“Do demigoddesses berserk?” he frowns. “Should we be concerned?”
Hell if I know, but it’s weird thathe’sthe one askingmequestions. My annoyingly smart quintet member clearly doesn’t trust his own brain right now, if he thinks I have a clue what’s going on.
My head pangs. I grimace through the dragon pushing for dominance before I clear my throat. “Nah, I’m pretty sure she’s just really fucking mad about…something. Can’t remember. When did we move outside, anyway?”
Silas doesn’t notice my question as he squints at a puddle of blood nearby. “What about them?”
“Them, who?”
“The bloated faces in the blood. Are they real?”
“Nope, that’s all in your creepy-ass brain. Come on.”
I help him stand, trying not to wrinkle my sensitive nose at the overpowering smell of gasoline covering him. His breathing is rapid and he starts muttering fae shit I don’t understand under his breath as we make our way through the aftermath of Maven’s massacre.
Crypt finally steps out of Limbo to rejoin us, looking like he’s having the time of his life as he rearranges his macabre bouquet. “Are we off to find wherever they have Frost next?”
I do a quick scan of our surroundings. Ghosts have slowly been vanishing, ravens are picking at the dead bodies, and the screaming has all but stopped. Maven stands perfectly still in the streets running with the blood of our enemies, her scythe in hand as she seems lost in thought—no, it must be memories. Everett mentioned that she’s slowly remembering her time in Paradise.
But Crypt is right. Our elemental is nowhere to be seen, even though I spot a couple of the elite legacies in his parents’ quintet lying motionless in their designer clothes nearby.
“Guess so,” I grunt.
Just as we approach Maven, Crypt collapses onto the cold street. Silas and I both startle when the incubus gasps in pain, face contorting as all of his markings light up brightly several times in a row, like a warning.
I’ve never seen Crypt so obviously affected by his curse, but Silas and I exchange a look. He must realize what I’m also putting together: the fun little fact that the Nightmare Prince’s curse can’t be broken and is obviously worse than ever. Like all stewards of Limbo, his curse is slowly killing him.
Or maybe not so slowly, judging by the agony he’s clearly in.
“Shit,” I mutter.
“Shit,”Silas agrees before flinching away from nothing and swearing in fae. “That not ever as how the leprechaun use is to spirits.Daingeath,singing head devils.”
Yeah, never mind. He can’t even string a sentence together.
I’m on my own here.
Seeing that Maven is still in her trance, I stoop to talk to Crypt. “Where can we getreveriumfor you?”
“Up your scaly ass,” he snaps before grimacing again. “I’m fine.”
“Yeah, you look fine,” I retort.
The pain on his face slowly subsides until he takes a shaky breath, glowering at the stormy sky above as the burning stakes cast a blue glow on this gruesome setting. “Neither of you will breathe a word about this to our girl.”
I scowl, gripping his arm to haul him to his feet. That makes him accidentally drop a finger, which he quickly retrieves like he’s just picking up loose change as I gripe at him.
“Fuck that. Weren’t you the one who said you didn’t want to keep secrets from her?”
“Shove off, Decimus.”
“No. I’m telling Maven?—”
He straightens to level me with a violet glare as ravens squawk and flutter nearby. “Telling our keeper that while she was stuck in Paradise sacrificing gods-know-what to get back to us, I was doing my damned best to snuff out through my curse requires a tact you’ve never possessed, you fucking lizard.”
It takes a second for that to sink in, and…
I kind of get it.
