Filed To Story: Cursed Legacies Series Free PDF by Morgan B Lee
“If you’re going to threaten me with a fight, at least bring someone who knows what he’s doing. Where’s Douglas?”
“Still cleaning up the mess you left in Alaska,” another one of the hunters growls. The fearful disgust on his face makes me think his trigger finger is getting itchy. “He wants you brought in alive for questioning—but if you resist, we get to kill you finally. Except I say we just fucking take you out here and now.”
“Stand down, Radley,” the fae girl snaps.
“Look around! She just fucking assassinated everyone here!” he shouts. “Did you forget your cousin was just murdered in Alaska by this bitch? I don’t care what Douglas says. We don’t need answers—we need the telum dead!”
That makes all of them start shouting. The girl in charge is pissed as she glances over her shoulder at them, snapping that Douglas has a plan and they need to shut up.
Their poor unity is the perfect opening. I send a surge of dark magic through the air, sending them all flying backward with shouts of pain and alarm. Hellhounds bark and whine, caught in the entangled mess of agony that my unique magic causes.
I use the fastest transportation spell I can muster to send me back to an alleyway in Madrid. I stumble, bracing myself against the brick wall beside me as I try to catch my breath.
I can heal more of my injuries before returning to Nebraska. That way, my guys won’t lose their shit when they see me.
And then we’ll have to get the fuck away from any trace of my magic before we’re hunted down again—because killing Del Mar just bought me more time, and I intend to use it.
EVERETT
It’s been nearly three horrible hours since I woke up from what I thought was death.
The first hour was spent in an agonized panic, struggling to form words after whatever the hell that wraith did to me. Silas was the same way, Crypt was nowhere to be found, and Baelfire was still unconscious.
When we tried to reach Maven through the bond, all we got was, I’ll be back soon.
And then she fucking blocked us out.
In the second hour, Baelfire finally woke up. Except it wasn’t actually him, just the beast living inside him. If I ever thought his inner dragon was a pain in the ass before, it had nothing on this. Silas had to stun the big oaf with magic twice in a row to keep him from shifting in a blind, snarling rage.
Whatever that fucking wraith did to him, it took a while before Baelfire was able to come to the phone, metaphorically speaking. Then we were a healing, cussing, pissed-off trio on the verge of killing each other—especially because we still couldn’t reach Maven. Or Crypt, for that matter.
Until finally, I drew the damn line.
So, Maven decided to leave us here to go do shit by herself? I don’t blame her. How useless are we to her that we get in a fight of that proportion, followed by a visit from my new definition of hell personified, and yet she had to patch us up all alone and shoulder on? She’s probably exhausted, pushing herself too hard to meet the deadline the Entity gave her so she can save people she cares about.
And here we are, whining like a bunch of fucking toddlers.
But not anymore—there is no way I’m sitting around on my ass while she is out there doing gods-know-what. We’re going to be useful to our keeper if it’s the last godsdamned thing we do.
When I went off on Silas and Baelfire to say all of that, it shut their squabbling right up.
The last thirty minutes have been spent far more productively. By all three of us.
Working and planning together.
Dear gods, it really must be the end of times.
I lean back from the small suite dining table, babying my injured shoulder from the wolf shifter who bit me back in Alaska. Silas can’t use more blood magic for healing until he feeds from Maven, not to mention he’s in shitty shape himself. We all are.
“All right,” I mutter. “I’ll make the call. I’ll need to use your phone, Dragon Breath.”
Baelfire practically throws it at my face before he stalks to the bathroom to shower off the remaining blood he’s coated in. Just because we’ve been productive doesn’t mean we aren’t still pissed the fuck off about everything that happened today.
I wander into one of the suite’s bedrooms as the cell phone rings. I’m almost sure he won’t pick up when there is a click and a long sigh.
“Can’t you let me fake my death in peace, Evie?”
“I’ve told you a million times not to call me that,” I point out, staring out the window at the sunlit little Nebraska town. Snow is piled up on the sides of the street, and humans chatter happily as they stroll here or there. Such normal lives, taking it easy during the holidays.
I envy them. I’d give fucking anything to spend the holidays with Maven just spoiling her and not on the run.
My contact huffs over the phone. “Yeah? Well, I’ve told you a million times not to call me, period. Yet somehow I know that when some unknown number calls my fresh start number at an absolutely ungodly hour?—“
“It’s ten in the morning where you are,” I point out.
“You know what? It’s always an ungodly time for you to call me because, like I said, I’m pretending to be dead. So who’s the asshole here?”
“Probably me,” I admit.
“Damn straight.”
“I need your expertise, Ian.”
The vampire grumbles, and I hear something knocked around on the other end like he’s rummaging in a fridge. “This is supposed to be my retirement, you know.”
“Twenty-five is a little young for retirement.”
“Not with a bank account as big as mine,” Ian crows, laughing. Then he sighs. “Damn it, that really doesn’t land with you, huh? It’s like comparing a hill to a fucking diamond mine. By the way, I noticed that all the real estate you bought a few years ago keeps increasing in value, despite what everyone said—including me. You’re annoyingly good at business, you know that? Shrewd as your old man.”
I grimace. I’ve gotten that so-called compliment plenty of times. As if it’s not enough to look like the councilman, I also have to naturally take after him in so many ways that people can’t help comparing me to him. Even Ian, who knows how much I dislike my parents.
Especially now that I know they’ve been bullshitting me about my curse for my entire fucking life.
Anger wells up again at the thought of that fake prophecy translation and how much it has screwed with me. I pinch the bridge of my nose.
“This is important, Ian. Really fucking important. The only reason I’m calling you is because we grew up together, and I know with absolute certainty that you take secrets to your grave.”
“Hence why you entrusted me with taking care of your dogs and discreetly keeping an eye on your sister from a distance. She’s safe, by the way,” Ian adds, his voice softening.
Shit. Heidi.
Amid all this political upheaval between humans and legacies, she should have been my first thought. There’s just been so much going on that I didn’t stop to wonder how she’s faring in the rural human town where she’s grown up.
“She just dumped another human boyfriend,” Ian adds. “Might need someone to cheer her up. Like, say, I don’t know…a hot, very available vampire who already knows everything about her and would be the perfect rebound, if nothing else. Just say the word?—“
“For the last fucking time, no.”
“Oh, come on. Why not? We’ve known each other forever, and you know I’d take good care of her, Evie.”
I scowl, lowering my voice enough that I know Baelfire won’t overhear from the other room. None of my quintet except Maven knows that Heidi exists, and I’d like to keep it that way.
“What I know is that my sister is not up for discussion. She wants a peaceful, human-like life, and that’s what she’s going to fucking get. She’s gone through too much shit to get tangled up with you, of all people. Keep an eye on her and make sure she’s safe and has funds for anything she needs. Otherwise, leave her the hell alone, or I will drive an icicle so far up your ass, you’ll be coughing up snowflakes. Got it?”
Ian sighs again, muttering under his breath. “Look, just tell me what you need. And to be clear, I will overcharge you for my services.”
“I’d expect nothing less.”
Fifteen minutes later, I rejoin the others and blink when I see that Crypt is back. He’s covered in blood, lounging on the couch completely naked, smoking reverium with his sword stabbed into the carpet.
I get that he just returned from tending to Limbo, but seriously? This asshole has no respect for hotel room maintenance.
I scowl. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
New Book: Returned To Make Them Pay
On her wedding anniversary, Alicia is drugged and stumbles into the wrong room—straight into the arms of the powerful Caden Ward, a man rumored never to touch women. Their night of passion shocks even him, especially when he discovers she’s still a virgin after two years of marriage to Joshua Yates.