Twisted Soul (Cursed Legacies #3)

6. Silas

6

SILAS

I redress in the same pants I awoke in—from my combat attire which is burned and stained from First Placement. Walking out of the bedroom, I glance over to see three glares of pure hatred pinned on me.

"Jealous?" I smirk.

"Taunt me right now, and I'll snap off every finger you laid on her," Crypt warns from where he appears to be rolling cigarettes at a small table.

"All of them, then," I taunt anyway.

Baelfire flips me off from the couch. "The only reason I didn't break down that door and toss you out to give it to our keeper the right way is because Maven deserved a moment alone with you after all the worry and shit you put her through."

That gives me a pause of guilt, knowing my keeper was so worried about me.

"I can't believe you couldn't keep yourself from mauling her immediately when you look and smell like that ," Everett adds, completely revolted as he turns back to glare out the window that is not-so-mysteriously hazing with a slight frost.

Bael stands and folds his arms, regarding me. "Huh. Thought you'd look different as a necromancer. Like a skeleton or something. So how the hell can you use both kinds of magic?"

Of course, he overheard. I look down at my hands and my slightly numbed, darkened fingertips. Perhaps I'll need to start wearing gloves as Maven does.

"I'm not sure. More importantly, how long was I out? Where are we?"

Everett crankily grumbles a short explanation—that it's been three days since First Placement, and we've been hiding out in Kenzie's hometown while they waited for me to recover. There has been no sign of us being followed yet. Still, apparently Asher fucking Douglas and countless other bounty hunters were assigned to look for us.

That means it's just a matter of time.

Once he's caught me up, he glances over his shoulder. "So… it's really gone?"

The other two stare hard at me, and I realize we're discussing my curse. How oddly relieving it is that I can now look at these three without seeing inevitable backstabbers out to annihilate me. Not that they're pleasant to look at still, but at least I'm no longer in danger of losing my mind and killing one of Maven's other matches.

Or worse, hurting her yet again .

"It's gone," I confirm.

They all look away, and it gets unusually quiet, except for Maven's muffled voice from the suite's other room. I suspect Baelfire can hear every word she's saying on the phone.

"I have a theory," Crypt muses.

Bael begins to pace. "I do, too."

"That makes three of us. Are we sharing these theories, or is it every man for himself as usual?" Everett asks.

Crypt answers by disappearing into Limbo.

Baelfire shrugs. "Let's not make another stupid fucking competition out of it, but Maven will be wearing my emblem next."

Everett rolls his eyes and returns to brooding. I mull everything over in my head as I shower and clean up. If we're being hunted, it will be difficult for Maven to go after the Immortal Quintet. I can't say that bothers me. Knowing that assassinating them would mark the end of her purpose and, therefore, the end of her life fills me with unspeakable anger. Although she plans on leaving one alive in her complex plan to free the humans in the Nether, I'd much prefer to spirit her away, far from anyone who wants to harm her.

But Maven made a blood oath to free those humans. I'll help however I can, so long as it doesn't put her at even more risk.

I'm just stepping out of the bathroom when Maven emerges, her lips pressed together. She looks painfully good in only panties and that shirt, the wide neckline of which shows off the top of my emblem. Seeing it makes my mouth water all over again.

"We're leaving tomorrow," she announces.

Baelfire is immediately at her side, shooting me a glare as he tries to wipe away the remaining dried streaks of blood on her neck.

"Leaving to where, Raincloud?”

"That, I haven't decided. Somewhere more rural than this."

Baelfire kisses her temple. "My family's territory near the Purcell mountain range is nice and remote. Only a fucking moron would try to trespass on Decimus land to get to you. My mom would roast them alive—not to mention, I’m sure she's been dying to meet you."

Maven hesitates. "The eyewitnesses who escaped along with the faculty have probably been running their mouths. She'll know by now that I'm the telum . My identity isn't a secret anymore."

Everett swears. "Damn it. You're right."

"My parents won't care," Baelfire confidently insists.

"I'm the Entity's scourge. I'm very literally a heartless, unnatural, death-fueled monster. Does that scream take her home to meet the parents to you?" she asks dryly.

Crypt abruptly appears next to us and grins. "It does, actually. I, for one, couldn't wait to introduce you to my parent."

"And now he's dead," our keeper points out.

He leans down to kiss the tip of her nose. "My point exactly, and yet another reason I adore you."

Twisted bastard.

Not that I blame him in this case. Somnus was a literal monster.

"Why do we need to leave tomorrow?" I ask, trying to get back to the topic at hand.

"That was Kenzie telling me that some older legacy knocked on her parents’ door asking if they'd seen people matching our descriptions. Her parents didn't reveal Kenzie was there with her quintet and said they hadn't seen us, but it probably means the bounty hunters are getting close. So we'll leave first thing tomorrow morning."

Everett nods and then frowns. "Was that the only update? You were in there a while."

"Kenzie spent fifteen minutes telling me about introducing her matches to her parents and ten more minutes trying to convince me that we should go to her favorite local diner for a date night. She insisted that we need a sense of normalcy as a quintet after everything we just went through, and as the keeper, it falls to me, etcetera, etcetera," Maven shrugs. She hesitates, glancing at us and then away before clearing her throat. "It's probably a bad idea, but would you guys want to...?"

Is she...asking us out?

It's almost amusing how nervous our typically unshakable keeper clearly is, but my blood blossom suggesting a date night sends eagerness racing through me. She fought this quintet so hard, so it's still a novel thing to know that she not only accepts us but wants us.

"Yes," all four of us say at the same time.

Crypt groans in disgust at our synchrony and pantomimes shooting himself.

"All right. It's a date."

Baelfire flashes her a bright, excited smile. "Fuck, yes! I've been dying to just do normal quintet shit with you. Can we make it dinner and a movie? It can be a gory slasher. Anything for my Spooky Boo."

"Call me that again, and you're uninvited."

"Fine. You want a new nickname? How about..." Baelfire rubs his face as if in deep thought. "Angel..."

We all burst into laughter at Maven's priceless expression. "You're kidding. Have you met me?"

"I wasn't done," he laughs. " Of Death. You're our pretty little Angel of Death."

Crypt winks at Maven. "Admit it, love, it's fitting."

She fights a smile and turns to me. " Anyway . If you four are coming with me tonight, we need to ensure you're all less recognizable. Especially Everett. Silas, can you access ingredients for a camouflage spell?"

Summoning blood magic to my fingertips, I reach into the pocket void I set up when I was six years old. It's a surprisingly simple spell, folding space in on itself to create this small storage that can be summoned anytime. It's stocked with all manner of ingredients. I pause when my fingers brush against the colorless plant that Crypt brought back from the Divide.

That elixir didn't work for Maven's last episode because I stupidly created it with blood magic. I'd felt painfully helpless when she faded away.

But now that I can use necromancy…

"Si?" Bael prompts. "You still with us?"

I shake off my thoughts and withdraw a small collection of ingredients we'll need—eye of newt, unicorn horn dust, a handful of dried moly leaves, a mortar and pestle, and so on.

Maven's face lights up at the promising display. It's such a rare expression on her that I can't help staring. Witnessing even the slightest amount of her happiness is like a dose of dopamine straight to my soul.

It makes me…

I can't tell if you're horny, thirsty, or…reverent, she thinks to me, arching a brow.

All of the above .

Baelfire squints between Maven and me. "Are you guys...?"

"They're having a telepathic conversation," Crypt agrees bitterly.

He may be an unhinged maniac, but no one can say he isn't observant.

All three assholes are glaring jealous daggers at me again, but Maven just holds up the moly leaves.

"Mind helping?"

I quickly begin helping her measure out the ingredients we'll need for a camouflage potion that should last for a few hours, but I note there are only four batches.

"Won't you need some?"

Maven studies the unicorn horn dust. "You've all been high-profile legacies your entire lives. I know for a fact you can easily be found on both human and legacy social media sites because Kenzie digitally stalked you four after the Seeking. The only picture ever taken of me is on Baelfire's phone from when I was trying to make you all hate me. He took the picture during class when he thought I wouldn't notice."

Baelfire grins unabashedly. "You saw that, huh?"

"You weren't subtle. Also, it's set as your lock screen."

"What can I say, cutie? You weren't taking it easy on my heart, and I wanted something besides your delicious scent to beat off to constantly."

Everett mutters something under his breath as I roll my eyes.

Crypt nods as if he finds the dragon's antics completely understandable. "You know, you might've shared, Decimus."

"As if you weren't beating your meat to the sight of her all the time from Limbo anyway, Stalker Boy,” Baelfire rolls his eyes. "Plus, you didn't have a fucking phone at the time, so how was I supposed to send you anything?"

“That’s beside the point. We really must get more photos of our girl."

"In lingerie," Bael nods. "Or literally anything."

"Or in nothing,” Crypt counters.

“Hell, yes. I pick Option C.”

“My point ," Maven goes on quickly, ignoring our smirks at her obvious need to change the subject, "is that I'm not recognizable. I don't need to be camouflaged."

I watch her skillfully grind the newt eyeballs and moly leaves together in the mortar. She will obviously have no trouble brewing this potion on her own, and once again, my thoughts return to the colorless plant in my pocket void.

Necromancer or not, never again will I sit helplessly by while my blood blossom is in pain.

When are we leaving on this date? I ask telepathically.

"As soon as these potions take effect," she mutters, not seeming to realize she replied out loud as she grinds more leaves.

The others watch her curiously, but I retreat to one of the rooms to try my hand at perfecting the elixir she may need again soon.