Twisted Soul (Cursed Legacies #3)

38. Silas

38

SILAS

The sky over North Carolina is a thick blanket of turbulent dark clouds as far as the eye can see while I heal Everett’s broken arm—the last of our significant injuries.

The white-haired elemental sits on an old stone bench in the cemetery where we appeared when Maven transported us after the ambush. This cemetery is connected to a massive, empty field of dirt and brambles on the brink of the encroaching Divide.

The Divide itself lurks along one side of the cemetery and field, a towering wall of perturbing dark gray, like a misty veil.

I can sense it even from here. The powerful, old magic humming in the air, now barely keeping the Nether at bay.

Maven stands waiting for the caster named Felix where we first appeared. Crypt waits next to her, smoking reverium and ignoring his glowing markings.

Meanwhile, Baelfire paces nearby as he waits for his phone call to be answered. He’s dressed in spare clothes, which I’m now thanking all six gods that I tossed into my void pouch at some juncture—otherwise, all the poor humans escaping the Nether would be greeted by the idiot’s bare ass.

“Mom?” he checks when Brigid Decimus picks up the phone. I can’t hear her on the other end, but he breathes in relief. “Yeah, we did. No, I’m good—we are all. Yeah, it got pretty fucking rough. What do you mean, footage? Oh, shit, I didn’t realize they filmed that.” He listens for a moment and then grunts. “You’re right. Maven wants any willing Reformists here as soon as fucking possible for when the shadow fiends start to pour out. I’ll send you the coordinates.”

As he talks, I finish with Everett’s arm and straighten, grimacing at my sore muscles. Our entire quintet is sore and exhausted. We’ve been patching ourselves up as best we can while we wait, but we’ll require serious time to recover and rest once this is over.

Earlier, Maven insisted I feed on her to heal the others in any way they need. The intoxicating flavor of her blood has only deepened, becoming richer and even more addictive as she has grown stronger with the completion of our quintet.

It was truthfully a challenge to stop drinking from her pretty neck.

Baelfire hangs up and moves closer to our waiting keeper. “My mom said the Reformist aid will be here within thirty minutes.”

Maven glances over her shoulder. Like the rest of us, she is still dirty from the ambush. Yet somehow, the rough look is incredibly flattering on her—her dark hair tied in a ponytail, her olive skin smudged with dirt and blood, the flash of those cunning eyes.

My keeper will forever take my breath away.

“That’s fast,” she replies to Baelfire.

“They kinda started prepping when they saw us on the news,” he shrugs, pocketing his phone.

As if his words summoned it, we all hear a helicopter in the distance.

“Why does that thing seem to be looking for us?” Maven asks.

“It’s a news helicopter. Humans want to see what’s going on. I wouldn’t be surprised if they tried to land and interview you,” Everett grumbles.

She pulls a face. “Gag me with a knife.”

Crypt laughs. “But darling, I have something far more enjoyable for you to gag on.”

I roll my eyes. Our keeper grins and starts to say something, but we all snap to attention when a flash of green light is followed by a figure stepping into the cemetery from the Divide.

It’s a thin young man, possibly Everett or Crypt’s age. He has brown hair, pale skin, dark circles under his hazel eyes, and only one arm, which holds an almost laughable makeshift weapon of a piece of etherium affixed to a stick. His haggard clothing looks like something a medieval peasant would wear.

Still, his voice is strong when he greets Maven without his expression changing. “You did it.”

“You doubted me?”

His attention slips to the world behind us, and his strange, Maven-like composure slips momentarily as his voice cracks. “Gods. This is the mortal realm? It’s…it’s so colorful . And bright.”

“It’s a fucking cemetery on a dark and cloudy day,” Baelfire points out.

That draws the caster’s attention to us, and he blinks, recomposing himself. “Who are these guys?”

“Felix, this is my quintet,” Maven says breezily, motioning to each of us. “Silas, Baelfire, Everett, and Crypt. Guys, this is Felix.”

His eyes widen slightly like he doesn’t want to show too much emotion. “These are your gods-selected matches? My gods, these poor men.”

Crypt’s eyes narrow. “Did you just insult my keeper?”

Felix coughs, glancing at Maven. “That one looks like he wants to kill me.”

“He will if you answer wrong,” she grins at him.

Baelfire huffs. Quit giving him your smiles , he says through the bond. Those are mine, Boo.

So jealous , she teases.

Meanwhile, Felix flinches back. “Did…did you just fucking smile?”

She shrugs. “We can show emotions here.”

“Sure, but…it’s you . That just seems wrong. Not to mention, you seem way too chatty for the telum I know.” He squints hard at her eyes. “But your pupils are round. How are you not a changeling?”

Maven regards Felix seriously. “Where are the humans? Is the plan going smoothly?”

The caster quickly replaces his poker face and turns business-like, explaining that the frightened humans who have escaped and been on the run for over a day are about to breach the Divide. He just needs to set up one more spell on this end to make passing through more bearable for them since their weak constitutions put them at risk of succumbing to the gods-placed ward.

He also says that monsters won’t be far behind the escaping humans but that Lillian is at the back of the massive group, helping to fend off any dangers that may chase after them.

I frown. “Does Lillian possess magic to fend off dangers?”

Felix shakes his head. “She’s just capable and selfless.”

“Just like my mate,” Bael grins. “All right, let’s get this show on the road. How can we help?”

I meet Everett’s eye. He nods and steps away to make a call. Our brief planning session should help immensely once the humans are through, but in the interest of getting them here, I step forward to address Felix.

“Teach me the spell you’re using. I’ll help you set it up on this side.”

He hesitates. “It’s a complicated spell?—”

I level him with a look that makes him cut off. “Don’t presume to underestimate me.”

He finally notices my pointed ears. “Oh—shit. You’re a blood fae. Um, okay, if you want my blood?—”

Maven rolls her eyes and steps to my side, tilting her head to the left to offer her neck. My mouth waters immediately, and I hold back a moan of delight when my fangs first pierce her skin there, my arms wrapping around her on instinct.

A gratifying rush of delicious power sweeps through me as I swallow, drawing again as my heart pounds euphorically. I can practically feel the bond between Maven and I shudder with our combined pleasure.

You’re taking too much, Everett grumbles through the bond.

I release Maven’s neck, licking away the last precious remnants of her blood from the tiny fang pricks on her neck as my body buzzes with power and intimate hunger. She meets my eye as I pull away, and I smirk at the way she’s practically eye-fucking me here in the cemetery.

When I turn back to Felix, he’s turned around entirely like he’s trying not to witness something inappropriate.

“I can help now,” I inform him, walking past him to the edge of the gray veil that is the Divide.

The caster is clearly still uncomfortable from the display of feeding as he describes a waypoint spell I’ve never heard of before. As I help him lay the runes and recite the needed incantations to stretch the waypoint all along this section of the Divide—from the cemetery through the field—I note that although he does seem a bit enfeebled from growing up in the Nether, he has an impressive grasp of magic and especially of fae-specific incantations.

Out of curiosity, once the waypoint spell has been laid and hums to life before us, I turn and arch a brow at him.

“à bheil linguam matris ah’gad?”

Meaning, Do you speak my mother tongue?

His eyes light up, and he tames a smile. “ Anns antiquo dòigh, tha.”

In the ancient way, yes.

Interesting.

Before I can ask more, Felix says he needs to go back and guide the first humans through the Divide so the others can follow. He slips into the dark wall of gray at the waypoint we established, and I return to Maven and the others.

We wait.

And wait.

At long last, the bright light of a transportation spell appears in the field beside the cemetery—a group of Reformists, judging by the blue they’re wearing and the smiles on their faces when they see my quintet.

But the brightest smile of all is Kenzie Baird’s as she rushes into the cemetery, squealing like this is the best day of her life and not a tenuous escape plan that will almost certainly end in a fight with shadow fiends.

“Maven fucking Oakley! Surprise!”

Maven blinks rapidly as her friend goes to hug her, but Crypt holds up an arm to block the lioness shifter. That doesn’t dampen Kenzie’s spirit. She bounces on her tiptoes in excitement as more Reformists transport into the nearby field.

“Are you so surprised? You look so surprised and also super covered in blood, which I’m learning is just an official look for you. Ta-da! I joined the Reformists. I mean, for a while there, I kept asking my parents if they were anti-legacy activists, and they kept saying no. But then they told me all about this movement and how it fully supports you, and I was like, well, then of course I’ll join. Oh, fuck—is that where the humans are going to enter?” she asks, pointing at the massive glowing spell designating the waypoint.

Maven nods.

Kenzie squeals again. “Oh, my gods! This is so exciting and also kind of terrifying and?—”

“Is it safe for you to be here?” Maven frowns.

“Pfft—fuck safe. Have those humans been safe? No. And I might not be a full-blown shifter thanks to my curse, but I can fucking help however I can, so don’t even say I can’t.”

“I didn’t mean that. I’m just surprised. In a good way,” Maven tacks on, smiling at Kenzie.

Kenzie beams and then blinks multiple times over her shoulder at us. “Damn, you all look awful. I mean, I saw that you guys were in a horrible fight live on the news a little bit ago, but it’s way worse in person.”

“Thanks for that, Baird,” Everett rolls his eyes.

Maven glances at the field next to us where Reformists are gathering and frowns. “Is that Harlow Carter?”

“Yep! She’s a Reformist now. So are most of the asscasters who survived the shit that went down at Everbound. I guess it makes sense that they’re on board with reforming the system since the system is kind of rough on their survival chances at the moment,” Kenzie grimaces, blowing a strand of pale curly hair out of her face. Her face lights up, and she waves at Vivienne and Luka, who have just arrived with one of the other transporting casters. “My quintet joined, too, by the way.”

As she chats off my keeper’s ear, I frown when I sense something appear in one of my hands, buzzing like a phone that needs to be answered.

When I raise the Scarab-shaped amulet, tingling with familiar magic, I understand immediately and answer the communications spell placed on it.

“You truly are old-fashioned,” I sigh, stepping away from the others for privacy. I wander through old gravestones, gazing at the stormy sky overhead and wondering if it’s an omen. “You do know phones exist now, don’t you?”

The Garnet Wizard’s voice is muffled because of the spell, cutting out now and then. “Enough cheek. I have a message for your keeper.”

When I pass by an old, fading statue of the goddess Syntyche, a cloak concealing her face and her scythe propped over one shoulder, I can’t help the shiver that rolls over me.

“Then why not send this to her?” I ask.

“Don’t be daft. You know that I know your magic well enough to send you a communication anywhere in the world. I barely know your keeper’s magic well enough—and this message could not be missed, for it is quite important.”

He cuts out for a moment. I frown. “Repeat that.”

“I said, tell your keeper that Zuma’s paramour left the Sanctuary without permission, and she followed him despite my trying to stop her. I have sent acolytes out looking, so they should be found swiftly.”

I pause. “He left without permission? How? The wards should completely prevent that.”

“I am investigating how this happened. Just tell your keeper at once.”

The Scarab amulet vanishes.

I sigh. Ever the eccentric.

I move back toward Maven, intent on sharing the update—but just as I approach her, the glowing waypoint flashes on our side of the Divide, lighting up the gray wall throughout the cemetery and field. Everyone present, including my quintet and the Reformists, goes still and quiet as we watch the first of the humans escape the Nether.

They’re all haggard, barefoot, gray-skinned, dressed in rags, and streaked with dirt and sweat as they venture into the field. And they’re all women and children. With a start, I realize the humans have sent their most vulnerable first to get them away from danger the fastest. Pregnant women, wide-eyed, terrified children, and other trembling humans make their way out of the Divide.

Many burst into tears.

Others collapse as if the journey to get here took all their strength.

It’s a surprisingly touching sight. At once, the present Reformists, including Kenzie and her quintet, hurry to help. They support the fallen humans and offer words of comfort, welcoming them to the mortal realm.

Unfortunately, many of the malnourished escapees are bone-thin. Others have visible wounds. They need the supplies and other aid.

When I glance at Everett again, he nods.

It will all arrive soon, he says through the bond.

Maven tips her head. What will arrive soon?

I didn’t mean to send that to you, he says sheepishly.

Her eyes narrow. He fidgets with his sleeve, a flush crawling over his cheeks.

Aid, I inform her finally. When you wished to know what we were up to, that was it—planning resources and assistance for the humans once they are safely in this world. Emergency medical help. Food. Temporary housing. Transportation to safety away from the Divide and the legacy government.

Maven stares at me and then at Everett, Crypt, and Baelfire. You guys were...planning more help for the Nether humans?

We all nod.

She looks away, a smile brushing over her face and vanishing just as quickly as she tries to tame her emotion. I suspect our keeper speaks through the bond because she doesn’t trust her voice to remain steady.

Gods. You’re all such fucking softies. But…thank you.

Crypt leans over to kiss her temple. You can thank us properly later when we give you those twenty-three orgasms.

That’s way too many fucking orgasms, she argues. Then she pauses, tipping her head. Isn’t it?

Only one way to know for sure, Baelfire grins. We’ll keep a scoreboard and everything. Whoever contributes the most to your birthday orgasms wins ? —

A howl in the distance makes us all tense. Even the Reformists in the nearby field go still, recognizing the approach of hellhounds. The Nether humans are pouring through the waypoint now, rushing into freedom by the hundreds, but some of them slow in alarm when they hear the hellhounds braying.

Maven swears and storms out of the cemetery toward the howling. We follow her, passing by many tearful, awe-struck humans from the Nether until we near a small forest at the edge of the barren field.

A hellhound leaps out from the trees. I lift my hand to rip it in half with blood magic, but then a voice firmly says, “ Heel .”

Douglas emerges from the forest along with a handful of other bounty hunters and their hellish dogs. Baelfire growls while Crypt’s markings light up ominously.

But Douglas ignores them, looking behind us at the humans fleeing into the mortal realm.

Then he studies Maven, debating. “We’ll help.”

“What?” one of the other bounty hunters snaps angrily. “She’s the fucking telum. We’re supposed to kill her!”

“Try,” Crypt warns darkly, smiling without humor.

Douglas shakes his head, still holding Maven’s stare. “This is why I wanted to question you, but now it’s fucking obvious that the rumors were right for once. So. Will you accept more help?”

“How about an apology for hunting us like dogs first?” I point out dryly.

Douglas snorts. “Apologies are worth shit. Action is all that matters.”

Maven smirks. “I knew I liked you.”

Baelfire sighs, dropping his head forward. Raincloud, are you fucking trying to make us jealous?

The other irritated bounty hunter swears angrily, having had enough. He takes aim at Maven—but just as I notice and step in front of her, Douglas turns and promptly shoots his comrade in the leg.

The other bounty hunter goes down with a sharp cry. His pet hellhound bares its teeth at Douglas, but Douglas’s massive black hellhound snarls menacingly, snapping its teeth close enough to the other pet that it whines and yields.

Douglas looks at the other hunters. “Now, does anyone else feel like being a fucking moron, or are we going to help these people escape the Nether?”

The others don’t argue.

“Good. When shadow fiends escape, you have dibs,” Maven says decisively before turning to walk back to the waypoint where the humans are still emerging into the mortal world in droves.

Douglas makes a face as he and the other bounty hunters fall into step with us. “You can’t call dibs for someone else, you fucking?—”

“Stop there, or I’ll have to disappoint my keeper by slaughtering you and your friends,” Crypt says in a too-eager tone.

The bounty hunter glares at the incubus. “You’re lucky I haven’t ended your miserable fucking existence for killing my dad.”

“Your dad,” Crypt parrots distractedly, clearly bored of the conversation as he busies himself with checking out Maven’s incredible ass in her tight dark leggings as she walks ahead of us.

It would be a lie if I claimed I wasn’t just doing the same thing.

“How do you not fucking remember?” Asher Douglas snaps at Crypt. His fist clenches white around his gun as his hellhound walks obediently behind him.

The Nightmare Prince shrugs. “I kill a lot of people. Try being more specific.”

“You drowned him in his own blood, you sick motherfucking freak.”

“Hmm. Drowned in blood. Oh—right, him,” Crypt nods, finally checking back into the conversation, grinning as if they’re discussing a fond memory. Then he levels Asher with a hard stare. “That bloke was abusing his wife in a sickening number of ways. He more than deserved it.”

“No shit. That’s why I vowed to put a bullet in his head—then you had to go and fucking steal the chance from me,” Asher mutters.

My brows go up. What an unexpected response.

Crypt says something flippant in reply to the hunter, but my attention turns to Maven again as I finally have a moment to relate to her the message I received.

My mentor told me Zuma and her lover left the Sanctuary, I tell her in fae through the bond.

She stiffens but continues walking. Why did he let them leave?

He didn’t.

Maven is quiet for a long moment, thinking. Wherever Engela is shouldn’t matter.

My attention latches onto the Divide where the humans are emerging. The gray wall is wavering and shaky, as if its instability has only worsened since we’ve been here.

What happens if the Divide falls before you can restabilize it, my blood blossom? I ask.

Then I fail. I can only weaken and stabilize it—it can’t be rebuilt from nothing.

Then, where Engela is does matter. Because if anything happens to her— I begin, frowning as I realize that elemental is the only thing standing between Maven fulfilling her purpose as a revenant.

Maven looks over her shoulder at me briefly, her dark eyes determined. The humans need to get through the Divide. That’s our top priority. As soon as they are through, we’re taking the etherium filled with the life forces of the Immortal Quintet to the nearest temple, which is twenty minutes away. Any priest or priestess can bless the stones the way we need to finish refortifying the Divide. We can do this.

As always, her fierce determination leaves me breathless.

As we near the cemetery, the bounty hunters break off to help the arriving humans. Many are in terrible condition, so it’s a relief when I finally see several ambulances drive onto the far end of the field from an old dirt road. More vehicles also begin to arrive, the drivers rushing to open the backs of their vans to offer water bottles, food, and other emergency aid to the countless wide-eyed, filthy humans who just escaped captivity. Others offer jackets and gloves for the cold.

I don’t miss the relief in Maven’s expression as she witnesses all the help gathering for those she just freed.

She cares deeply for these poor humans.

And as I watch hundreds more stream into the mortal world, I can see why. They’re a stark contrast to legacies, who believe the weak should be culled. Instead, I watch as the humans prioritize the weakest and most vulnerable among themselves, supporting one another and ensuring those who need help the most receive it first.

Though these people appear haunted and frightened by this new world, and although they most carefully conceal their emotions just as Felix and Maven do, their eyes are still full of great hope. Many whisper quiet, genuine thanks, while others fall to pray to the gods in gratitude.

Fascinating. These humans have none of the powerful abilities that my quintet possesses, yet they emanate quiet strength and resilience. All the suffering they’ve gone through, and not a drop of bitterness toward the gods.

Reaching out to squeeze Maven’s hand, I join the Reformists in welcoming the Nether humans into their new lives.