Filed To Story: Cursed Legacies Series Free PDF by Morgan B Lee
“There are fucking bullets in your stomach,” he seethes.
I glance down and pick one out, flicking the bloodied metal away. My head spins since I’ve lost more blood than I anticipated, but I ignore it like I was trained to, just like I ignore the lingering waves of pain in my stomach and chest.
“They didn’t hit anything too important. More importantly, that was far too small a group of bounty hunters for the threat we pose. Others will probably arrive soon.”
I need you to transport us away from here, I tell Silas telepathically.
Are you running low on life forces to wield, my vicious revenant? he asks, teasing.
Yes, actually. I don’t want to risk dipping into Somnus’s life force before we find etherium.
In that case, I can certainly
?
—
He goes suddenly silent.
I tense.
Silas?
His voice is strained, even telepathically.
Gods above, I will never grow accustomed to seeing souls reaped. I have yet to see the reaper goddess’s face, but I dread the day I finally do.
Meanwhile, Crypt’s tempestuous glare drops to Douglas, who is still passed out in the snow. “Shall we take this one’s head as a trophy before we go, love? It’s the least he can repay for harming you.”
I shake my head as Everett carefully pries another bullet from my side. He’s so upset by my injuries that he’s trembling, but to his credit, there is no frost climbing up his arms. In fact, the only frost here is blooming wherever he gently brushes his fingers, skillfully sealing my wounds with a numbing cold that somehow soothes the pain.
I’ve never seen his ability so accurate.
Interesting.
“Douglas can live for now,” I tell Crypt. “He’s a fun opponent. Besides, he now thinks I’m not a revenant, which he’ll relay to the Legacy Council. The more confused they are, the better for us.”
A buzzing from one of my pockets startles me, and I fumble with the phone before finally answering the damn thing. Before I can say anything, a familiar voice crackles over the line.
“
Forty-eight motherfucking calls? Are you shitting me? All right, stalker caller. You had better be a really hot bitch with huge tits and a raging demon kink because if I find out you’re just some fucking spammer trying to tell me about my car’s extended warranty, I’m going to?—“
“Let me guess. Rip my head off?” I say coldly.
Melchom goes dead silent. Meanwhile, Everett pulls my phone away from my ear to tap a button. The next time the demon talks, it’s much louder, so they can both hear the slight tremble in Melchom’s voice.
“Oh! I—it’s you. I, um…thought you said you wouldn’t need me again, telum.”
He chuckles nervously. “Look, babe, about that whole changeling thing—I swear on my tail that I had no idea those Remitters were going to send it to Everbound to fuck with your plans. I never would’ve sold it a single speck of nightshade root powder if I knew?—“
“You’re a shitty liar, Melchom.”
Everett grumbles unhappily about hearing the demon’s taboo name. Crypt leans forward to speak more clearly into the phone.
“Melchom, is it?”
The demon hisses. “Who the fuck is that? That’s more than enough infernal name-dropping?—“
“Oh, hardly.” Crypt’s tone turns pitch black, his markings lighting up ominously. “Our pretty scourge seems to think you intentionally misled her, which resulted in a rather agonizing memory for me. So you had better pray to hell or hedonism or whatever it is that demons believe in that you have useful information to offer her. If not, I will hunt you down, drive you mad, rip your horns out, and shove them up your flaccid little prick.”
I smirk at the menace lacing my match’s tone—and because I can’t help finding Everett’s disturbed expression funny.
Melchom audibly gulps. “Flaming shitballs. Is it…it’s you! Never thought I’d talk to the Nightmare Prince. You’re running with the telum now, huh? Listen, I’m a huge fan, but you gotta be more specific about what you want from me.”
“There’s an elusive black market dealer with a stash of etherium,” I say smoothly. “Tell me everything you know about him.”
Melchom sounds like he’s smoking. “Ah, now what’s this? The telum wants god rocks? Odd. But you know, if my slut of a girlfriend heard this, she’d be tickled pink. See, she bought into all these outlandish rumors that were circling the demon community years ago?—“
He’s wasting time. When I spot a haunted-looking Silas and exhausted Baelfire walking towards us through the trees, side-stepping corpses and massive shards of ice that must be from Everett, I decide to speed things along.
“
Invoco te Melchom, filium tenebrarum, filium gehennae,” I recite in the Nether tongue.
It’s the very beginning of a demonic ritual I witnessed necromancers perform countless times when I was young. Melchom must not want a piece of my dark soul in exchange for being shackled to me for all eternity because he makes a horrified, inhuman squawking sound.
“No! Stop! Stop it right now. The dealer you want goes by The Scarab, and that’s all I fucking know! Okay? That’s it!”
Silas and Baelfire finally stop beside us, and I’m relieved to see Bael has healed. But as if the gods want to see how much they can throw at me at once, distant howls sound.
More hellhounds. Fucking great.
“Well?” Melchom demands, still pissy about my nearly invoking his essence. “I told you: The Scarab. All I know is his fucking name, I swear. And if you try to scare the living hells out of me again?—“
“Don’t threaten my mate,” Bael snaps.
Melchom pauses. “Whoa, there.
Mate? Hang on a motherfucking second.
Telum, don’t tell me you…got matches?” He bursts into riotous laughter.
“Is that why the Nightmare Prince is with you, too? Hells and bells! Hate ’em or love ’em, the gods do have one wild fucking sense of humor, huh? Hey, you know, you’re a scary little fuck, but you’re kinda hot, so if you’re looking to add to your bouquet of dicks, mine’s not half bad?—“
I hang up before the four extremely pissed-off matches surrounding me can snap my burner phone in half. More bounty hunters are on their way, and all I got out of Melchom was a stupid name, so it’s time we move on.
Except Silas’s ruby irises trap mine. “Did that demon say your dealer is called The Scarab?”
I nod.
I can practically see thoughts clicking into place in his head as he mutters to himself. “The symbol of the life cycle. Rebirth. Clever, and if it’s true, I always suspected…”
“If you know something, spit it out,” Everett snaps, irritable from the call with the demon.
Howling erupts alarmingly close to us this time, but all my ice elemental has to do is look in that direction, and a sharp blast of ice sweeps past us. A loud crack echoes through the woods before the howls become startled barks. Bounty hunters shout in alarm, and then it all cuts off at once, leaving the woods eerily silent again.
We all look at Everett.
“They were crossing over a frozen lake I noticed yesterday. Makes freezing shit easy,” he mutters.
Impressive.
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.