I growled. “I thought you were different. I thought we understood each other.”
“Get the fuck outtah my face, Muse, before I do something I’ll regret.” Even with whiskey dripping from his chin, he delivered his threat with enough bravado to deter me.
“What happened to you?”
“Me?” He dragged a hand down his face and flicked moisture from his fingers. “We’re at war, and you’re on the wrong side. Get your shit together, or get out of Boston.”
Adam’s presence loomed to my left. He was a big guy, built like a lumberjack in Abercrombie & Fitch apparel. Casually classy. He loitered in my peripheral vision, radiating authority the way Akil radiated heat. Behind him, three enforcers watched me like hawks hovering over their prey. Six others hung back. All they needed was an excuse, and I’d be full of bullet holes. Grossly outnumbered, I blinked and backed away from Ryder. This wasn’t over. I threw him a glare that told him as much and then steeled myself against Adam’s stare of abject disapproval.
Adam nodded once and beckoned me away from Ryder. Whiskey churned in my gut as I obliged. Ryder’s words couldn’t have hurt me more if he’d stabbed my in the chest. I knew things were bad between us, but I hadn’t realized how deep his hatred went. I shouldn’t have been surprised. I hated him right back for what he’d done to Dawn, the half blood girl I’d tried to save and he had killed.
“Everything okay?” Adam pulled out a chair and gestured for me to sit. I snorted and crossed my arms. “Sit.”
“No.”
“Very well.” He sat and leaned back in the chair, stretching his long legs beneath the table. “This is about Akil. Let me make something perfectly clear, Muse. You will not see Akil unless you’re under the influence of P-C-Thirty-Four.”
His words sucker-punched me right where Ryder’s had already wounded me. My head spun, and my vision blurred. I sat in the chair and slumped forward, sinking my fingers into my hair. A dull ache throbbed up my right side, and the whiskey in my stomach threatened to force its way back up my throat. “I can’t do that.”
“This is not something we can negotiate. You’re too volatile, and he’s too valuable.”
There was no way in hell I was letting Adam stick a needle in me and pump me full of PC34 again. Not going to happen. Ever. Not even for the demon who had saved me from myself on many occasions and in many different ways.
I lifted my head and despised the fact Adam would see the tears brimming my eyes. I couldn’t do a damn thing to stop them, so I snarled. “Akil was on our side. He’s been on the streets like us. He no more wants the Princes here than we do. What you’ve done… You don’t understand how bad this is. He’ll never let you live, Adam. He despises the Institute and how you meddle with demons. Until you did this, he tolerated you, but that’s not an option anymore. He’ll destroy you.”
“He’s contained—and he’s not going anywhere, Muse. Not for a very long time.”
The thought of Akil strapped to a table and at the mercy of the Institute scientists was almost enough to tip my thin control over the edge. “Is he conscious?”
“Yes.” Adam blinked slowly.
“Has he said anything?”
He didn’t reply as he assessed me, obviously working over a few possible replies in his head before finally saying, “He’s demanded to see you.”
My heart flipped, but Adam’s concerned expression trampled on my new shoots of hope.
He sighed. “He believes you were involved in his capture. He claims the reason you didn’t summon your demon in that alley was to lure him into action. He’s not saying much, but when he does, he’s quite…vehement.”
Shit. I clamped my teeth together. I could see how, from Akil’s point of view, it might look like I’d been involved. “And you haven’t said anything to put him right?” Adam didn’t reply. How could he sit there, so freakin’ calm? If it wasn’t for the anti-elemental symbols adorning the walls, I’d be dancing in the fire and giving him third degree burns right now. “How did you know he’d be in that alley?” I leaned back and crossed my arms, locking my trembling fingers into fists.
“Akil usually resurfaces around you. I had you watched.”
That was nothing new for Adam Harper. He didn’t believe in privacy laws unless the subject was his past. “Where are you keeping him?”