you remember I told you there are two ways to remove an infusion such as yours? One is to simply tear it out, but that would likely kill you. The other option is less painful, but...” I nodded for him to continue. “It takes a great deal of skill and control to remove it entirely, hence only a prince can do it. Such a feat will leave me weak at a time when neither of us can afford to be vulnerable.”
“How weak?”
He didn’t meet my eyes. “Too weak.”
“The solution?” I already knew the answer.
“I replace Damien’s infusion with my own.”
Of course. I smiled, “Mm, and you get to control me? For my father, perhaps?”
“I would have thought I might have earned your trust by now.”
I barked a laugh. He’d even said that with a straight face. “The words ‘trust’ and ‘Akil’ should never be uttered in the same sentence.”
“I have no intention of handing you over to Asmodeus. Shortly after I brought you to Boston, I began to doubt my own motives. Whatever you think of me, I care about you in ways I struggle to admit, even to myself. It is an alien sensation—disarming—and I have no idea how to deal with it. I find my thoughts irrational around you. Believe me, Muse, I do not enjoy elevating your wellbeing above my own, but I cannot seem to stop from doing exactly that. In this form, it’s infuriating. As Mammon, I find my thoughts…dangerous.”
“I’m honored,” I drawled and then frowned at his less-than-appreciative scowl. “Maybe all the time you’ve spent playing human is rubbing off on you.”
“Perhaps, but I am not human.” Concern cut into his features.
My situation had gone beyond trust into necessity. If I was going to regain some measure of control, I had to rid myself of Damien for good. “Can I ever remove your soul-lock once you’re…in me?”
“Yes. When this is over and I can afford to be vulnerable, I’ll remove it completely. You have my word.”
“The word of a Prince of Hell?” I shook my head with a smile. His word was worthless. At least, it had been. I scooped Jonesy off my lap and wobbled to my feet. “Just… Just give me some space.”
“We do not have long.”
“I need you gone so I can think clearly.” And I needed to get out of my bloodied and filthy clothes, so I could at least pretend I was something close to human again. I needed to be alone with my thoughts.
He looked up at me from his position on the floor, the picture of composure even with his Institute sweats and mussed hair. “I’ll do what I can on the streets and return at dawn.” With that, he vanished, leaving me alone for the first time in what felt like weeks. Bone-weary, anxious, exhausted, battered, and bruised, I pushed all the concern and fear aside. I’d been ready to sacrifice it all to stop my brother. At least, that’s what I’d told myself. But inside, I feared Akil had been right. Suicide was not an option, even if it had seemed like the only way out. But he was back. There was another way out of this. I had to let Akil in and hope I didn’t live to regret not turning myself into ash in the netherworld.
CHAPTER TWENTY
The TV news channels were filled with the chaos wrought overnight by the demon attack. The authorities, including the scattered ranks of enforcers, had managed to contain the madness, but speculation about more attacks was rife. Could it get worse? One channel noted Akil’s absence. As the spokesperson for the demon community, people wanted answers from him. I wished them luck with that. There were conflicted reports that some had seen him working with the demons at dawn, while others had seen him fighting against them. I tried to reach Ryder to check if Jenna was okay, but the signal on my cell kept dropping out. I tried Lacy’s number and got her voicemail. She’d left for her parents’ house in Maine and taken Rosa, my elderly neighbor, with her. I prayed they’d got out in time. I couldn’t even leave my apartment to check for fear I’d go nuclear the second I stepped outside.
Adam Harper’s disappearance made the headlines. Given his position as the head of the Boston Institute, the rumor was he’d been killed. I didn’t think my luck had changed, so I could assume he was still alive. If one person survived Armageddon, it’d