Page 19 of The Last Wish (Lost Legacy #1)

CHAPTER

NINETEEN

QUAID

T hey call it an alliance, a necessary evil. I call it verbal gymnastics. Last time I checked, our vows weren’t designed to bend. Our rules are black and white—the Synod of Hunters taught me that. There shouldn’t be any room for this grayscale hellscape they’ve dragged us into. But there’s nothing I can do about it.

I have my orders, which is why I’m crawling around on pine needles like a goddamn snake, itching like a motherfucker, and desperate to escape the humidity and hypocrisy. It’s just past five in the morning, and I can already feel the sweat dripping down my lower back from the muggy Missouri heat. I scratch at one of the bug bites on my neck and feel the scab give way. Blood dribbles out.

Wonderful. I might as well set off an air horn.

All around me, members of my team lay in similar positions, silently waiting, and likely itching too. We’re a dozen across and three deep. That’s thirty-six hunters strong, which is the biggest team I’ve ever been a part of.

Given how our numbers dwindle more each day, it’s a colossal risk to commit so many to one mission, especially based on intel provided by the enemy. It makes me uneasy. I breathe a sigh of relief when dawn comes and the sun bathes the ground in fang-proof light.

We rise together, creeping out of the woods and across a field covered in coarse, chest-high grass. The brittle blades scrape my exposed skin. They’ve grown out of control, ungoverned by grazing animals and nature’s checks and balances. It’s another sign—if you know what to look for—that this territory has been claimed by something unnatural.

Surrounding the large, ranch-style house, we leave no exit or entrance unguarded. They have nowhere to run with the sun on our side. Once the light of dawn infiltrates every nook and cranny, it’s time.

In sync, we charge from our hiding places, ripping off shutters, bashing in doors, and shattering the windows. After an hour of complete silence, broken only by the occasional trill of a bird or hum of a mosquito, the sudden noise is deafening.

Then terrified screams join the mix. The sound makes my skin crawl. I do my best to tune everything out, gritting my teeth and focusing on my orders: breach this house and kill everyone inside... permanently.

I climb through the nearest window, dodging shards of glass as I infiltrate what appears to be a simple living room. There are scattered books and a couple of worn looking couches.

An older female cowers in the corner away from the light. She looks like a normal human woman, her graying hair piled in a messy bun on top of her head. Her eyes widen with terror as they meet mine. Just as she’s about to speak, the window next to her implodes. The sunlight reaches her instantly, and I’ll never know what she might have said. She goes up in flames like an old newspaper doused in kerosene, her vestigial humanity wiped away by fiery justice.

I feel a grim sense of satisfaction.

Half a dozen piles of ash litter the room. My boots crunch on glass and ash as I make my way further inside, sending little puffs of desiccated vampire remains floating into the air. They clearly weren’t expecting an attack.

I form up with the rest of the squad assigned to this side of the house, and we move out to ensure each room is cleared. We find several more piles of ash, then a male, barely more than a boy, cowering in a closet. He’s covered in burns. Painful looking blisters run along the right side of his body.

“Where are the others?” I demand, watching his agony and fear fade only to be replaced by determination and defiance.

“Fuck you,” he spits, using the last of his strength to lunge toward me.

Considering his injuries, he’s faster than I expect, but I’m well trained. My body moves, muscle memory taking over. I drive my standard-issue stake into his heart without an ounce of hesitation, ramming it past his breastbone until I hear the grisly crack.

In death, his arms reach for me but his eyes are focused on something behind me. I look over my shoulder and see another door.

I kick the corpse away. As soon as my boot makes contact, the vampire crumbles to ash. I slam the closet door closed and head towards the room he died looking at.

Three teen girls are cramped inside a narrow bathroom, tears streaming down their faces and hatred burning in their eyes. Several hunters join me at the threshold and start arguing over who gets to make the kills. Idiots. This isn’t about clout—it’s about justice.

“We aren’t animals,” one girl says, placing her slight body in between us and the other two. “What gives you the right to hunt us down and slaughter us?”

I tilt my head and look her over. She’s short—the other females stand at least a head taller, but her size doesn’t stop her from trying to protect them. Despite the way her body trembles with fear and rage, she doesn’t give an inch. Her hair is dark brown, her eyes a vibrant green.

The resemblance stops me in my tracks.

“Shut up, bitch,” a recruit shouts at the vampire threateningly, but makes no move to attack. “You’re a violation of nature.”

I hear footsteps approaching behind me, but I can’t stop staring at the girl—I’m gutted both by my memories and her ferocity.

“Quit fucking around and end this,” a deep voice growls behind me.

I recognize it without looking.

Angus. A grizzled hunter, my mentor, and a meaner bastard than any I’ve ever met. He doesn’t wait to see if we follow his orders. He tosses a can into the room, and it tips over. Gasoline glugs out of the nozzle, spreading along the cracks of the cheap linoleum floor in a noxious smelling delta.

The females have only a second to stare at the spilling fuel before Angus tosses a match on the ground. The vampires scream. He slams the door in their faces.

“Let’s go. The entire house is about to go up.” He grunts, narrowing his eyes at me. “Get moving. All of you.”

My limbs feel wooden and hollow as I’m caught up in the exodus. The group jostles me until I can make my legs carry me, stumbling, out into the yard. Wails follow me outside, drowning out the sounds of crackling flames and my fellow hunters. I suck in the air greedily but immediately regret it. The pungent stench of accelerant and fire threatens to choke me as the agonized screams fall silent one by one. I hold my breath.

We took the horde of vampires completely off guard. More than a dozen of the dangerous creatures are dead and dusted. We suffered no casualties. On top of that, the intel I was so worried about turned out to be sound.

I should be thrilled, but I can’t quiet the sick feeling in my gut. This isn’t our way; we don’t do dirty work for the very beings we dedicate our lives to hunting. I look at the sooty faces around me. Most are grinning and chattering about our victory. No one looks the way I feel.

Why isn’t anyone else asking questions?

My nausea spikes, and I stagger to an unoccupied corner of the yard, dodging a few burning clumps of grass. I lose the contents of my stomach on top of an angry anthill, grateful that I tied my braids back this morning. When there’s nothing left to purge, I drag the back of my hand across my mouth. It’s shaking. I will it to stop. I take a swig of water from my canteen as a bead of sweat drips off my chin and lands in the dust.

After I’ve managed a few deep breaths, I turn back toward the burning house. Angus stands at the corner, his arms crossed as he watches me. I say nothing and neither does he, but I feel his eyes on me for the entire march back to the rendezvous point.

SHEENA

Brush, spit, rinse, and repeat. Running my tongue over my freshly cleaned teeth, I pull my hair into a high, tight ponytail and square my shoulders. Supernatural boot camp is back in business. But there’s a conversation I need to have first.

It’s been radio silence from Ciprian since I called him out for being a bad friend. Now that I know it wasn’t quite the premeditated ambush I first imagined, I’m eager to clear the air. Callum put him in a tough spot. Even with all the bad blood between them, Ciprian refused to throw his brother under the bus. That warms my heart.

I slide into my cutoff shorts and tank top and pull out my phone with a sigh. There’s no point in stalling any longer.

Can we talk?

Why?

Because we had a fight

Blood… tears… yelling in front of an audience. Remember?

It’s early, Sheena

Who’s Sheena? This is bestie

Are you sure? I fucking scared you

Yeah you did

But you’re a literal nightmare and I’m scared of everything

For the record, I am sorry

I know you are. I am too.

What the fuck for?

I was too harsh on you

ffs we need to work on your killer instinct

So, breakfast?

Ciprian suggests we meet at a nearby diner for breakfast. I’m a little—okay, a lot—nervous about going out in public, but he assures me the diner’s owned and operated by the enclave and not very busy this time of year. Callum and Gideon won’t like it if I leave the protection of the compound, but I’m not about to ask for anyone’s permission to go out to eat.

Stepping out of the bathroom, I paste a cheery smile on my face. “I’m going to breakfast with Ciprian.”

Gideon pauses in the middle of sliding into his gray sweatpants and smiles up at me. “If you’ll wait two minutes, I’ll walk down with you.”

I admire his flexing muscles for a moment, then shrug. “It’s actually a few miles away, I think. He says it’s a diner.”

Callum looks up from his phone, brow furrowed. Now that they know I don’t mean Sarah’s kitchen down the hall, I have their complete attention.

“Eggs N Bakin’?”

“Yeah, that sounds right.” I slip into my shoes.

“I love their pancakes. I’ll come too,” Gideon says, dressing now at about twice the speed he started with.

“Well, Ciprian and I were going to talk,” I explain, trying not to hurt his feelings.

“That’s a good idea, baby. I want you two to make up.” Gideon trails off, then he meets my eyes. “But I’m scared shitless for you to go out without me right now.”

I feel his genuine worry echoing in my heart and consider backing out.

A muscle in Callum’s jaw twitches. Here it comes.

“Sorry, I thought we were training today.” He makes a show of snuggling back into his pillow, his voice dripping with playful sarcasm. “If I’d known you were going to throw yourself into the line of fire for a buttered biscuit, I would have slept in. Thank the gods you decided to bring a hung over idiot for backup.”

“Your brother isn’t an idiot.” I cross my arms, feeling duty bound to defend my soon to be restored best friend. “And we don’t know that he’s hung over.”

I hold Callum’s gaze and refuse to blink, but winning a staring contest with an annoyed incubus is harder than it sounds, especially when he doesn’t fight fair. Instead of arguing, Callum throws back the covers and crawls toward where I’m standing by the end of the bed. I see miles of naked skin, rippling muscles covered in intricate tattoos, and a filthy smirk I can practically feel against my skin.

I take a step closer, then remember my principles. Snap out of it, Sheena.

Channeling my inner strategist, I pivot and cover my eyes, cutting my losses and ending the staring contest. But it’s a mistake, because now I don’t know where Callum is—and fuck me, why is that so hot? Gideon’s laugh booms somewhere to my right, and I feel a warm breath on my neck. I tense.

“Stop right there,” I demand. “Callum, you can’t try to win arguments by being naked and hot.”

“I don’t see why not.” His voice melts in my ears. “I have to play to my strengths after all, sweetheart.” He grazes his stubble against the sensitive skin of my neck.

“You could always take your clothes off and level the playing field, baby,” Gideon suggests, and I groan in frustration.

“Can we be serious about this, please? I can’t live scared all the time. Been there, done that—do not recommend.”

“I don’t want you to,” Callum grumbles, running his fingers over my cheek. “I also don’t want you to be the girl who runs into danger and dies first like in horror movies.”

“Those women are usually blonde,” Gideon says.

Our bedroom door clicks open.

“Whoa, did I walk in on some kinky role play?”

I drop my hand to see a grinning Ciprian standing in the entryway with two greasy paper bags clutched in his hands. He looks like a total fuckboy dressed in his dark jeans, a backwards cap, and a vintage band t-shirt. He scrunches up his nose at the sight of his brother kneeling naked in front of me on the bed.

“After I took some ibuprofen and knocked out my hangover,” Ciprian says. Callum looks at me triumphantly, but I ignore him. “I realized it would be dumb to take baby Kazaam out in public while it’s basically open season on djinn. So I grabbed takeout instead.”

Ciprian hands a greasy bag to Gideon. Then he rattles one at me like I’m some sort of feral cat and smiles hesitantly. I snatch the bag from his hand, drop it on the coffee table, and then throw my arms around him. After a tiny pause, he sighs and squeezes me back, resting his cheek on the top of my head.

“I’m really sorry,” he murmurs.

“It’s already forgiven.” I pull back from the hug and he groans.

“We need to add ‘holding a grudge’ to your lesson plan. I’m starting to worry about your fundamentals,” Ciprian jokes, turning to look at the guys.

Gideon digs through his takeout bag with enthusiasm while Callum finally gets dressed.

“I grabbed you both your usual, but you’re going to have to take it to-go.” Ciprian points to the door as he sits down on the love seat, obsidian eyes sparkling with mischief. “This is bestie time.”

“Yeah, yeah. We already heard we weren’t invited.” Gideon grabs me for a toe-curling kiss, then saunters out the door with his food.

Callum finishes dressing, covering his messy dark hair with a ball cap. I sink onto the love seat next to Ciprian, unwrap my breakfast sandwich, and watch both brothers subtly. With hats covering their hair and matching tense expressions, they look more alike than I’ve ever seen them.

Callum trudges over to us. “First, I told you he would be hung over,” he says to me. It’s not the greatest start, but Ciprian just shrugs and stuffs a home fry in his mouth. “Second, I’m sorry for putting you in that position, Ciprian. I was freaking out, and I made a mistake. I should never have asked you to do that.”

By the time he’s done, Callum’s jaw is so tight I can practically hear it creaking. Ciprian sits there gaping at his brother, so I grind my elbow into his ribs until he snaps out of it.

“It’s okay. Next time, I’ll tell you when your plans are shit,” Ciprian says, pushing my elbow away and standing to shake his brother’s hand.

It’s a good start for them, and I can’t help bouncing a little in excitement.

“For fuck’s sake, Sheena.” Ciprian bumps me with his hip. “I can literally feel you overreacting. It’s giving me indigestion.”

I hide my smile around a huge bite of breakfast sandwich as Callum goes back to pretending his brother isn’t there. He bends over and peppers tiny kisses all over my neck, making me giggle and squirm at the tickling sensation.

“Training at nine?” Callum asks.

I give him a nod and Ciprian sends him a sarcastic salute as he turns to leave.

When the door closes behind him, Ciprian turns to me, a long-suffering look on his face. “You two are gross. You should work on that.”

Ciprian and I walk out to the training ground two minutes before nine. There are a few people milling around outside. They aren’t paying us any attention now, but I know that could change, especially if I lose my shit again. People love a good supernatural meltdown.

“Why do we have to do this outside, anyway?” I gripe, swinging my foot at a pebble in my path. I miss and nearly fall on my ass. Ciprian’s lip twitches, but he doesn’t laugh. I pretend nothing happened. “It’s not like we’re fist fighting around your mom’s precious gargoyle.”

“No magic indoors. It’s always been the rule.” He shrugs. “Mother thinks it disturbs the energy in the house or something.”

I level him with a disbelieving look. “But the energy is already...”

“Macabre? Insidious? Oppressive?”

I laugh as he rattles off synonyms. We enter the training ring together and find both Gideon and Callum waiting for us with matching nervous smiles.

“Hey, baby,” Gideon says.

“When Ciprian pulls you into the vision, look for the edges.” Callum starts out all business, and it actually helps me feel grounded. “Once you can identify the edge?—”

“It will ripple or shimmer slightly,” Gideon interrupts.

Callum nods and continues. “Then you’ll focus on peeling the illusion back. Like a sticker.”

“Or pushing it away like a heavy piece of furniture,” Gideon suggests.

I nod emphatically, bracing for whatever nightmare Ciprian has in store for me. “Ripples and shimmers, stickers and furniture, push or pull—got it.”

I turn to Ciprian, expecting to see nerves on his face as well, but he looks absolutely diabolical. So much so that I take a wary step back. I spent enough time in foster care to recognize when someone is up to something.

His calculating wink is the last thing I see before the edges of my vision flicker.

I glance at Callum and Gideon to see if they notice anything, but they’re not looking at me anymore. I’m about to tell them that nothing has changed when I notice a ripple around one of the puffy clouds above us.

Oh shit. We are in a vision. I start scanning the training ground for differences, determined not to fuck this up.

Gideon takes a step towards Callum and grabs his bicep in one of his massive hands. “Please, don’t go. I’ve always been in love with you.”

Gideon rubs his thumb across Callum’s arm, then crowds him against the fence. When Callum yanks the taller man down into a hungry kiss, Ciprian’s earlier wink begins to make sense to me. As I watch my boyfriends make out, the temperature climbs. I fan myself and grin.

“Oh my gods.” Ciprian’s disgruntled voice echoes inside my head. “This is my apology vision, Sheena, but you at least have to try to push me out before I’m scarred for life.”

I choke on a laugh. There is literally no incentive for me to kick this illusion out. Instead of trying to peel or push like they suggested, I sit down cross-legged on the ground and watch the sexy tableau unfold.

When Callum yanks Gideon’s shirt off and grinds against him roughly, a groan of appreciation escapes me. The sound must push him too far because Ciprian suddenly appears in front of me, blocking my view and glowering down at me.

“Ha-ha. You’re hilarious. Now, are you going to train or get off in the courtyard?”

“Do I get a choice?” I ask, smirking up at him, then looking around his legs so I don’t miss the show. Gideon unbuttons Callum’s pants, and a drip of sweat trickles down his muscular neck. “This is fantastic, Ciprian. Cinematic even. Can you conjure me up some popcorn?”

He narrows his eyes at me like a wasp, then a full bowl of popcorn materializes over my head. Upside-down. Salty kernels rain down on me. It’s so lifelike; I swear I can feel butter in my hair.

I pop a piece in my mouth and immediately spit it out. “The taste is off, Ciprian.” I gag. “Your spell is broken.”

“It’s not a spell, and I’m not a fucking witch. I’m a demon,” he roars down at me. “Now at least try to push me out, or this wet dream is going to turn into a nightmare really fast.”

I take one last look at the steamy scene in front of me and sigh, standing up. “Fine. If you’re going to be a dick about it.”

Looking up, I find the fluffy cloud with the irregularity around the edges. I try shoving it mentally and manage to flatten it, but the vision doesn’t end. I try again, furrowing my brow and pushing harder. It dissolves like a dandelion in the wind. Before I can celebrate, the cloud rematerializes with the same shimmering edges.

Maybe Gideon’s idea of pushing isn’t for me.

This time, I only focus on the edges. I imagine working my thumbnail under it like a sticker on a used book and tug gently. Part of the illusion comes loose, so I pull harder, unveiling strip after strip of reality juxtaposed alongside the illusion. Eventually, the real Callum and Gideon are standing next to their vision versions, staring at me with confusion and concern. Ciprian looks angry and slightly nauseous.

I muffle a giggle and focus on peeling back the last pieces of the illusion I missed. Some strips come loose easily and others hang on for dear life. By the time I finish, sweat is trickling down my back and a faint headache throbs at the base of my skull.

“Congratulations,” Ciprian grumbles. “You’re a voyeur and I’m a hundred years older.”

“What the hell did you show her?” Gideon demands, taking a step toward me and flaring his nostrils. “Sheena, are you... horny?”

“Please, stop.” Ciprian covers his mouth with his hand. “I’m going to lose my breakfast.”

Callum stares between us with suspicion, his eyes narrowing on me. “What was the illusion, Sheena?”

“Well, it was you and Gideon.” I smirk, looking them both up and down. Not knowing is killing them, and I really want to see how they react. “And you were feeling very affectionate towards each other.”

Once my meaning sinks in, Gideon roars with laughter. Callum rolls his eyes at his brother, but I can see how flushed he is by the idea.

“Dude, no one attacking her is going to show her something sexy.”

His criticism is the final nail in the coffin for Ciprian. He throws his hands up in the air, dislodging his hat in the process.

“I fucking know that. It was supposed to be a quick apology vision, a warm-up joke or whatever. Now I’m traumatized.” He glares at us all. “You three are the worst. No helpful suggestions or thanks. It’s always just ‘Ciprian, your visions are too scary. Ciprian, your visions are too sexy.’ Well, fuck you all very much. I should have just killed Gideon again and been done with it.”

By the end of his rant, his platinum hair is standing on end, and the rest of us have given up fighting our laughter. Walking toward him, I pick up his baseball cap and dust it off, standing on my tiptoes to put it back on his head.

“Thank you, Ciprian. I definitely won’t forget that vision,” I say. His black eyes are still roiling with shadows like the night sky during a storm, but I see some of the tension leave his shoulders. “Could you show me something a little scarier so I can practice again?”

He nods at me gruffly. When his eyes lose focus, I square my shoulders and get ready to go again.

For the next three hours, I do my best to dismantle the mix of scenarios he conjures up with his illusions. I run through the woods with wolves biting at my heels. I dodge a witch trying to light me on fire. I even sword fight with a vampire pirate on the deck of a ship at sea.

The visions are so realistic; it’s like being dropped in the middle of a movie. I feel the tree roots beneath my feet, the witch’s flames licking at my skin, and taste the salty spray from the waves as I struggle to keep my footing.

Despite the distractions, I hunt down the weaknesses one by one, peeling back the visions a little faster each time. Once I manage to break through the imaginary sea and come back to the real courtyard, my shirt is sticking to my sweaty skin, and I can’t ignore the throbbing in my head any longer.

Gideon must be able to tell I’m gassed because he’s quick to step in.

“That’s enough for now. You did an amazing job, baby.” He wraps one big arm around my drooping shoulders, supporting me without making it obvious that I need it. The bond between us thrums happily with the contact.

I look over at Ciprian, and I’m somewhat relieved to see he looks just as exhausted as me. His pale skin is pink and splotchy, and with the way his brow is pinched together, I bet he’s fighting a headache as well.

“Let’s go get some lunch,” Callum suggests, looking between his brother and I. “I think you both might have pushed a little too hard.”

Ciprian waves off the concern, but we all notice his hand trembling. “It’s fine. I’ll nap, then go see a horror movie or something.” At my questioning look, he grins. “I feed on fear. I can do it through my visions if the reaction is strong enough, but that costs me energy as well. If I’m in a room full of scared kids, though, I’ll be full to the brim in an hour or two.”

“Sounds like a nightmare.”

They all groan at my bad joke.