The woods are filled with twisted, dead trees and swirling mist. As twilight shifts fully into nightfall, darkness presses in as the five of us stay close together, running and scanning for signs of anyone.
“Lillian!” Baelfire shouts. “Quinnie?”
The rest of us call for them, too. But finally, I come to a screeching stop when I catch a glimpse of a dead ex-mercenary slumped on the ground nearby.
“Over here,” I tell the others.
When I reach the motionless legacy, I realize others are scattered on the ground, either dead or severely wounded in this thickly wooded area. Two hellhounds are slumped lifelessly to the ground here, too.
With the way some of these people were bitten multiple times and flung around like ragdolls, I’m not surprised when I see Asher’s pet hellhound, Devil, curled up on himself nearby. It looks like he was shot once or twice, but he’s still breathing.
Other motionless ex bounty hunters were clearly shot, too.
“Gideon is nearby,” Maven murmurs beside me, scanning the dark woods beyond the light spell she’s summoned into her hands.
Silas eyes the shadows as he steps over one of the dead bodies, calling his own light spell that glows red. “Either he got into these legacies’ heads, or he got into Asher Douglas’s. If it’s the latter, the mercenary’s distress signal may have been a trap arranged for us by the wraith.”
Godsdamn it. He’s right.
“Nope, no traps. Just me getting ambushed by my friends thanks to that shadowy motherfucker.”
We’re all surprised to see Asher Douglas shirtless, slumped against a tree behind some overgrown shrubbery. He grimaces as he tries to dig a bullet out of one of his shins. It’s not the only bullet in him—he was clearly shot a few times. He’s covered in so much blood, it’s almost difficult to make out all the other tattoos covering his bare torso.
When Maven sees the state he’s in, she glances at Silas. That’s all she needs to do before he crouches to help Asher heal some of the more serious bullet wounds. The mercenary exhales in relief as his body slowly begins to mend under the fae’s blood magic.
“What happened here?” I ask, wary.
What if this is just another wraith trick?
“Saw Lillian and a few others running out of the clearing, so I followed to see what was going on. Didn’t know they were being influenced by a wraith,” Douglas grunts. “My friends went out of their fucking minds as soon as we got into the woods. Dev and I tried to stop them, so now we’re both Swiss cheese. That’s all I know.”
Baelfire squints at him. “And we're supposed to believe the wraith didn't affect you at all?”
Douglas can't answer as he winces in pain when Silas leans him forward to pick out another bullet lodged high in one of his shoulders. Maven tips her head to study the golden phoenix covering most of the burly ex-bounty hunter’s bloodied, bare back.
“So that’s why the wraith didn’t get to you,” she muses. “That’s a blessing, not a tattoo. You were touched by Arati.”
“Way to make the queen of the gods sound perverted.”
“I’m related to her. Of course, she’s perverted.” She straightens, looking around again as ravens croak somewhere in these trees. “Where are Lillian and Quinn?”
The mercenary glances over at his curled-up, bloodied, massive hellhound and whistles. “Dev. Good boy. Let her go.”
The hellhound’s red eyes move to us before he huffs and uncurls his body, moving his dark tail out of the way, too. As soon as Baelfire sees his niece unconscious, huddled against the hellhound’s side, he hurries to her side to check her pulse, ignoring the hellhound’s warning growl.
“Is she hurt?” Crypt demands, looking back at Douglas.
Douglas swears when Silas finally digs the bullet out of his shoulder. “She tripped and hit her head on something when she was chasing after Lillian. Probably just a concussion. She’s safe with Dev and me until we can get her back to Commander Decimus. Dev has orders to guard her with his life.”
That surprises me. That damn hellhound is the only thing this mercenary cares about, besides food, sleep, and money.
“Thank the fucking gods. I owe you,” Baelfire manages as he stands, letting the hellhound guard the little water elemental again.
“Chasing after Lillian?”Maven repeats the mercenary’s words. “Where did Lillian go?”
His face falls. “She didn’t go willingly. The shadows came to life out of fucking nowhere and dragged her away—thatway,” he adds, nodding with his chin before looking surprisingly sympathetic. “Her screams cut off before I could finish handling these guys. I’m sorry.”
Fucking gods.
