Idols and Infamy (The Cursed Tides #2)

Prologue

Torin

The moment the mate bond disappears, the bottom of the world falls out.

My bear pushes forward, charging to take control as the rest of me slumps back in numb disbelief.

I suck in a ragged breath as my metal spines shred my flesh to pieces.

But it doesn’t hurt half as much as the feeling that strikes when I discover our bond is snuffed out.

As malformed as it was, it told me that Reva was safe.

And now it’s gone.

Which must mean she must be too.

Everything is a blur of movement and deafening noise as my bear takes charge. He’s fueled by a mixture of terror and fury, riding on top of Captain Finch’s monstrous tentacle while he demolishes everything he touches for miles around.

Smash.

Crash.

Crush.

Destroy.

Finch smashes buildings and roads to pieces, working like a frenzied wild thing until he’s taken down the entire town. There’s an ominous rumble, and the ground collapses under us. We tumble face-first into the dark.

I SMELL BLOOD. BLOOD and dust and rubble. That’s all that’s left of this place now.

Through the darkness, I can just make out odd shapes and let out a groan. Seems my bear’s abandoned me. Pushing myself up away from the shattered floor tiles, I realise most of the blood I can smell is my own.

My arms are a mess of ragged flesh, so I suppose there’s not much left of me either.

My body isn’t working as I try and fail to stagger to my feet. My legs are jelly and the right one won’t bear my full weight.

I drag it behind me, picking my way out of the destroyed laboratory. The home of my nightmares.

It doesn’t smell any better than it did back when we were held here decades ago. It always was a festering shithole, and I have to say, Finch has improved the place by smashing it to bits. The only thing better would be burning it to the ground.

... I wonder where I can find some matches.

Finch is somewhere, still wreaking destruction just ahead. I can feel the vibrations in the floor and walls as he heads along, intent on leaving nothing here but dust.

But we’re not the only two people here. Kit has to be somewhere along with Jack.

And Reva—

My stomach rebels at the thought, but she has to be somewhere here too.

Limping from one ruined room to the next, I pick my way through the rubble, struggling over it with my gammy leg.

There’s light streaming through from the gaping great hole in the ceiling, and I can just make out a massive bathtub, smashed to bits.

The floor’s sticky and covered in something black that sticks to my bare feet.

In the middle of the biggest puddle, there’s a small, black lump, and I stagger toward it as horror slices through me.

It’s a raven, lying prone on the floor.

Jack.

I’m on my knees beside him, cradling his tiny body in my ungainly hands as I wipe and wipe the goopy black shit away from his beak.

How do you resuscitate a bird? I’m damned sure I should know by now, but Jack’s so good at skating through life unscathed, I’ve never needed to learn.

Pumping his tiny chest, I wish I wasn’t naked as the day I was born.

I don’t even have a spare sock to help wipe off the worst of the gunk he’s caked in.

He’s totally still. No signs of life in his tiny body, and I keep pumping, ignoring that my hands are shaking and look monstrously big compared to his body.

“Come on, man,” I mutter to myself. “You can’t do this to me. Not now. You need to snap out of it.” I lean down to blow air into his beak, hoping it works just as well on birds as it does on people. His chest inflates, and I pull back, spitting out a mouthful of black stuff onto the floor.

Jack’s body quivers in my hand, and I almost choke on the remaining black goop coating my tongue. It’s covering my hands and I wipe and wipe at my legs, trying to get it off.

“Jack?”

Two beady eyes peer up at me before closing again.

“Oh no, you don’t, buddy.” I prod him. Can’t say I’m known for my bedside manner, but the fucker had better not conk out on me now.

His eyes open again, and he twitches his wings, sending more black sludge flying. His body then vibrates for a second before it transforms, arms and legs shooting out until I’ve got a naked Jack in my lap.

He groans, flopping back with his arm over his eyes.

A breath of sheer relief gusts out of me. “Holy shit, you scared me.”

Jack lets out another groan, rolling slightly, so he’s no longer directly in my lap but his head is resting on my thigh.

“Must have been some party,” he mutters. “I don’t remember a thing.” He rolls onto his side and then pushes himself up until he’s sitting cross-legged on the shattered floor. “Were we mud wrestling or something?”

“You were dead,” I tell him.

He closes one eye and shakes his head. “Nah, that can’t be right. My head’s pounding, but I’m pretty sure I’d know if I’d made it to the other side.”

There’s an ominous creaking from somewhere above us right as a booming echo rattles the walls.

“We should get out of here,” I murmur. “Before the whole place comes crashing down.” I struggle to my feet, every part of me complaining after being on my knees for so long.

Jack slides a little, struggling to get traction on the slippery ground as I help him to his feet. “Not mud wrestling, then.” He peers at his tar-covered palms and legs with a pained expression. “Magic wrestling, maybe?”

I take a limping step forward as another booming crash sounds from somewhere above us. “How do you mean?”

“This is magic. Seems the sorceress’s collection of it.”

I scrunch my nose up as I peer down at myself. “Do you think it’s a bad thing we’re caked in it?” It looks like I’ve taken a damn bath in the stuff.

Jack hums to himself, taking a hesitant step forward. “I’ve got a feeling it might be the only reason I'm on this side of the abyss right now.”

“You—”

“I don’t know about you, but I feel pretty good,” he continues, flexing one arm. “Unnaturally good.”

I feel like someone’s taken a rusty axe to my back and knees, so I can’t say I relate.

“Let’s keep going. We need to find the others,” Jack says. “This place is depressing, eh?”

I snort as we slowly make our way from room to room, following the sounds of Finch’s destruction. It no longer looks anything like I remember. Gone are all those pesky things like walls and ceilings, but there’s still the faint scent of misery and fear in the air.

And something else, too. Something with a salty tang and a deeper scent, from the ocean’s depths.

“Cap’s close by,” I rasp.

“What gave it away?” Jack replies, right as a thick black tentacle crashes through the ceiling just ahead of us.

More dust and rubble fill the air, and instead of retreating away from the rampaging kraken, we stagger closer.

It takes a minute for the dust to settle enough to make anything out.

But the moment the air clears, I’m zeroed in on one thing. A mass of hair attached to a strong yet soft body.

Reva.

A buzzing fills my ears, and once again, I drop to my battered knees on the hard floor.

I’m barely aware of the shattered glass that digs into my flesh as I bend over her body, shifting the mass of hair from her bloodless face.

My hands are bloodied and covered in stolen magic, leaving a messy trail over her skin and hair.

There are raised voices around me, but I can’t make out details over the intense buzzing in my ears.

I scoop Reva’s lifeless form into my arms, my spines re-emerging as if to ward off any attempts to take her from me.

She’s warm still, her face peaceful like she’s merely sleeping hard.

Someone touches my shoulder, and a growl erupts from my chest. I twist and snarl, tightening my grip on the precious cargo in my arms.

“Tor, come on, man.” Someone’s touching me again, but I’ve lost all sense of reason by this point. I snarl again.

Eyes darting around wildly, I’m aware of concerned faces that look vaguely familiar. Jack and Kit and the witch, Aster, are standing amid more rubble and destruction. Light is flooding through the massive hole in the ceiling, and even Captain Finch’s kraken seems to have paused its rampage.

Why are they all just standing there?

I can just make out Jack’s concerned expression. But his concern is useless.

“Do something,” I growl.

“You’re going to have to set her down for that, buddy. We can’t help her if you’re holding her like a possessive teddy bear.”

I grunt, but something in his tone pierces the haze in my head.

It’s familiar, and I carefully lower Reva to the ground, sweeping clear any shards of glass.

There are blobs of black goop on her skin where I was touching her, and I use my arms to clean them off as best I can, considering my hands are caked in the stuff.

Something odd happens once she’s laid down. My hands flicker in and out of sight. One moment they’re there and the next they’re gone.

I don’t focus on that though, needing all my attention on the woman lying on the ground as Jack squats beside her with the witch. They’re both running their hands over her and making my spines stick straight out and quiver. I force myself to hold back, to push back the urge to snap their fingers.

Aster murmurs words under his breath, and I’m so focused on his hand over her chest, it barely registers that the voiceless man has spoken at all. His hands shake as he pulls them away, dropping onto his backside with a nod.

“She’s breathing, Tor,” Jack says. “Looks like she’s hit her head, but she’s alive.”

I’m knocked back onto my arse by the weight of my relief. My eyes stray from her perfect face with its scattering freckles surrounded by a halo of wild curls to my dirty and bloodied hands and the blood dripping onto the floor from the wounds on my back.

But even when I scrub away the grime covering my forearm, I still don’t see the mark on my skin.

Reva might be back, but the mate bond hasn’t returned.