Filed To Story: Cursed Legacies Series Free PDF by Morgan B Lee
Much of yesterday was spent watching Maven go over attack strategies with the other Reformist leaders. Many troops not fully utilized elsewhere on the front lines have mobilized outside of Halfton as we prepare for the attack. Aside from the mass attack strategy, all I’ve gathered of Maven’s plan so far is that she intends to use ghosts to boost our numbers.
I intend to do the same with Undead.
After all, as a necromancer, why shouldn’t I take advantage of the dark arts for our benefit? For the last three days, I scouted out countless places of death around Everbound as I’ve prepared to raise a large number of reanimated beings. Others may object, but I know my blood blossom will understand the practicality of such measures, once I tell her.
Better to tell her now, since the attack is planned to take place in two days.
“About this plan—” I begin.
“He’s right, we absolutely can’t rely on demons,” Everett huffs, getting out of bed to search for those foolish silk pajamas on the floor.
I frown. “That’s not what I was?—“
“Hold up, what exactly are those demonic fuckers supplying?” Baelfire asks Maven, confused.
My blood blossom gets out of bed, too. I forget whatever I was about to say as she stretches slightly, showing off her beautifully strong, nude body. Crypt hums in approval beside me, and Baelfire sits up to see her better. Everett looks like he’s forgotten that he was searching for clothes as he stares at her.
“Information and changelings,” she answers.
When Maven brushes her dark hair out of her face, my attention drifts to her mouthwatering neck as I?—
Wait.
“Changelings?” I repeat, certain I heard her incorrectly.
Maven nods and tells us the rest of her plan in brief, simplified terms. When she’s finished, we all gawk at her, and not just because every move she makes is so enchanting as she begins searching through the discarded clothing that we practically ripped off of her last night.
It’s a damn good plan.
“So that’s why you opted to spare the changeling the cultists captured,” I realize.
“Will that even work on changelings?” Baelfire asks, fascinated.
“We’ll find out today,” she says, searching in her discarded hoodie. “If not, I’ve thought of several ways to bribe them, if they choose to cooperate instead. That wouldn’t be a surprise, since like most creatures in the Nether, they hate Amadeus so much that?—“
She cuts off as she grips Cuttrina within her hoodie. As soon as Everett realizes she’s in another memory trance, he scoops her up and sits on the edge of the bed to hold her. As we wait for her to come to, Crypt chuckles despite his glowing markings.
“An army of Mavens to confuse the Entity’s visions of the battle. What a clever goddess we have.”
“She’s flawlessly vicious,” I agree.
“As long as you don’t fuck up making the heart and getting it into Amadeus’s chest, I think this might actually work,” Baelfire grins.
Everett studies Maven’s face as she gazes out at nothing, recalling something from Paradise. “Her plan is great, except it separates some of us from her during the beginning of the battle.”
“Amadeus would expect her to remain close to her quintet members,” I point out. “She’s right to pair us up with changelings until enough chaos has been sewn to further throw off his tactics.”
“And only one of us is actually with her, because only one of us can fuck around in Limbo undetected,” Baelfire grumbles, glaring at Crypt. “Lucky fucking bastard.”
The incubus surprises us all by slumping to the bed and grimacing in pain as his markings light up more. “How lucky can a dying man be?”
We’re all quiet at that.
Finally, Maven blinks and looks around, disoriented to find herself in Everett’s arms.
“Anything about that blood oath you made?” Everett asks, voice tight with tension.
“No. That was just a memory of the time I showed up naked to ruin one of Arati’s fancy formal dinners so she would be pissed off enough to kick me out of Paradise,” she sighs, as frustrated as the rest of us about her unknown oath.
“You what?” Baelfire coughs.
“It’s fine. She got over it eventually,” our keeper mutters, getting out of Everett’s arms to make her way toward the bathroom. She smirks at us over one bare shoulder. “Get dressed. I don’t want Eisha drooling over what’s mine any more than she has in the past.”
Everett scowls at our keeper’s use of the demon’s name before the bathroom door closes behind her. The rest of us get ready quickly. Fifteen minutes later, our quintet makes its way through Everbound Castle toward the eastern exit. No matter how useful they are, there’s no way in hell we’re about to give the demons access inside the protective wards.
I almost walk right through the blue-haired ghost when she pops up from the ground. Stepping around the dead tribute, I notice even more ghosts have accumulated to haunt this castle as they await whatever my blood blossom has in mind for them.
Remember, Maven reminds us through the bond as we approach the arched doorway.
We want to try diplomacy with the changelings before resorting to anything extreme. They’re unfeeling creatures that will swap loyalties in an instant if we offer something they really want. Mortal money, safety, shit like that.
We nod, and Baelfire pushes open the big eastern door, leaving us all blinking at…a pile of dead changelings.
“There she is!” Eisha booms, gesturing happily at the pile of dead creatures as the demons around her applaud. “We come bearing gifts!”
“So much for diplomacy,” Everett scoffs quietly, stepping slightly in front of Maven as if to keep her out of these infernal beings’ sight.
As always, being in the presence of demons is unpleasant. There are almost a dozen here with Eisha and that simpering demon boyfriend of hers—the one Crypt is glowering at like he still wants to rip the demon’s horns off. The other demons have apparently foregone the effort to blend in with humans since the Upheaval, and now their horns, tails, pointed teeth, and inky black eyes are on full display as they stare at Maven with fascination.
The one good thing about their presence is that it has driven back all of the other campers on this side of Everbound Castle. Only a few of them linger nearby, watching this interaction.
One of the male demons standing near Eisha lifts his chin. His nostrils flare before his eyes widen. “Oh, fuck me.
Who knew a bloody demigoddess would smell so damned delicious? Wanna lick her all over and take a bite right outta that pretty, holy hide,” he groans.
Maven’s composure remains intact, but anger and disgust send magic surging to my blackened fingertips.
Before I can punish the demon for speaking that way about my keeper, Everett lifts his hand and impales the demon on a massive spike of ice jutting from the ground. The other demons shriek and leap away, looking far less worried about their writhing, dying comrade than they are about their own safety.
“Mind your forked tongues when speaking to or about my keeper, or you’ll get worse,” he warns, glaring at the infernal gathering.
Eisha’s boyfriend—Melchom, I believe—takes a good look at the elemental and bursts into laughter. “Well, peg me with a pitchfork and call me a kebab! Looks like all those rumors about the scarred pretty boy are true. I heard you froze a bunch of deserters from the waist down on the front lines so your troops could hear what cowards sound like when they’re getting devoured by shadow fiends. I bet the screaming was fucking fantastic—almost makes me wish I was there to see those cowardly fuckers humiliated before their upper halves were gobbled up.
Maven glances curiously at Everett, as do I and the rest of my quintet, because that punishment is surprisingly impressive. He continues to glower at the demons but responds to our stares through the bond.
They weren’t just deserters. They were legacies who sat back and watched dozens of humans in their troop get slaughtered in a surge at the front lines. When I asked how they all survived when the humans didn’t, they made jokes about how weak humans are in comparison to ‘our kind.’ I had enough shit to handle without adding politically prejudiced assholes to the mix, so I made an example out of them.
Good,
Maven nods.
Eisha scoffs and looks at Melchom, unaware of my quintet’s telepathic communication. “I kinda wish you were there, too—you could’ve joined the wimps and only the half of you I like would be preserved in ice.”
“Loose-ass bitch,,” the demon scowls at her.
“Cuntfaced, microdicked manwhore,” she shoots back before shoving him out of the way.
All this flirting is making me sick,
Maven huffs through the bond.
Bael frowns.
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.