Twisted Soul (Cursed Legacies #3)

2. Crypt

2

CRYPT

I slash through another wisp, but ten more pile onto my back and legs, their piranha-like teeth tearing into me. White-hot pain blooms all over as I send another wave of mania through Limbo to stun the rabid horde I'm battling.

I haven't seen this many wisps in one place for quite some time, and they're abnormally riled. They're acting nearly as savage as shades, which I'm sure have also gathered in this part of Limbo to lay in wait for me.

That thought pisses me off further, and I was already in a rotten mood after learning that Crane gets to whisper sweet nothings straight to my darling obsession's pretty mind whenever he pleases.

I've never experienced jealousy, let alone to this degree.

It's fucking unpleasant.

Still, at least one good thing came out of today: despite getting run through and the two full-blown heart attacks from practically losing my keeper twice within an hour, Somnus DeLune is finally, blessedly dead—and may he rot in eternal misery because that monster deserves no semblance of peace. Anything less than utter hell for him would be unacceptable.

Speaking of unacceptable things, Maven has been out of my sight for over thirty minutes.

I finish dispersing the remaining wisps and step into the mortal world to better survey my surroundings, ignoring the searing sensation in my limbs from switching planes. I'm in the grand entry hall of Everbound, where several legacy corpses lay. Bloodcurdling screams echo elsewhere in the castle, along with echoing shrieks that can only belong to shadow fiends. It sounds like several someones are getting brutally slaughtered.

From Limbo, I've observed the university go to shit. Whatever students survived First Placement are fleeing the school or fighting each other, more out of fear and confusion than for any other reason. The faculty is all but gone.

Lifting my sword arm, I watch my skin struggle and fail to close the thousands of tiny puncture wounds the riled wisps left behind. I'm not strong enough to heal at the moment. Although I grabbed a simple black T-shirt and jeans from the apartment before taking on the horde, everything is ripped to threads now.

Lucky for me, one of the nearby legacy corpses looks to be about my size. I only wish the poor sap was wearing a leather jacket when he bit the dust.

I've just dressed in the conveniently bloodstain-less clothes when the massive double doors of Everbound University burst open behind me, and a deafening snarl rips through the air. I drop into Limbo on instinct—which is fortunate because if I'd hesitated a moment longer, my head would have wound up down the throat of the massive hellhound that leaps through the air where I was just standing.

"Fuck. Pretty sure that was the Nightmare Prince," a voice grits.

I turn to observe the newcomers, pocketing my sword, which has shrunk to a lighter once more. The one who just spoke is a redhead almost the size of Decimus. He has the Legacy Council's bounty hunter tattoo on his jugular, while the others have it visible on the backs of their hands. From the looks of determination and distaste on their faces, the guns they're brandishing, and the trained hellhounds prowling into the room, it's clear they're not here for an alumni reunion.

One of the bounty hunters glances at the redhead. "You must've imagined it. Why the hell would the Nightmare Prince be here?"

The redhead uses his boot to turn over the corpse who just very kindly donated my new ensemble, minus his shoes and underwear.

"They didn't say in the official assignment, but my uncle was working here for the I.Q. and got a front-row seat when shit hit the fan. Just got a call from him warning me to watch out for the so-called 'lottery quintet,' which has the DeLune bastard in it, along with a bunch of other hotshots. He said their keeper is a telum , whatever the fuck that means."

I was just about to leave unseen to see why it's gone so hauntingly quiet in the castle. All the screams have mysteriously died out. But the mention of Maven makes me pause.

One of the other bounty hunters, a fae girl with pointed ears, snaps to attention with wide eyes. "What? That's impossible. Are you sure you heard him right, Asher?"

Asher. Hmm. Why does that name sound familiar?

"Yup."

"Oh, gods. Prophets have been warning us about the telum for centuries. My family used to say it was just a bit to scare legacies into behaving, but…" The fae swallows. "The telum is here?"

"Asher" pets one of the hellhounds as if it's a puppy instead of a monster with a strong taste for legacies. The Council has been selectively breeding them for decades to make them freakishly obedient to their bounty hunter masters. All they need is one taste of someone's blood, and they can track them within a thousand miles.

While he's petting the beast, I notice his green eyes are glowing as he scans the room.

Ah. This must be the Asher Douglas I've heard of—a bounty hunter notorious for his ability to track magic usage from great distances. A magic bloodhound, so to speak, who tracks down his targets based on their magic signatures. I must say, he doesn't resemble the other Douglas legacies much.

If he samples Maven's unique magic, he'll be able to hunt her easily.

"Relax. I'm sure this Maven Oakley chick will die just like any other legacy convict," he drawls. "And if she doesn't, we'll capture her and let the higher-ups deal with her. Dead or alive, there's one hell of a bounty on her head. And if any of you see the Nightmare Prince again, he's mine , got it? Now move in."

I watch from Limbo as they take formation to sweep through the school. On the one hand, I'm tempted to snap Douglas's neck for daring to speak my keeper's name in that tone. But on the other hand, slowly unraveling his psyche would be much more satisfying.

My markings light up in a blaze of angry purple. As usual, I feel a sharp tug in the direction where another swarm of wisps must be trying to get into the mortal realm. I grit my teeth, fighting the pull as I kick into the air, intent on finding Maven.

It doesn't take long.

I rise through the ceiling into the next floor of Everbound directly above the entry hall and stop midair. No wonder all the shouting and screaming has stopped.

Syntyche's scythe. They're all dead.

I drift above the massacre, which is a bit much even for me. Undead, battling rival legacies, and various monsters have been literally ripped to shreds. Their many bodies and innards now litter the floor or are impaled to the walls with daggers. Blood coats everything, splattered on the windows and dripping from various surfaces. Several hearts have been ripped out and scattered across the ground. It looks almost as bad as when a horde of wisps tears through a human town like a million faceless piranhas, leaving nothing but gore behind.

Is this the only hallway where this happened?

The gleam of something catches my eye, and I slip back into the mortal realm to withdraw Maven's adamantine dagger from the disembodied head of a small basilisk—a rare monster from the Nether that the Immortal Quintet must have stocked in First Placement.

I grin. So this is the macabre brushwork of my keeper, is it?

How frighteningly impressive.

But my smile drops away as a soft groan sounds in the otherwise silent hall— her groan. I rush to where I couldn't see her before, lying half-hidden behind a collapsed decorative hall table.

She's quite a sight, completely soaked in blood, and blinks groggily as I help her sit up. My gaze sweeps over her for any signs of damage. She's unharmed, thank the gods, but we both seem to notice the forgotten, still-beating heart clutched in one of her hands at the same time.

Quite the souvenir.

"I see you threw a party without inviting me, love," I tease, gently wiping blood off her pretty face.

Her unfocused attention drifts over the rest of the hall as she tosses the heart aside. "Oops."

"You berserked," I realize.

Maven rubs a spot on her abdomen as if checking for an injury that no longer exists. "I don't remember the fight, so yes. Pretty convenient that I bled out when I did because expiring is the only way to stop me once I lose it like that."

She's obviously still recovering from what she calls " expiring" —and I call my own personalized brand of hell. Perhaps I should be grateful that my keeper can return from a temporary death, but knowing I lost her even for those moments makes me want to massacre something myself.

Spine-tingling howls sound elsewhere in the castle, growing closer by the moment.

"Oh look, more party guests," she muses, making expectant grabby hands at her dagger, which I still hold.

I adore her, but she's in no condition for more of this. "Another time, love. If any of those hellhounds gets a taste of your blood, they'll be able to track you from here to Kansas."

She allows me to help her to her feet. I don't like how unsteady she is—she must be far more exhausted from reviving than she's letting on.

"We're not going to Kansas. Kenzie's family is in Nebraska."

I'd ask how that's relevant, but I can't focus on anything except getting my keeper away from here when the howls sound closer. Much as I dislike the risks, this calls for desperate measures.

"Might I take you for a waltz through Limbo, darling?"

"Only if you're waltzing me to the castle's smallest courtyard."

Her wish is my pleasure. As the hellhounds race up the nearby stairs, I turn Maven to face me and give her a serious look. "Keep your eyes closed. Limbo drives mortals mad when they're conscious, and I wouldn't want you to lose that deliciously dark mind of yours."

She smirks. "Too late. Let's go."

I grin in reply and pull her into my arms—and into Limbo—just as hellhounds leap into the hallway, followed closely by the bounty hunters. Their shouts of alarm and horror at the mess my keeper left behind quickly fade as I cover Maven's eyes with my hand and drift through the now-lifeless castle.

My heart is crashing in my chest, both from the thrill of holding Maven in my element and the increasing worry that we'll reemerge in the mortal realm with her mind in fragments.

"Nice heartbeat," she murmurs, where her head rests against my chest. "Can I peek now?"

I switch directions to move toward the courtyard that she requested, ignoring the flare of pain throughout my body as Limbo tries to pull me in another direction. "Do you fancy madness?"

"Since I 'fancy' you , the answer must be yes."

She's teasing, but I still find myself happily flustered. "Careful, love. I enjoy hearing that a little too much."

"You can move your hand. I've been in Limbo before and came out just fine."

I pause before the courtyard, glancing down at her. "When was this?"

"When I killed your father. He took me here to try disorienting me while we were fighting."

That obviously didn't work out in his favor.

She reaches up to remove my hand from her eyes, peering up at me curiously. I'm momentarily panicked that she's going to melt into a psychotic attack and shatter under the duress of this foreign plane, as I've seen happen to countless others.

Instead, she tips her head. "Why are your markings glowing?"

"It's to tell me that Limbo needs stewarding, or there will be tears between the planes of existence. But it will have to wait. You're feeling all right?" I check, fascinated.

Maven nods, glancing around as tendrils of her dark hair waft around her blood-streaked face. "Limbo is bizarre and otherworldly. Distorted. Some would call it disturbing."

"So you like it."

"That's what I just said."

I smile. It's unusual that Maven can withstand Limbo. Then again, she grew up in a far darker, unquestionably cruel plane of existence. Perhaps it's no wonder her mind can tolerate this dream plane more easily than most.

Yet the fact that she actively enjoys my domain pleases me more than I might have imagined.

Maven removes herself from my arms but takes my hand to pull me toward the exit. "Come on. The others are waiting."

"No need for doors here, darling."

I guide her through the castle wall and glance around the tiny courtyard. It's as it's always been, but Maven pulls me toward the old gardening shed. A moment later, we pass through a molding trapdoor into a claustrophobic, narrow, dark passageway. Catacombs, I realize. A dim light shines somewhere far down the hall, so we drift towards it, turning a couple of corners.

The light is from Dirk holding a torch. Their air elemental is unconscious and quite severely bloodied. Kenzie is fussing over her, while Frost and Decimus are scowling at each other as if they're in the middle of a heated argument—a surprise to no one, I'm sure. Crane lies on the dusty ground, drawing broken, ragged breaths. He looks awful.

"And I thought that fae couldn't possibly get any paler," I hum.

Maven crouches beside him in Limbo, tugging off her blood-soaked gloves. "Do you mind…?"

Right. I was enjoying our private little stroll through Limbo, but at least this part never gets old.

When I reappear, both my quintet members startle and swear about me scaring the shit out of them just as I expected. Decimus recovers quickly when he sees Maven also just appeared and is now testing Crane's forehead.

"Shit, did he just—were you just in—are you okay?" He fumbles in shock, pulling her up into his arms and burying his face in the side of her neck. He just as quickly jerks away, snarling, "Wait a fucking minute. Damn it, Boo, is this your blood?"

"Relax. Not all of it is." She pats his shoulder reassuringly. "Put me down. We need to get going before the bounty hunters catch up."

Frost tenses, looking at me. "None of their hellhounds got a taste of her, did they?"

I start to shake my head and then frown. She did bleed out in that hallway. Is there a chance they could pick her scent out amongst all that blood and death?

Kenzie jumps up with a smile to greet Maven when Decimus finally sets her down. "You made it! I was getting worried about—oh, ew. No offense, May, but you need a shower. And I mean more than the rest of us, which is seriously saying something at this point. Speaking of which, when we get to the ruins, are we just running or…more transportation magic?"

She looks as if she dreads the answer, but her idiotic vampire match pipes up as he turns to Maven. "Like I said before, why can't we just fucking transport already? You can at least do that much, right? Get us the hell out of here."

His tone toward her grates on my nerves, and I'm not the only one. Frost glares at him, and Decimus bares his teeth. If he weren’t important to someone important to Maven, I would have removed this vampire's head from his body the first time he insulted my keeper.

"Unless you'd like me to perform a laryngectomy on you with my bare hands, you won't breathe another word around my keeper again," I warn him darkly.

Although Kenzie shoots me an exasperated look for threatening her match, I don't miss the way Maven's lips twitch in amusement when the vampire goes pale at my threat. Her enjoyment of others' fear is delectable and something I intend to explore in the future.

"He's right that it's practical to transport from here," Maven muses. "Kenzie, I'll need you for the spell."

"Me? Why?"

"Because we're going to your hometown."

"We are? Why—oh! You're trying to get me home because you know my parents are probably worried sick about me after everything that just happened here at Everbound, and since they haven't heard from me since before the university went on lockdown, right? Not to mention, you probably know how much they want me home for Starfall Eve, right? That's really considerate and sweet of you, May!”

My keeper wrinkles her nose. "Stop. I'm just taking you somewhere relatively safe. Since you're from the middle of nowhere, it will also be a good place for us to lay low."

"Uh-huh, yeah, sure. Just admit that deep, deep down, hiding under all that hardcore badassery, you're a total sweetheart."

"Keep insulting me, and I'll leave you here to be the hellhounds' chew toy."

Kenzie laughs and moves toward Maven, but I tense.

"Wait, love. Let's not do the spell so close to the castle, or Douglas will be able to track it."

Frost swears. "Asher Douglas is here? If they sent him, they're sparing no resources."

"Maven just offed Somnus fucking DeLune. Of course, they're freaking out," Decimus points out.

Luka's head jerks back. Dirk does a double take at Maven, his eyes perfectly round.

"What? She… what now?"

The temperature drops sharply as Frost pins him with a look. "So? What will it be? Keeping your trap shut, or death by hypothermia?"

"Enough!" Kenzie snaps with surprising fire. Even when I glare at her, she doesn't cower as usual. She just swallows hard and lifts her chin. "Of course, we aren't going to tell anybody, so there will be no more threatening my quintet, do you hear me? Everyone in here is exhausted and really fucking crabby, so how about you three keep your traps shut until you can calm your tits?"

Did she just raise her voice at me?

I should remind her why they call me the Nightmare Prince.

But Maven's laugh stops me from scaring an apology out of the blond shifter. The temperature returns to normal when Frost glances at her, and Decimus gazes at her like a lovesick puppy. The big brute has to hunch slightly because this tunnel wasn't built tall enough for him.

Kenzie huffs, embarrassed. "Sorry. I didn't mean to snap."

"You did. Don't apologize for it." My keeper looks at me. "Will this Douglas guy be able to track my magic from the woods?"

"Not nearly as easily as he'll track it if you were to cast it here, in such close proximity to him."

She nods, glancing down at Crane, who is looking worse by the minute. She's careful to conceal her emotions, as always, but her voice breaks slightly. "Okay. We need to get him somewhere safe, and you all need rest."

Decimus frowns. "You need rest too, Boo."

"I told you to stop calling me that," she mumbles as she starts down the tunnel, but there's none of the usual fight in her voice because the dragon shifter is right. Today has been taxing, especially for her.

We make quick progress through the catacombs. Luka holds the flashlight, Dirk carries their elemental, and although Decimus gripes about having to carry Crane's "nerdy ass" bridal style, he at least makes sure Maven doesn't hear his complaint.

After several minutes, I move through Limbo to emerge at Maven's side. When I glance down at my obsession, she has a frown on her beautiful face, her very biteable lower lip protruding slightly.

"Something the matter, love?"

"It's fine."

"Tell me."

Maven sighs. "Not one haunting whisper, reanimated corpse, vengeful spirit, or cursed coffin. These catacombs suck."

I laugh. It's absolutely adorable when she pouts.