Gods. I was dicked down just a few hours ago. How am I this horny already?
Their gazes darken on me as they collectively seem to sense the sinful direction my thoughts have taken. One side of Silas's mouth lifts as his crimson gaze flicks over me.
“Do you have any idea how addictive your desire is, Maven?”
Before I can decide what I'll do with them to quench this building need, a shadow moves outside one of the diner's front windows. I snap to attention as I recognize a face just before it slips around a corner.
"We need to go." I nudge Everett to slide out of the booth. "Now."
Baelfire tenses, looking out the same window as we all get up. "What is it?"
"You'll see. Follow what I say exactly."
A moment later, we leave the diner. Baelfire and Silas turn left while Everett and I head right. We pass a tall man dressed in a red suit and fake bushy white beard, carrying a pot and jingling a bell. I don't get this holiday character at all, but Everett tosses a thick wad of cash into the pot without saying a word before we turn down the alley I told him to.
Crypt is with us, unseen in Limbo. The moment we round the corner of the diner into a small back parking lot area that appears to be nothing but a few overfilled dumpsters and broken bottles on asphalt, I can feel it—the sharp hum of a trapping spell.
The world flips as Everett and I are suspended upside down in the magic snare. Cold explodes from beside me as he tries to use his powers to get free, but when I barely tap into the dark, malicious power inside my veins, the spell shatters, and we fall to the asphalt.
A shadow leaps toward me. I instinctively roll out of the way—but not before a sharp pain explodes in my left shoulder, rendering my left arm useless as I take a defensive stance. Silas and Baelfire round the opposite corner into the parking lot, racing toward us. Crypt drops into the mortal realm, tackling the figure from behind.
There's a startled grunt, and another surge of magic explodes from the mage. Silas deflects the spell easily with a blinding burst of red blood magic, and finally, Crypt and Baelfire have the caster pinned.
Crypt rips the hood away from the man's face, and Baelfire snarls.
"Gibbons?"
8
MAVEN
Everbound'sinterim headmaster squirms under their tight hold, whimpering at the sight of Crypt's glowing markings and the dragon shifter baring his teeth. I approach with every intention of tuning out my bleeding arm—but when Everett sees it, he scowls and pulls back the sleeve of my now-ripped hoodie to reveal what the mage stabbed me with.
A chorus of vicious swears goes up from all four of them when they see the nevermelt embedded in my shoulder. It's the same shard I saw in Everett's office. He must have stolen from there.
The mage was aiming for my heart. Safe to say he knows what I am.
I've never been stabbed with nevermelt before, but my entire left arm is now so cold it burns, the nerves searing from freezing pain. I compartmentalize the sensation and crouch beside the deposed mage, staring him down. The terror and revulsion practically waft off of him in waves, which makes it hard not to smile.
I've never liked this mage. There's something about him I can’t put my finger on.
The bulging vein in Gibbons' forehead looks like it's about to pop. "Y—you're a… you're the?—"
"Revenant. Scourge. Unnatural, semi-undead bitch. Call me whatever you want now, because you won't be speaking much longer."
The mage sneers. "You may have corrupted the most promising legacies of this generation, but you will never unleash the Entity on this world, you filthy, cursedabomination!"
This time, I can't help the grin that pops up on my face at the thought of "corrupting" my quintet.
Sounds fun.
Crypt looks at the nevermelt stuck in my arm again and promptly snaps one of the mage's upper arms. Gibbons' startled scream is satisfying, but then I watch in twisted fascination as Crypt's fingertips dig into the flesh around one of the mage's eyes.
"What the hell are you doing, you sick fuck?" Everett scowls.
"This bloke's aura is nauseating, and he’s watched us with these beady little eyes for far too long.”
"Don't like how he keeps glaring at my mate," Baelfire agrees.
