Page 116 of To Ashes and Dust
I tilted my head at the name, but I couldn’t linger on it as his words caused my stomach to churn. I swallowed. “What exactly do you smell?”
Barrett’s brows furrowed, sorrow sweeping across his face. “Blood.”
“Call the other teams,” Damien said grimly as he glanced at me before stepping toward the porch, pulling his dagger from its sheath.
I swallowed as I stretched my thoughts out to the different teams, beckoning them here immediately. My heart pounded, my pulse drowning everything out as I inched toward the house. Icy horror shot down my spine at what I saw.
Flames came to life in Barrett’s hand, illuminating the traces of blood that formed a broken trail leading into the forest. I followed his lead, lifting my hand, focusing on the warmth in my skin, and my flames lit. We reached the steps, my eyes following the blood until I found what looked like lines etched into the wood porch, and bile rose in my throat at the sight of a lone bloodied fingernail. Oh God... they’d been dragged from their home.
Damien reached the door before I could, looking inside. His hands balled into fists as he shifted back, his eyes closed. Thalia remained in her wolf form as she and Barrett came up behind me. She lowered her muzzle, sniffing briefly before she peered through the doorway.
I carefully stepped around the smears of blood and went to pass Damien, to see for myself what was left in the house, but his hand came up, stopping me.
“You don’t need to see this, Cas.”
My heart lurched, but I steeled my nerves. “I do.”
There was no denying that at some point, I was going to see worse. I’d seen the horrors left in the wake of the darklings through not only Lucia and Elena’s memories, but his as well. Damien’s chest expanded as he drew a deep breath and turned to step into the house.
Barrett passed through the shredded doorway ahead of me, the flames in his hand illuminating the room, and Thalia followed close behind me. No amount of preparation could’ve readied me for what I saw.
God... there was so much blood, too much blood, splattered across walls and wood floors. Thalia crept through the room, head low as she prowled, searching, whether for hidden darklings or survivors, I didn’t know. I couldn’t imagine how there could be any survivors. Furniture was flipped over, shredded, splattered in what appeared to be a mix of red and black blood.
Thalia stopped, perking her head up toward us. Barrett walked over to her to see what she’d found.
“They didn’t go down without a fight, that’s for sure. Took one out,” Barrett said as he crouched low, swiping the oily black liquid from the floor before lifting his gaze to look around.
They’d taken out a darkling? “Were they immortals?”
Damien nodded as he cautiously stepped through the room, stopping to survey every detail of destruction. They’d managed to take out a darkling; could one of them have been a warrior? A recruit? Did we know them?
Barrett and Thalia split off through the house; Barrett took the stairs to the second floor, while Thalia entered the far hallway to search the rest of the lower level. My heart pounded, my pulse roaring in my ears as I braced myself for the possibility of a darkling launching at us from the darkness.
“Do you know who lived here?” I asked, careful of where I stepped.
Guilt flickered across his face. “I don’t.”
“Damien!” Thalia called from the hall, the sound followed by the thunder of Barrett’s steps rushing back down the stairs.
Damien and I hurried toward her. Thalia had shifted back to her normal form, her ear pressed to the door.
“We’re here to help you. Can you open the door?” Thalia said, working the knob, but it didn’t budge.
My heart lurched into my throat. Had someone survived? Barrett, Damien, and I came to a stop in the hallway. At first, I didn’t hear anything, but then it reached my ears; the faintest sound of a painful sob, short and weak.
Barrett stepped up to the door, his voice heavy. “We’re with The Order. We’re here to help. Can you unlock the door?”
A weak voice drifted on the quiet sobs. “Please...”
Damien and Barrett’s eyes shifted to each other, and their expression didn’t settle well in my gut.
“We’re coming in. Stand back,” Thalia called, her ear still pressed to the door, but no response came. Thalia stepped back, grabbing Barrett’s hand to steady herself. She lifted her leg and slammed her foot against the door. It didn’t budge. She kicked again, slamming her weight into it, and it burst free. She pulled her dagger from its sheath, and Damien readied his as Barrett held his hand forward, flame lighting the stairwell. They moved in calculated unison, filing down the stairs, ready for anything that might lunge at them from the darkness. I followed, finding a trail of smeared blood down the stairway.
“Gods,” Barrett let out on a breath as he reached the foot of the stairway, holding the flames high. Damien and Thalia sheathed their daggers as they approached whatever Barrett saw. I cautiously stepped down. Short gasps of pain reached my ears, and I stopped at Barrett’s side.
I swallowed. A woman sat slouched, her back against the wall. Her clothes were torn, covered in so much blood that I couldn’t tell where exactly she was wounded.
Claw marks raked up her exposed arms, her chest heaving unevenly with each painful gasp. Damien approached cautiously and knelt beside her.
