Beyond the Veil by Pippa DaCosta Page A

shattered my momentary enjoyment like shards of glass thrust into my skull. I had no choice but to cover my ears. It was no use. The cry resounded within me.
      Hunched low, I willed it to stop. My power rattled about me, seeking a target but finding only chaos. I couldn ’ t focus, couldn ’ t hear, could barely breathe, and then it was gone. Like the snap of a light switch chasing away the plummeting darkness, it was over, and when I opened my eyes, I saw why.
      Akil, or rather his true form, Mammon, stood before the serpent-demon. He had thrust an ethereal broadsword made entirely of an undulating electric blue light through the serpent-demon ’ s scaled body. The bloodied, intangible tip of the sword protruded from its skull. I stumbled, falling to my knees, as always, finding Akil ’ s true nature difficult for my human eyes to focus on. The suffocating weight of his considerable power filled the room. The overwhelming pressure of it crushed the air from my lungs. I forced myself to look at him, refusing to let weakness steal my consciousness.
    Akil ’ s broad multi-jointed wings of tanned leather bowed against the ceiling, a dusting of embers raining from their arched edges. As those wings flexed, the muscles in his broad back rippled. Every ounce of flesh looked as though it had been sculpted from obsidian, every muscle lean and powerful.
    “ Vos inhonesto mihi. ” Akil ’ s growl thundered around my aching skull. You dishonor me .
    I watched his right shoulder bunch, one wing jerking a little as he altered his grip on the sword and twisted the blade deep in its snug-fitting wound. The serpent demon grunted, skewered as it was. It was only when Akil tore the sword free, ripping open the chest of the beast, that it collapsed forward, tail twitching. A dark pool of blood bloomed around its hideous body. Its green eyes hung open, unseeing. Dead.
    Akil turned, and I caught a glimpse of his true face before I bowed my head. Cut from the very fabric of the elements, his face barely resembled the man I ’ d left beside the car. He appeared more beast than man with spiraled horns twisting from his forehead, his wide gaping mouth brimming with jagged teeth. Dark wrappings of power thrashed around him, seeking their next victim. An aura of energy simmered against his flesh. The thin veil of reality fizzled into dust at his feet.
    I ’ m not ashamed to admit that I cowered on my hands and knees before him. The other part of me had slunk away into the farthest corners of my mind, curling herself into a tiny insignificant flutter in my chest, hardly there at all.
    He crouched before me, thick muscular arms resting on stocky knees slick with a sheen of energy. When he held out a hand, elongated fingers tipped with curved claws, I had no choice but to take it. My delicate fingers curled in his, my human flesh so pink and fragile. His writhing tendrils of power curled themselves up my forearm, snaking around my elbow before leaping to my shoulder. I had enough time to realize the darkness had entwined itself around my legs like creeping vines, before the weight of it dragged me down. I fell, and the darkness rushed up to greet me.

Chapter Seven
    The party had spilled out into the hotel foyer. The inebriated guests wore masquerade masks ranging from vampires to ghosts and demons. Akil ’ s idea of irony, I guess. It would have been hilarious, had I not just seen one of the originals of those so-called myths slice a serpent demon in half.
      Akil sat in the center of the head table like a scene from a modern day last supper, leaning crookedly in his chair as he laughed at something the woman beside him said. They all wore masks, so only mouths and eyes could be seen. The more subtle expressions remained hidden. He had given up trying to catch my eye and now appeared to revel in the role of charming host. His mask sported a pair of devil horns. Those around him had no idea that the beast sat among them. He played the part