Twisted Soul (Cursed Legacies #3)

29. Maven

29

MAVEN

I stare at the demoness.

“You’re the whole reason he started the movement in the first place—and now I fucking get why! Quite the scent on her, huh? Told you so, shitface,” Eisha adds as Melchom and the twins sniff the air around us.

Melchom looks baffled. “Devils and dicks! I swear on your cheating little sluthole that she didn’t smell like this the last time I was around her.”

He inhales deeply again.

“Stop sniffing my mate,” Baelfire snaps, baring his teeth.

I ignore their weird tangent about my smell, still focused on Eisha’s words. “You’re mistaken. My parents were killed slowly and brutally in the surge before the liches took me away.”

The demoness snorts and motions for us to follow them to the tables, scooting them around until we can sit. At least, some of us sit. There aren’t enough chairs in this little restaurant, so Bael and Crypt stand behind us, and Everett and Silas sit on either side of me. Eisha takes the seat opposite the table. The other demons go to order food from the very distracted employee who apparently hasn’t noticed anything odd going on here.

Eisha examines me, shaking her head. “Infernal hells, I can’t believe that man was telling the truth. Told him he was a horny fucking dreamer, but here you are.”

“Your vague answers test my patience. Once again, both my parents died.”

She smirks. “Nah. Sure as sin, you’re Pietro Amato’s daughter, kid. You would’ve been only two years old when they dragged you away, so you can’t remember your parents—let alone them dying. Meaning all you know is what the chumps in the Nether told you, isn’t that right?”

That’s…true.

I frown, considering the possibility that my parents somehow survived the surge Dagon told me about. “What makes you so sure that I’m his kid?”

The other demons return to the table with multiple heaping plates of chicken, some kind of meat wrapped in bread, other steaming dishes, and sodas.

Eisha pushes a plate toward me.

I push it back.

“It’s not from your personality, I can tell you that much! Bet you got that shit from your mother.” She laughs and shakes her head, taking a whopping bite of chicken and nodding at my quintet, careful not to look at them again. “Do they want some?”

“I mean, if you’re offering—” Bael starts.

Crypt elbows him hard.

“No. We buy our own roadkill,” Everett says, watching with obvious disgust as the twins chow down like they’ve been starved for decades.

Eisha shrugs and smiles at me. “Listen, telum . Your dad was one hell of a guy.”

Hang on a second. “If you’re about to tell me you fucked him, I’ll vomit on your food.”

She bursts into riotous laughter, as do the other three demons.

“Oh, fuck, no,” Eisha wipes away a tear finally, shaking her head. “Amato was pussy-whipped by your mom like none other. If you ask me, that’s partly why he was so obsessed with getting you back from the Nether—he said you were the spitting image of her. Poor guy was determined to be the best dad in the whole damned world. Wanted to bring you up like a fucking princess all on his own.”

That answers that question.

No mother. Dead, or left us before I was taken.

“And somehow, he got along with your type?” I check, glancing at the demons. I’m not sure the twins can speak. Some demons don’t get the hang of human tongues very well.

“He was much more open-minded than most humans,” Eisha nods.

She offers me chicken again, more insistently, like it’s bugging her that I’m not eating. This time, Silas takes it from her and tosses it over his shoulder to drive the point home.

The demoness snorts. “You know, at first, we demons thought Amato was a damned idiot. Fucking soft, that guy. Used to be some hotshot doctor, and he cared about everyone and everything—would give a stranger the shirt off his back if he thought it would help ‘em. Always down for a chat about feelings, morals, life’s purpose, bettering the world?—”

“He sounds exhausting.”

“Yes, thank you!” she cackles. “That’s exactly what I told the fucker. Honestly, he drove us batty, but he wasn’t nearly as bad as most mortals. Even better, he was down to try any kind of shady shit to get you back. Blood tracing, necromantic rituals, soul-scrying—you name it, he tried it all for seven fucking years. That guy was so hells-bent on getting you back that I finally strong-armed him into telling me why. And you know what he said to me?”

I arch a brow expectantly.

“‘My daughter is my whole world. Without her, this one holds no meaning, ’” Eisha recites dramatically, following it with a harsh laugh and sipping her soda loudly. “And then he went on to spin what I thought was the most ridiculous fucking tall tale I’d ever heard, going on about how oh-so-special you were. ‘Course, now I get that he wasn’t pulling my tail.”

I wonder if she’s talking about me being a saint. That’s still not a can of worms I’m ready to open, so I tip my head.

“But you never met my mother?”

“Nah, I never had the displeasure. From what I hear, she didn’t run in the same circles as your father for what little time she was around. A real career woman—and not nearly as open-minded as Amato was about most shit, let alone about demons.”

I speak telepathically only to Everett.

So, your father helped vote to execute my supposed father. The more I learn about your parents, the more I’m not looking forward to meeting them.

Dear gods, no. They don’t deserve to meet you. Not to mention, they have some psychotic urge to win the telum over to be manipulated however they see fit. Baelfire wasn’t kidding about them being a nightmare. Then he pauses. I should probably tell you that I was there. When they executed Amato, I mean. Natalya did it.

I stare at the plates of food in front of us as the demons continue to devour their meal.

How strange to think that during those isolated, brutal first years of trying to survive in the Nether as a little girl, someone was here fighting like hell to get me back. Some idealistic, kind father who might’ve even loved me.

When it comes to father figures in my life, my experience has been strange—because, in an extremely inhuman, bizarre way, Amadeus genuinely cares about me. I wasn’t lying to Baelfire when I told him my adopted father wanted children. Whatever mysteries lay in Amadeus’s past, I’m positive he was once human, and some forlorn echo of his long-ago humanity led him to singling me out as someone he wanted to pretend was his own.

That’s why he doted on me—even if his method of doting meant extreme training methods, showing me off in gory battles to his Undead subjects, teaching me to be heartless, and eventually ripping my heart out to make me what he wanted.

Still, for being what he is, Amadeus tried to build an inhuman, paternal relationship with me.

Obviously I don’t see him like that.

If this Pietro Amato had somehow rescued me and taken me back to the mortal world to be a real father to me—gods, I can’t even imagine what that would have been like. It’s too foreign and strange.

But a part of me is almost… sad that I never met the man they say fought so hard for me.

He would probably be disappointed to see what I’ve become now.

I don’t realize I’ve completely tuned out of another conversation until Silas leans forward with a frown.

“What do you mean, you know someone in the Sanctuary? I know the Sanctuary well, and everyone there shuns demonology. You must be lying.”

To my surprise, it’s one of the twins who snorts. His voice is rough and accented. “Come off it, I’m not lying. Thanks to the weakening Divide, my brother and I fled the Nether recently. First, we took an offer of a deal to escape the citadel, and all we had to do was get a tricky legacy here in the mortal world to accept a big, secret mission straight from?—”

The other pierced demon elbows his brother. “Shut the fuck up! What’ve I told you about keeping your ugly mouth shut? You’ll spoil things.”

“What things?” I ask, arching a brow.

The pierced twins fumble and announce they’re done eating before they hurry out of the gas station.

Melchom rolls his eyes. “Demons fresh out of the Nether are a fucking pain in the ass. They’re just bumbling motherfuckers who can’t tell their tails from their dicks—but there’s family for ya, am I right?” he grins at me.

“I wouldn’t know. But if they’re related to you, it tracks.”

He laughs and elbows his girlfriend. “Ready to go, you infernal whore?”

Eisha rolls her eyes and shoves him so he nearly falls out of his chair. “Go on, and stop yapping at me. I’ll follow.”

Melchom starts to protest, but when he sees the way Crypt is still looking at him as if he’s envisioning the most painful method to peel the demon’s flesh off, he quickly leaves. I watch out the gas station window as he gets on a gleaming motorcycle in the parking lot beside the twins on their own motorcycles. The fourth empty bike must be Eisha’s.

Kenzie told me about motorcycles weeks ago, but it’s my first time seeing them in real life.

Those look fun.

Everett, Silas, and Crypt follow where I’m looking. Everett scoffs, speaking telepathically.

I’d offer to buy you one, but those things are death traps.

You seem to think that’s not a selling point . I watch one of the twins start his bike and rev the engine.

Driving an unwieldy, clunky car doesn’t come naturally to me.

But one of those? Yes, please.

Baelfire glances between us and scowls. “Damn it, what the fuck am I missing?”

That snaps me out of it, and I look back at Eisha.

“All you did was talk about Amato. You haven’t explained why you wanted a word with me, so spit it out.”

One corner of her lips draws up. She seems almost wistful, which is fucking weird for a demon.

“This was it, telum . Just wanted to meet you for myself.”

“Bullshit.”

She laughs. “Think whatever the fuck you want, but I just had to see what my old pal’s daughter was like. Gotta say, I’m not disappointed. You seem like a hell of a lot more fun than Amato was—but I’d still like to rip that immortal cunt’s head off myself for killing him. Speaking of which, I hope you know you’ve got our backing. Most of us demons in this realm stan you hard, kid.”

“You mean a bunch of disloyal, cheating, conniving, innocence-devouring Nether spawn are somehow on my side?” I clarify.

“Sure as fucking sin, we are.”

I don’t trust demons, but it’s a nice thought.

“One last question. How did you find me here?” I demand.

Eisha smirks. “Tracked the phone you used to call Mel a few days ago. Wasn’t easy, but did the trick.”

Damn it. I should have known. With a sigh, I pull the flip phone from my pocket, snap it in half, and drop it in the demon’s soda.

Eisha laughs uproariously as she stands to leave, nodding her chin at me. “Really, though. If you’re looking for help shredding the Legacy Council and bringing anarchy to the world, hit me up, telum .”

She finally leaves. I watch the four demons peel out of the parking lot on those pretty motorcycles.

Crypt drops into Limbo without a word as Baelfire grunts, “You know what? For demons, they weren’t as bad as I expected.”

“Are you serious? Did you see the way they ate?” Everett grimaces. “Fucking unhinged their jaws.”

Bael snorts and then leans down to kiss the top of my head. “All right. Game plan. We’ll get fries and shit here, but since we’ll be driving through the night, let’s also buy you some snacks to try from the gas station?—”

Crypt blurs back into existence, holding an armful of candy, chips, and bottled drinks.

“But buying is so overrated,” he grins.

“Hey, you. Tattoo Guy,” the girl behind the counter says, frowning as she pays attention for the first time since we walked in. “Are you going to pay for all of...”

She trails off, her mouth dropping open as her eyes widen. At first, I wonder if I got some of Eisha’s blood on my face or something, but then she points at me and shrieks.

“Wait! You’re—you’re the maniac on the news assassinating immortals! Oh my gods, oh my gods, oh my gods ?—”

She scrambles for her phone like she’s about to call human authorities.

“That’s our cue,” Everett announces, taking my hand as we run from the gas station.