Free Darkest Before Dawn by Pippa DaCosta Page A

some orange juice into a glass. “Y’know, you’re right to be wary of Akil. He’s a very complicated demon. He tried to hurt me once, but my friend, Stefan, saved me. Stefan... sacrificed a lot for me.”
    “What happened?”
    “He trapped Akil on the other side of the veil. Neither of them could get back.” I ran my fingers down the outside of the glass of juice and gathered up beads of condensation. “Time works differently there.” Dawn nodded. She understood. “Six months passed, but for him it was more like years, and... he’d changed.”
    “I don’t like it there.”
    “No, the netherworld is a harsh place to survive in, especially for us.” Stefan had spent the equivalent of two years fighting to survive. When he’d stepped through the veil, his control over his demon had been faultless. When he came back, his demon controlled him, and I suspected he liked it. There’s a certain freedom that comes when you release the demon. Reason, apprehension, doubts, they all fade away to nothing. It’s addictive, that freedom, and it’s dangerous. “As half bloods, we are responsible for a great deal of power. If we don’t control it, it controls us.”
    Dawn plucked a donut free of the box and held it up, but her gaze wandered, and her eyes glazed over. “My owner wanted me to release my demon. She said the princes would be pleased.”
    A jolt of alarm shot through me. “The princes?” Plural? More than one? What I knew of them told me they never worked together. Ever.
    Dawn nodded and took a bite out of the donut, muffling her next words. “She said I had to keep up with the others. If I was good, I could play with others like me.”
    “Others? Other half bloods?”
    “I wasn’t good.” Dawn’s gaze dropped. “I’ve never met the others—only you, Muse.” She chomped the remainder of her donut and then with a grin asked if she could play with Missus Floppy.
    I watched her run from the kitchen, in a hurry to get to her bunny. More half bloods. More princes. “Akil, you son-of-a-bitch, what the hell have you gotten me into?” In the absence of Akil’s answers, there was only one other person who could help with a half-blood problem, but Stefan had made it clear what he thought of me.
    I scooped up Ryder’s cell from the countertop. I had to listen to it. Ryder had given me the phone. Maybe Stefan had been trying to contact me? I dialed the voicemail. “ Ryder, hey man, where are you? The workshop is empty. Muse was there...” Stefan paused. Was that a growl? When he continued, his voice had gained a jagged edge. “I thought it would be easier. You were right. I can’t do this. I need... Just call me.”
    I replayed the message. Definitely a growl. He still had the demon brogue, a deeply gruff accent from his time in the netherworld. It hadn’t been so apparent when I’d seen him at the workshop. He’d deliberately hidden it from me.
    I lowered the cell and glared at it before scrolling through Ryder’s contacts, breezing past Ryder’s Spare—which I assumed would be the cell Ryder had on him—and hovered my thumb over Stefan’s number. I suspected I knew how this call was going to go. It would be awkward, stilted, and painful. He’d tell me to get lost. He clearly didn’t want anything to do with me. But I couldn’t give up on him. We needed to talk. There was a time I’d have told him anything, and although it had been brief, our time together had meant something. He’d said the same, right before accusing me of plotting with Akil. Surely, if I could just get him to listen... If we could get past all the horror, which had somehow drowned us both…
    My thumb twitched over the call button. He’d cleaned out the workshop. He’d told me not to contact him. I’m sorry we met . I clenched my jaw and ground my teeth. He believed I was his enemy.
    I jabbed Stefan’s number. The cell rang twice.
    “Ryder, get your ass back here—”
    “Stefan.”
    A brittle silence snapped