resulted in an unattractive snort. Stefan shot me a dry look. The fact the two of them were able to hold a fairly civil conversation had me riveted.

“Muse, if we can perhaps discuss something more pressing than Wrath’s complaints, the princes, including your father, actively seek you. They know I’ve returned and suspect you of deception. It will not take them long to realize you’re near me.”

“Then why are you here?” Stefan asked, tone sharp. He twisted in his seat and glared into the back.

I flicked my gaze to the mirror again. Sparks of fire glowed in Akil’s dark eyes. “Because, Prince of Impudence, the last time Muse attempted to restrain Dawn, the girl almost killed her, as you well know. When we find Dawn, Muse will need help to restrain her.”

I shivered. “It won’t come to that. She’ll listen.”

“Yeah.” Stefan ignored me and mock-frowned in disbelief at Akil. “But weren’t you the one who betrayed Dawn the first time?”

Akil’s eyes narrowed. “I think you’ll find I saved her from Leviathan’s clutches.”

“Sure you did. It’s not like she could look after herself. Oh wait, she could. She killed Leviathan.”

Okay, this topic was starting to head toward the do-not-discuss zone. Time for me to referee. “Guys.”

“You, Prince of Sarcasm, are not entirely without blame in all of this.”

“Excuse me?” Stefan growled, all traces of humor simmering dry behind mounting tension.

“Seven enforcers, wasn’t it?” Akil inquired.

A muscle jumped in Stefan’s jaw. I caught the twitch out of the corner of my eye. “Akil,” I warned. Ten minutes to go. Just ten little minutes. Was that ice on the inside of the windshield? I reached forward and tried to brush it off.
Definitely
ice.

“Do you know how many enforcers I’ve killed?” Akil asked.

“Why don’t you go right ahead and regale us with your infamy,” Stefan replied dryly.

“None.”

“Actually,” I said, before I could stop myself from wading into their argument. “You killed one. Sam.”

“The spy,” Akil replied, not impressed.

“Yes, he was a spy, but you did kill him.”

He hesitated. “I stand corrected. I killed one to protect Muse.”

Stefan barked cold laughter. “To protect Muse? Right. It’s not as though she could think for herself, or y’know, maybe make a judgment call, had you
told her the truth
.”

This wasn’t going to work. Nine minutes to go, and it might as well have been an hour. These two weren’t going to last another minute trapped in the car together. Really, it had been a miracle they’d lasted that long. “Guys.”

“Said by the man who stabbed her through the chest.”

The growl that bubbled up Stefan’s throat was pure demon, and laden with threat. “That was an accident.”

“Of course it was.”

“You sent hellhounds after her,” Stefan scoffed. “
Hellhounds.”

“Er, guys.”

“As a test. She survived. As a demon of her caliber should.”

“Only because I gave her the heads up. You can’t even see past your own BS, can you? You tried to kill Muse. Multiple times.”

“I don’t
try
to do anything.” Akil’s responding growl rumbled the windows. “You have no idea—Prince of Mistakes—what it means to live as I do. You are but a quarter of a century old. If you had lived as long as I have, you would know how some desires must be sacrificed so that other needs live on. Life is a balancing act. You are not qualified to judge me or my actions.”

“I may not be, but Muse is.”

While they quick-fired insults, I leaned forward and narrowed my eyes at the blob of white light low in the sun-blushed dawn sky ahead of us. “What’s that?”

“Muse knows me intimately—”

Stefan made a disgusted sound at the back of his throat. “Only because she had no choice. She would never have agreed to an infusion with you. You had to coerce her into it.”

The orb of light bobbed and then plummeted between the trees lining the roadside. When the beam reared up ahead of us, I caught the outline of a chopper before the wash of light flooded the car. I slammed my foot on the brake. The car hooked, slid to a sideways halt, and stalled just as the chopper swooped in low and fast, buzzing over the roof.

“Drive!” Stefan barked.

I started the engine and fished around for a gear. A pair of car headlights bore down on us from ahead. A glance out of Stefan’s window revealed the same coming in hot from behind.

“Institute,” Stefan snarled, echoing my thoughts.

Adam was still out cold, slumped at an awkward angle against the door. “Dammit,” I snarled, “how could he have told them?”

“He couldn’t have,” Akil confirmed calmly.

“Then how do they know?”

“A tracker on the car? Doesn’t matter,” Stefan said. “We’re screwed unless Adam wakes up and tells them to stand down.”

Akil clutched Adam by the shirt and backhanded him with enough force to make both Stefan and me flinch.

“Damnit, Akil,” I said. “The idea is to wake him up, not make sure he never does.” A wretched little groan peeled from Adam’s lips. His eyes moved behind closed lids, but he didn’t wake.

The metallic
chink-chink
of a Desert Eagle’s slide being cranked back drew my eye to Stefan. “We’re sitting ducks.” He peered through the window as the cars fanned out and blocked the road.

“We can’t fight them.” I checked my own two incoming cars. They pulled to a stop a few yards away. The helicopter beat the air.

“No?” Stefan asked. “Then how do you think we’re getting out of this? Last time I checked, I was at the top of their hit list.”

“Muse is right.” Akil leaned forward behind me and braced a hand on the seat. “We’ll only appear more guilty if we emerge from this car as demons.”

Stefan gave the Prince of Greed a dry look. “Right. As soon as it gets too hot, you’ll vanish, leaving me and Muse to soak up the crossfire.”

The only outward sign of Akil’s frustration was the slight press of his lips. “I was charged with Muse’s protection while you were learning to walk. Don’t presume to anticipate my actions.”

Stefan blinked, brow arched incredulously. “That’s wrong on so many twisted demon levels.”

“Would you two stop? They haven’t opened fire. They’re waiting. If we just get out, nice and slowly, we can explain what’s happening.” Stefan muttered something about suicide and reached for the door handle. “Leave the gun,” I said. “It’s not like you need it.”

“It’s not for them.” But he placed the Desert Eagle on the dash and cracked the door open.

“On three.” I said. If the Institute didn’t fill us full of bullet holes before my boots touched the road it’d be a miracle. “One, two—” Akil was out in one swift movement. Stefan followed. “Three,” I said to myself, gulped a measure of courage, and climbed from the car.