Filed To Story: Cursed Legacies Series Free PDF by Morgan B Lee
Gods, it’s been too long since I got in a good fight with someone wielding a mace.
Douglas makes a face, pulls out a flashlight, blinds me with it for a second as he checks my pupils more thoroughly, and finally grunts as he clicks it off again.
“Okay, you’re officially the freakiest thing I’ve ever encountered. How did you even?—“
“Heal him now, ask me questions never,” I advise, testy thanks to the pain flaring up in my shoulder and ankle.
The bounty hunter shakes his head, muttering something under his breath about me being a “cosmic cockroach” as he kneels beside Everett. He removes the tattered trench coat and blood-soaked shirt underneath to take a look at the deep claw marks.
Seeing such a nasty injury on my elemental makes my throat tighten painfully. I can’t stop remembering how defeated he looked as he lay there on that damn street staring up at the ghoul that was about to end him.
If I’d been a moment too late…
No. I can’t think about that.
Douglas is focused as his hands light up with soft green magic over the injury. His eyes glow slightly, too, reminding me that he has a gift for sensing magical signatures, even his own.
It’s the first time I’ve seen him use healing magic up close, and I catch the microexpression of pain that flashes over his features when he starts healing the worst of Everett’s wound. It’s so subtle that someone raised in a normal world of expression would’ve missed it.
But like everyone from the Nether, I grew up deciphering the tiniest changes in expressions. It’s not hard to figure out why a legacy would have that reaction.
When he sees me analyzing him, he shooes me away. “Give me room to work, you fucking zombie.”
“Feeling the pain of those you heal. What a poetic curse,” I muse, admiring the sadism.
Douglas startles before pinning me with a glowing glare. “Look, however you figured that out, you keep your fucking mouth shut about it.”
I glance down at the impressive progress he’s already made on Everett. He seems extremely skilled at healing, despite his curse.
“I’ll heal you next. Pretty sure that’s why Frost summoned me at all.” He flicks a glance at my bloodstained shoulder. “Vampire bite, right? Should be fast enough.”
“Don’t bother.”
“Look, telum.
I’m beat and I don’t really give a rat’s ass about your little ouchies, but Frost pays better than anyone, so if he says to heal his creepy Undead girlfriend?—“
“It won’t work, so drop it.”
Asher Douglas completely ignores my words as he finishes with Everett and moves on to me. His hands light up with green magic and hover over my shoulder, but as I expected, nothing happens.
He makes another face. “You’re just too fucked up for normal treatments, huh?”
Guilty as charged.
Douglas sighs long and loud, like this is beyond annoying. He glances at the doorway to make sure no one is passing by, checks that Everett is still unconscious, and then fixes me with a serious stare.
“I can still heal you if you swear by the gods to keep your mouth shut about it.”
I arch a brow, curious. “Fine. I swear by myself.”
The caster scoffs, missing my inside joke, before focusing on my shoulder again. This time, his hands light up with a soft white light, but his eyes don’t glow. Tingling power washes over my shoulder as liquid warmth, vanquishing the pain at once. I can sense the magic spreading further, soothing the lingering aches and soreness I’ve felt since waking up. If Douglas feels the pain this time, he doesn’t show it.
I glance at his glowing hands. “This is holy magic.”
The same untraceable power that Pia—no, Galene—used to heal me even when I was a revenant. The same kind of magic I can supposedly wield, once I finally figure out how.
Maybe this is the only kind of magic that can heal me now that I’m a demigoddess and not a revenant.
He moves on to my bitten ankle without having to ask where the pain is. “Yep.”
“You’re a saint?”
“None of your damn business. But no.”
Aside from Silas, this is my first time meeting another hybrid caster. I guess holy magic plays nice with all other types of magic.
Douglas finishes and touches my shoulder. It’s clinical, but my stomach still lurches. I jerk away from the contact, leveling him with my most withering look.
“Whoa. Relax. Message received.” He shifts to a crouch, wisely putting distance between us while squinting at me. “Hey. You could’ve killed me while I was hunting you months ago. Why didn’t you?”
I roll my shoulder, relieved that I no longer have to tune out the pain.
“Your death would have been less fun than fighting you again in the future. Also, I don’t take lives without good reason. You haven’t given me a reason. Yet,” I tack on so that he knows we’re not about to get chummy.
“Huh. Fair enough.”
Not one to linger, Douglas grunts as he picks Everett’s unconscious body off the floor before stepping into the attached professor’s quarters. Aside from the frosted windows and ice everywhere, it’s clear this is where Everett has been living since everything happened.
The towering bounty hunter deposits Everett on the bed, stretches, and turns to leave, but I cut him off.
“If you tell anyone I’m back, you won’t have time to regret it before you’re dead.”
“You’re not much of a people person, are you?”
“Pot, kettle.”
He barks a laugh. “Believe me, I’m not interested in complicating my life by getting mixed up in whatever shitstorm you’re about to create. As long as Frost keeps paying the big bucks, I’m the best ally you’ll ever have, so your secret’s safe with me. Now move, because I’ve got a lumpy pillow and five shitty hours of sleep calling my name.”
I lock the doors once he’s gone, sensing fresh protective magic wards laid over them. Then I sit beside Everett on the bed. Either I spent the last six months getting lazy in Paradise, or resurrecting just takes a lot out of a bitch, because just sitting on a comfy bed like this makes my exhaustion ten times more noticeable.
Everett shifts slightly beside me, immediately taking my full attention. Relief sweeps over me when his glacier-colored eyes blink open in tired confusion. Then he bolts upright, the temperature plummeting even more around us—until his frantic gaze settles on me.
“Oh, fucking gods on high,” he rasps, pulling me into his arms immediately. “It was real.”
His slight mint scent surrounds me as he buries his face in my neck. His breathing picks up into the same erratic pattern he was trapped in when he whisked me back to Everbound. He’s shaking as it grows even colder in here.
I hold him back just as tightly, but when I shiver, he inhales sharply and practically launches off the bed to get away.
“Damn it. You’re too cold. You’re too cold and it’s all my fault and you can’t get close to me again or you might?—“
“Everett,” I say, trying to calm him down.
It’s too late. He’s panicking again, dragging bloodstained hands through his white hair as he stumbles slightly, his chest rising and falling rapidly.
As someone who’s had more than my fair share of trauma-induced breakdowns in the past, I find it’s best to be snapped out of it. I move to his side. Ignoring his protest, I take his hand and pull him into the attached bathroom. I slip out of my boots, set my etherium knife on the counter, and reach for him.
“No. Stop. You can’t keep touching me,” he chokes out even as I start removing his ripped clothing. “I’m too volatile right now. If I make the wrong move, I might freeze you or hurt you or?—“
“Does the plumbing still work?” I check, stepping behind the glass shower wall.
Whatever his answer is, I don’t catch it as I turn on the shower, turning the dial to hot. I sense the slight ripple of a common magic warming charm before the shower head begins spraying me with hot water.
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.