Page 29 of Divine Fate (Cursed Legacies #4)

28

SILAS

Fortunately for us, the leprechaun was still alive, and Everett found everything that was confiscated from us.

Unfortunately for me, my curse grew severe enough to take me in and out of consciousness until we returned to Everbound. Even now, back in our quintet apartment for the first time in six months, standing under the warm spray of a shower washing away all the gasoline and horrors of the day, I feel the madness crawling over my limbs like wet, hairy, long-legged spiders.

They bite and crawl and spin their vindictive, cruel webs all over my flesh until I scramble out of the water, scratching furiously at my skin as I try to catch my breath.

Blood , a voice in my head suggests. Blood would fix this. Blood fixes everything.

You need to strengthen yourself, my father agrees. All the world knows what you turned yourself into for that Undead harlot—and now they’ll come for you. They’ll slaughter you in your sleep. You must prepare yourself to use blood magic!

I dig my fingers into my wet hair, trying to breathe as I glare at my own naked reflection in the hall bathroom mirror. My reflection smiles viciously back at me, making the sign with his hands that fae use to ward off evil intent.

The voices are right on one count. I need Maven’s blood.

I crave it so much that just thinking about it makes my teeth ache, eager for my fangs to descend.

But aside from the beguiling, incredible flavor, it soothes my curse and makes me ever so slightly less dangerous to my keeper. It’s nighttime now at Everbound, and we’re all exhausted from Crypt’s rescue mission that quickly turned into brutal, near-death public humiliation.

Not to mention, torture.

So much pain, the demons in my head agree with a shudder. So much.

While the Frosts kept me separate from the others, they had a purple-haired fae caster practice “simple interrogation techniques” on me in one of the high-end hotel rooms. They were all amateur spells, and the caster herself was unimpressive at both attack and healing incantations. Still, although her techniques would have made the Garnet Wizard laugh in her face, it hurt enough to send the voices in my head into a tizzy of mad panic, dragging me under repeatedly.

I’m sure my blood blossom already suspects what they were doing to a necromancer like me. There’s no need to tell her about it when it would upset her.

And gods above, she’s already so upset.

Merely the thought of Maven holding back tears while Crypt suffered from his curse makes me groan in frustration, tearing at my hair once again. I loathe seeing my keeper unhappy, but I loathe how useless I am to her right now far more. If I were in my right mind, perhaps I could think of ways to lessen the others’ curses until we figure things out.

Figure things out, figure things out, figure things ? —

“Shut up,” I tell the voices as I storm out of the bathroom and into Maven’s large, quintet-sized room.

She’s not in here, but Crypt is on the bed, freshly showered and dressed in his usual attire minus the leather jacket as his markings remain lit up. His face is pinched, but when he sees me, he snorts.

“Forget something, Crane?”

“ Reverium ,” I blurt impatiently. “That helps your curse, so go and fucking get some. Don’t you see how iomadh thu— much you are upsetting our keeper?” I correct, scowling.

Baelfire opens the door of the bathroom connected to Maven’s room, wearing nothing but a towel, his collar and leash, and shimmering green goo. He sees me and laughs.

“So what, did you finally decide shifters are right about clothes being stupid? Are we all going to start hanging out in our birthday suits from now on?”

I realize I’m stark naked, but I’m so worked up that I just snap, “At least I’m not covered in slime, you fucking slob.”

Crypt barely holds back laughter. “The necromancer’s right, Decimus. Back to the shower your slimy self goes.”

Damn it all. I grimace. “That's in my head, isn’t it?”

“Whatever it is, yes,” Everett mutters, striding into the room in those ridiculous silk pajamas he always wears. He’s showered, as well, and looks exhausted, but he tenses when he looks around. “Where’s Maven?”

“She went to shower with you in your office,” I frown.

“She told me she would shower in here.” He swears, looking around for shoes as he’s clearly about to go look for her.

But there’s no need for him to go, because I hear Maven whisper from somewhere in this room. “You’re going to hurt me, Silas.”

“No, ima sangfluir ,” I say quickly, which makes Everett pause as he realizes I’m talking to her. “I swear I won’t.”

My assurance is useless, and I know it. How could the words of a madman comfort anyone?

“You already hurt me before,” she points out. “I know you’ll do it again. It’s just a matter of time. Look—you’re about to hurt me right now!”

I turn to face where her frightened voice is coming from and—gods above, she looks terrified of me. I choke, staggering away and dragging Baelfire in front of me as the realization that I might hurt her cuts me to the bone.

“Stop me. Injure me if that’s what it takes.”

He’s puzzled, reaching up to tug at his collar absentmindedly. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Injure me now so I don’t hurt ima thanafluir!” I shout, my panic mounting as my heart races.

Crypt’s markings have stopped glowing. He shrugs, sliding out of the quintet-sized bed. “Well, if he insists?—”

Baelfire casually shoves the incubus back onto the bed before folding his arms to face me. “Tempting, but Maven isn’t even in here right now, buddy.”

I check the spot where she just stood. Sure enough, there’s nothing.

“ Daingeath ,” I mutter. “I’m fucking insane.”

Baelfire and Crypt both look amused, but when Everett catches my eye, it’s far worse.

It’s sympathy.

“Don’t pity me,” I warn him.

“Too late. I always have,” he says quietly, looking away.

Scowling, I regard the three of them. “If our keeper ever is in the room, and I pose a risk to her, do whatever it takes to keep her safe. If necessary, kill me.”

That sobers the other two before Crypt hums. “Our loon’s on the right track. From this point on, be it from ourselves or from something else, keeping Maven safe is what we do.”

Baelfire tugs his collar again. “Whatever it takes.”

“We won’t lose her again,” Everett agrees quietly.

All four of us grow silent, but there's an understanding. It’s an unspoken thing between us, the four cursed fools who somehow fucked up so badly as a quintet that we lost our precious keeper. Whatever differences we’ve had in the past, and despite the curses now plaguing us, protecting Maven from any and every threat is more important than anything.

As if you are capable of protecting her , my father’s voice scoffs. You don’t even know where she is.

I turn toward the door, batting several tiny floating cherubs out of my way. “I’ll find her. Baelfire, if you don’t go back to being a leash-chewing lizard-brained beast, scrounge up something for Maven to eat when I bring her back.”

“Who the hell put you in charge?” he scoffs.

I ignore him, knowing he won’t be able to resist his bone-deep instincts to take care of his “mate” now that I’ve brought up food. “Everett, make this room less godsdamned freezing so our keeper won’t catch hypothermia when I bring her back. Crypt, go get reverium from Limbo to ease your curse or I’ll hex your cock with impotency so you won’t be able to please our keeper for weeks.”

“As if there aren’t plenty of ways to please our girl without a fucking cock, you obtuse bloodsucker,” he calls after me.

I can hear him swearing in irritation before I leave, the front door of the apartment closing behind me. I stride down the hall, ignoring every looming shadow and the paranoia my mind is steeped in. If Everett thought Maven was with us, and we thought she was with him, she obviously made us all believe something different so she could do something without our knowing.

Probably to keep us from worrying.

As if that’s fucking possible.

I'll worry about Maven until my final breath. My beautifully vicious blood blossom will just have to grow accustomed to us being overprotective, hovering, anxiously attached madmen for her for the rest of our lives.

If space is what she wants, she’ll have to use her godly powers to separate us from her.

A giant spider made of shadows crawls past in this frozen corridor. I pause, trying to decide if that was real. Since I can't be sure and suffocating suspicion is slowly climbing up my throat, I decide it's best to conceal myself.

Yes, hide, the voices in my head hiss.

Calling on the remainder of my blood magic from the last time I fed on Maven, I shroud myself in a simple but effective cloaking charm and pass through the empty halls unseen.

According to Everett, there are dozens upon dozens of people camping outside Everbound Castle’s front doors. I didn't see them when we arrived because I was in the thrall of my curse, but Nether humans, Reformists, reporters, and several others were gathered outside, hoping to get a glimpse of the demigoddess who was just revealed on live television.

We managed to get in unseen through an ancient servants’ entrance that Maven knew about. Still, it irks me to know so many await her outside.

Not her. They're here to kill you, demons in my head whisper and titter, echoing on repeat.

Soft whistling and the glow of a lantern catch my attention. Lillian rounds the corner, bundled heavily against the cold as she seems lost in thought. She passed me on her way back to her rooms for the night, but I decide it's likely she was just speaking with Maven, so I follow the direction she just came from.

It's not long before I pick up on two voices. My blood blossom’s, and Kenzie Baird’s.

“—you going to actually use all this salt Lillian brought you?” Kenzie is asking.

“Salt wards off ghosts,” Maven explains. “They're everywhere here. I grew up listening to the whispers and wails of restless spirits every night, but tonight I just want to sleep.”

“Oh, my gods. That gave me secondhand PTSD just now, monk.”

“That's not traumatic,” Maven grumbles. “What's traumatic is having the freshly dead parents of one of your quintet members haunting you and trying to get sent to the Beyond. The Frosts are so fucking entitled, even in death.”

Still cloaked and invisible, I emerge into an alcove where Maven and Kenzie both sit on an old stone bench beside a flickering lantern. Maven is freshly showered, hair still damp despite the wintry chill, and she holds a large bag of salt. She glances at a place in the cold alcove where I see Everett’s birth parents and several other strangers standing and glowering at her.

Either their ghosts followed her here, or they’re in my head, too.

Everyone in this alcove, living or dead, is plotting against you, my father whispers. Pathetic, useless son. You’ve signed your death in your own blood.

You'll bring me down with you when you fall, Maven's voice whispers in my head.

I rub my temples, resisting the urge to snap back at the voices.

The blond, curly-haired shifter is eyeing the bag in Maven's lap. “Is it weird that I’m craving salt like no one's fucking business, now that it's staring at me?”

“Be my guest.”

Kenzie opens the bag, tastes the salt, gags, and hands it back to Maven. “Never mind. Gods, I still cannot believe you were almost burned at the stake on live TV by your rich in-laws. I’m so fucking glad you went all demigoddess on their asses because watching that stupid fake trial was awful. You would not believe how much I was crying—and Vivienne was a total wreck, too. But now that everyone knows you're back, my quintet and I are fielding a bajillion questions and trying to keep all of the Halfton refugees from storming the castle and…oof. It's just pure chaos. Felix was right that people are not handling your return well. I mean, a lot of them are thrilled you're back, but they're being so weird about it, too. I’m pretty sure some of them are trying to, like…worship you.”

Maven makes a face and pulls her etherium knife from her boot to fidget with it. “Thanks for dealing with the shit show.”

“Anything for you,” Kenzie answers brightly, tossing her hair and adjusting her scarf. “Besides, I’m willing to take one for the team. Now that you have all of your guys back, you probably need to get back to having wild, unhinged sex with them, right? Come on, spill the deets,” she teases, elbowing my keeper lightly. “Crazy person sex is the best sex—how nasty do you guys get in bed now that they're missing a few marbles?”

Maven spins her knife, glaring at the ghosts in the corner again. “I wish I knew. But too much just happened, and they need time to process. No matter how much I’m aching for them, I can't just jump their bones whenever I feel like it.”