Devil May Care: A Muse Urban Fantasy (The Veil Series Book 2) by DaCosta Pippa

Author:DaCosta, Pippa [DaCosta, Pippa]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Published: 2014-05-12T16:00:00+00:00

* * *

Akil could have transported us into Stefan’s territory, but we agreed Stefan might not react well to a sudden attack. So we approached through the dead forest. Ahead, in the distance, through the naked branches, the writhing aurora of power rippled in the late evening sky.

“How do you feel?” Akil glanced back at me. The air was still, and although he’d kept his voice low, his words echoed through the skeletal trees.

“I’m okay.” My ribs still ached, and an occasional twinge of pain jabbed rudely at my chest where Damien’s metaphysical soul-lock sat heavily on my heart, but otherwise I felt rested and raring to snag Stefan and get the hell out of Dodge. I also had countless questions burning on the tip of my tongue. In the two days I’d spent healing, I’d been trying to wrap my head around where I was and who I was with.

I studied how Akil stalked through the trees ahead. He moved with purpose, weaving around flayed trees and ducking below low-hanging branches. He had a liquid grace, as though he could adapt his body to any environment, even dressed in a tired suit. It felt at odds with how I remembered him: a professional businessman, surrounded by modern trappings, the epitome of charm and success. Here, he had a gritty edge and a hint of wildness. It took me a day of quiet watching to realize why. He was home. This was where he belonged. Despite spending my early years in the netherworld, it would never be my home. He’d spent a hundred years in the human realm, give or take few decades, but the rest of his eternal existence had played out in the netherworld. Could I really say I knew him at all? What’s a hundred years to an immortal being? A blink? What had he done in those years? What kind of creature was he, really? I’d never asked, never needed to. That was about to change.

“Is there a King?” Of all the questions I could have asked, such as ‘do you still intend to separate my demon from my flesh?’ I could guarantee he didn’t expect that one. Start easy. Once I had him talking, I planned to pounce on the other more pertinent questions. Besides, I had a vague memory of him explaining the netherworld hierarchy long ago, but had pushed much of those early years to the back of my mind.

“Mm…” He shoved a branch away.

“What does that mean? Mm?”

“You’re awfully talkative.”

I glared at his back. “You think one question is talkative? You ain’t seen nothing yet. Damien didn’t like to hear me talk. Then I was with you in Boston, and I wanted to forget about the netherworld. So I didn’t ask quest—”

“Wisely so.” He covered ground in one step that took me two.

He brushed a branch aside, stepped around it, and released it. I got a face full of twigs as it smacked me in the head and chest. I spat out a curse and wrestled free.

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