certain you didn’t just deny a direct order from your prince.” A smile flirted across Akil’s lips, and fire rimmed the irises in his otherwise hazel eyes.
“No, Sire.” The demon ducked his head.
“Good.” Akil flicked his fingers, and a ribbon of light rippled open beside him. The veil. “Be on your way.”
“Now? B-But…”
Akil plucked the demon off his knees and shoved him through the twitching sliver of light. Moments later, the veil stitched itself closed, and Akil turned to me. “Before you say a word about not needing my help, I observed your altercation for several minutes before intervening. Had it gone on any longer, I’m quite certain you would be dead.”
“Dead is such a strong word.” My voice came out littered with scratches and hitches, dashing my attempt at bravado. I rolled onto my side, winced as the wound in my side flared, and climbed to my feet. Akil watched me stagger and right myself. He knew better than to help me.
“Nice coat. Do you always kick demon ass dressed like an Italian supermodel?” I brushed loose dirt from my jeans and tee. When I caught sight of the bloom of blood and the warm metallic scent of it hit me, I swallowed a knot of fear. It had been too close.
Akil blinked into existence right in front of me. His heat wrapped me in a quilt-like embrace. I attempted to deny how his warmth soothed my rattled body and mind, but it was a losing battle. Exhausted, battered, bruised, and bleeding, I was in no condition to argue with him. I’d not spoken to him in weeks—not officially—but I knew he’d been on the streets, eager to kick any wayward demons back to the netherworld, or hell as it was fondly referred to. According to Akil, Boston was his city, and nobody would take it from him, not an influx of demons and certainly not the other princes. I wasn’t entirely surprised to see him. I suspected he’d been watching me from afar.
He hooked a finger under my chin and tilted my head up. “Why did you allow that demon to best you?”
I fluttered my eyes closed. The disappointment on his face was too much. “I’m afraid.”
“Of what? Not him.”
“Damien.” My parasite. I opened my eyes in time to catch Akil’s glare narrowing. “He constantly pulls on my control. And my demon… She’s impatient. She whispers to me the whole time. If I let her go, Akil, I’m afraid I might not come back.” I’d lost control a few weeks ago, almost killing an angry mob and nearly tearing Akil’s arm off in the process. He’d stopped me from doing both, but it had been too close for comfort.
He drew his hand back. Our gazes locked for a few seconds before he dipped his lower, over my lips, my chest, to where his fingers peeled the sticky hem of my top away from my waist. “You know how to remove the soul-lock. I’m sure you don’t need me to say it again.”
Right, by letting Akil dig him out. I’d been thinking about it every night when I woke screaming, drenched in cold sweat, body aching and mind shattered beneath a flood of revolting images—Damien’s memories. Yeah, I’d thought about it a lot while drowning myself in whiskey. Damien was killing me as surely as if he stood over my shoulder, driving a dagger into my back. I needed Akil’s help. I was losing this battle. I’d been losing it since the beginning. And I didn’t have much time left.
“Could he ever come back?” I asked quietly. “The part of him that’s in me, could it ever become solid again, flesh and blood real?”
Akil searched my face, delaying, until he finally gave me the truth. “Yes. There is a way. But you need not concern yourself with it. Without your consent, it could never happen.” Disgust burned at the back of my throat. I wanted my owner out, gone for good. I’d have gladly cut him out with a rusted razor blade if I could. “You cannot continue like this, Muse.” Akil’s deft fingers probed my side, drawing a hiss from my lips. “If you refuse to summon your demon, you will likely die the next time you find yourself in harm’s way. I may not always be here to save you.”
I bowed my head, simultaneously resting my forehead against his chest while he pressed his hand over the wounds and fizzed heat through my flesh. “I think… maybe…”