Twisted Soul (Cursed Legacies #3)

37. Everett

37

EVERETT

On your right, Silas warns just in time for me to turn and freeze a hellhound.

The fight continues, but with Maven and Silas now in the mix, it starts to lean in our favor—until I hear Silas swear nearby over the loud fight.

A necromantic spell he’s casting fizzles out as he tries to dodge a coyote shifter. Its claws still slice shallowly through his chest. He falls back, rolling away from the shifter until I stab it with my ice saber and kick it aside.

“Two types of magic, and you're still useless,” I huff.

He glares at me, red irises blazing. “Only with a Void nearby.”

Shit. I almost forgot about the Void.

I help him stand, and we turn to watch a tall, thin woman with completely whited-out eyes walk into the street. All magic dies within a few yards of her. She's getting closer to where Maven is gleefully slaughtering our enemies with crackling explosions of dark magic—but before we can warn our keeper, Crypt blurs into existence behind the Void and snaps her neck.

Okay, then. That problem was solved way easier than I thought.

Except then, Crypt’s voice comes urgently through the bond.

Our pretty berserker has come out to play.

As soon as he points it out, I can see it, too. The way Maven is tearing through the decreasing enemies has changed completely. Her movements are just as brutal but far less calculated and precise. She still sweeps through the legacies and hellhounds like death itself—only now she’s completely wild, flinging herself into each new threat with a deranged, breathtaking bloodlust evident in every movement.

She’s too far gone to notice when two bullets hit her.

Or when a hellhound clamps its jaw around her thigh, tearing at her flesh.

Fuck, Baelfire swears through the bond. She’s going to get herself killed.

Baelfire’s dragon slices through the hellhound latched onto our keeper with one massive claw. The dragon’s tail wraps around the berserker, trying to prevent her from diving back into the fight. But he roars in shock and pain when more dark magic explodes from her body, crackling over his tail and sending the massive beast staggering in agony.

Our berserking keeper immediately darts back into the massacre. Silas and I race after her, using magic and ice to blast enemies away from our out-of-control keeper before they can harm her. She rips out hearts, tears hellhounds to pieces with her magic, and sends crackling waves of her uniquely unholy ability through anything living that she sees, leaving a path of blood and excessive gore in her wake.

Unstoppable and fueled by death. The perfect weapon.

Except if we’re not careful, she can be killed permanently.

We cannot let her expire here, Silas grits through the bond as he takes down a powerful caster. Blood is dripping from his nose, but he ignores it. Natalya knows the ways to kill a revenant and will have passed those methods on to her army. If Maven expires, she will be vulnerable to being ripped to shreds or burned to ash while unconscious.

I swear when another bullet grazes my right arm. Turning around, I send a blast of ice into any enemies racing after us to make sure no one attacks from behind.

Baelfire’s dragon roars and crushes more legacies before he speaks telepathically. During training, she said the only way to snap her out of this is by expiring, but I’m not fucking hurting her.

I’ve got a better idea , Crypt says.

Just as I turn back around, he drops out of Limbo—directly onto Maven’s back.

Oh, fuck. The berserker is going to rip him limb from limb, just like she’s done to everything else that has made the mistake of getting too close to her.

Crackling black magic blooms around the death-craving revenant as she tries to attack Crypt, but even though he must be in agony, the incubus reaches down to cradle Maven’s head. He grimaces, swearing viciously as his markings light up brightly.

Silas and I move to shield the two of them from any more threats. Luckily, the fight is waning as many opponents have started to run from the terrifying revenant. The few who remain are primarily focused on the biggest target—Baelfire. Silas and I take care of any legacies or hellhounds who approach as Crypt tries like hell to use his sleep-inducing ability on the berserker.

Her dark magic finally dissipates. I risk a glance over my shoulder, relieved to see that Maven is blessedly unconscious.

“Thank the gods,” I mutter.

Silas sends some necromantic spell at two wolf shifters racing toward us, but his gaze slips to the sky.

“Those godsdamned humans and their love of drama,” he scowls.

Glancing up, I swear.

A news helicopter is hovering high in the sky, getting footage of the fight in the street below. Baelfire snarls and pauses in chasing enemies away to shoot a warning column of blinding blue fire into the air. It’s nowhere near close enough to endanger the idiot humans looking for a scoop, but it does seem to frighten the pilot into his good senses because the helicopter slowly backs off.

Not nearly as many enemies remain now, and the ones that do are attacking Baelfire. I let Silas stay on guard and crouch beside Maven, who is sleeping on the black pavement of the blood-soaked street.

Crypt looks exhausted as he finally pulls his hands away from her head, wiping sweat off his brow. His leather jacket is missing, and he has a nasty-looking cut on one forearm that’s struggling to heal.

“Scyntyche’s scythe, our girl is strong,” he mutters. “That took nearly everything I had.”

“Let’s hope she wakes up as Maven instead of the thing that did all of this,” I say, turning to survey the dying aftermath of the battle.

But then I freeze.

Natalya Genovese is standing at the end of the blood-and-corpse-filled street, dressed in a shimmering cut-out dress like she was just about to hit her favorite high-end club. Her auburn hair is brighter under the rising dawn as her glowing blue gaze falls to Maven, still unconscious on the ground.

Silas spots her, too, and swears. “She can’t get into our heads, so why are her eyes glowing?”

Shit, Baelfire says through the bond. This is so fucking creepy.

Not willing to take my eyes off Maven’s final immortal target, I use my peripheries to see what he’s talking about. The remaining legacies who were just retreating are now approaching, their movements and steps in perfect synchrony.

A dozen or so casters raise their hands at the same time. The handful of remaining shifters howl, snarl, hiss, or roar at once. Three bounty hunters cock their guns and take aim simultaneously.

They’re like puppets now. Completely under the vampyr’s control.

All at once, perfectly coordinated attacks surge around us. I throw a thick ice shield around Maven just as Crypt leaps away, drawing out his enchanted sword to attack the nearest enemy. Baelfire swivels, his neck swinging low as he goes right for Natalya—but just as he opens his mouth to breathe fire, one of the mind-controlled bounty hunters fires off a tranquilizer that tags the beast in the roof of his mouth.

He roars, shuddering as he crashes into the row of historic Baltimore houses. I’m so busy freezing anything that comes close to my shielded keeper that I don’t see the toppling building beside me until it’s too late.

“Shit,” I swear.

I try to roll and end up buried in debris up to my neck, weight crushing my chest. Pain lights up my right arm.

Broken. Great.

I try struggling, but I’m completely pinned as the others fight the creepily coordinated attacks of Natalya’s puppets. Baelfire has lost his dragon form and is passed out from the tranquilizer. Crypt and Silas try to keep the mind-controlled legacies away from Maven’s icy enclosure. But Silas’s magic is flagging, and as I watch, Crypt is tackled from behind by a fucking bear shifter.

Meanwhile, Natalya Genovese uses her vamp speed to dart to where I’m trying to summon ice—but I’m also running out of steam. I can’t breathe under this heavy mass of bricks and shit.

Natalya shows off her fangs as she examines me, preening like the well-dressed predator she is. “Why can’t I get into your handsome head?”

I’ve never been so grateful for Silas’s magic. If we survive this, I’ll even thank him.

The immortal reaches down, her hand wrapping around my neck. I choke in pain as she pulls me out of the crushing debris like it weighs nothing to her—but then, in a blindingly fast move, she pins me to the asphalt with my hands over my head. Struggling against her is like fighting against steel bands.

Fucking vampyr strength.

Natalya’s blue eyes still glow, her pupils like hungry pinpricks as she bares her fangs at me again, this time with a carnal smile. Somewhere in the fight, I hear a loud crack?—

Like ice breaking.

Like someone just got through Maven’s shield.

Maven? I send through the bond, alarmed as I struggle.

I try to send a spike of ice up beside my head to stab Natalya, but she’s too fast and dodges the spike with ease.

“Worry not, I’ll let my new friends rip that hideous revenant of yours to shreds,” she purrs. “It won’t be long now, and I just cannot stand getting my hands dirty when they could be so much more pleasantly occupied.”

I strain away from her, bending my neck desperately to see if Maven is okay—but the bitch takes the opportunity to lick my neck.

Dear gods, that is fucking repulsive.

I gag and try to freeze her, but the glaze of ice barely encompasses Natalya before she breaks out of it as easily as a snake shedding its skin. Proof that I’m tapped out from the fight.

“Get the fuck off of me,” I grit out.

From somewhere beyond this horrific moment, I hear Silas shout before it gets quiet.

Really damn quiet.

Natalya has the audacity to fucking giggle , batting her eyes at me. “I think I’ll keep you alive. I’ve always wanted to play with a Frost. Now that your brothers have fallen and I’ve won, let’s take a look at how your keeper looks in pieces, shall we?”

She darts upright, pulling me with her. I struggle to keep my footing, looking around desperately for Maven.

I don’t see her, but I do see why it’s quiet.

The rest of Natalya’s puppets are now dead, their corpses joining the countless others on the street. The only people left standing are Silas and Crypt, but just barely. Both of them look like injury-riddled shit as they turn to face us.

Just as Natalya hisses in displeased anger, Maven blurs to a stop in front of us, moving quicker than a shifter. The vampyr drops me, reaching for Maven with an infuriated shriek.

Maven moves faster. She sidesteps the immortal, ducks under another attack, reaches around Natalya’s head, and?—

Rips it clean off.

“That’s for Amato,” she mutters as the immortal falls.

I watch in disgusted, morbid fascination as my keeper drops the head before reaching down and searching Natalya’s headless corpse. She removes a choker necklace from some hidden pocket inside the cut-out dress’s skirt, sets it on the asphalt, and wastes no time driving Pierce into it.

As the pendant shatters, I realize it was etherium.

Immediately, the ground rumbles like there’s a distant earthquake. The dawn seems to dim, and snow begins to fall lightly from clouds that have steadily crept into the sky during the ambush. Everything feels darker—almost less colorful, somehow.

The Nether is creeping into the mortal realm even more.

“Snowdrop,” I breathe in relief, kicking aside the shattered etherium necklace to wrap her in my arms.

Well—arm. The broken one isn’t moving very well.

Maven hugs me back weakly before pulling away, her breaths labored. She grimaces. “Her life force is really fucking potent.”

Shit. “Silas?—”

“On it,” he says, pulling the briefcase out of his pocket void and quickly handing Maven one of the clear etherium pieces.

She grimaces and whispers the strange words until the stone darkens. Silas accepts it and places it with the other two for safekeeping until our keeper needs them later. For a moment, the four of us stand beaten, bloodied, and exhausted in the aftermath of the brutal fight.

Until I notice Silas visibly flinch, closing his eyes as he becomes even paler than usual.

“You good?” I frown.

“There are many ghosts here. Scyntyche is reaping,” he murmurs hoarsely.

A chill rolls over my back as I glance around. Of course, I see nothing because I’m not a fucking necromancer, but knowing the goddess of death, fate, time, and so much else is nearby is…chilling.

Baelfire coughs nearby. We all look over as he sits up and yanks the tranquilizer out of his mouth with a grimace. The shifter’s face lights up when he sees the four of us before he notices the headless immortal.

“Holy fuck. We did it!”

“Maven did it,” I correct, glancing up at the sky when I hear another helicopter approaching. “We can’t stick around here, Snowdrop.”

She doesn’t respond, her eyes closed as if in concentration.

Or—shit, is she in pain?

“Darling?” Crypt checks, stepping over a couple of bodies to cradle her face. His markings glow softly, but he ignores them. “Maven?”

“What’s going on?” Baelfire demands, hauling his ass up to approach. As usual, he’s butt-ass naked after a shift, streaked in ash and dirt.

Maven’s lashes flutter open, relief stark on her face as she looks at the four of us. Her voice has a surprisingly emotional rasp to it. “It worked. The humans can leave the Nether.”

“How do you know for sure?” I frown, reaching out to brush dirt from her jaw.

“Felix has a piece of etherium that I marked with a beacon spell before I left the Nether. He just activated it. I’ll transport us to where my spell was set off.” She takes a deep breath. “And when we get there, the exodus won’t be far behind.”