Blood Solstice: Part Three in the Tale of Lunarmorte
Page 12
Three: they’re politely asking me to stay out of their way.
She shook her head in shock. “I-I’m confused. I-I thought we had discussed before-”
“This is for the best, Caia,” Vanne spoke, his eyes asking her to trust him. “Marita drew you into this war selfishly. You needed more time, more training. And I know we discussed the possibility of making you Head of the Coven in order to begin peace negotiations with the Midnights, but the Council are not all in agreement on that account. You’re still so young and untried and… well we just don’t all agree that peace negotiations are a credible solution at this point. So for now no one expects anything from you. First, we’re going to deal with Marita, and then if the time is right we’ll call on your help with the Midnights. And if you do hear anything in the trace that concerns you, you’ll let us know.”
They were smiling at her like an adult to a child. If she heard anything? Yeah, she was hearing something alright. The Daylights wanted her out of their business until it was convenient for them, while the Midnights grew steadily more anxious and suspicious of Nikolai’s motives. And Reuben! Hah, he was a peach! This was his doing! He had told Vanne to convince the Council to let her go so she could concentrate all her time on killing innocent people in order to free them all from the trace!
She felt a twitch in her arm and held in a gasp. My goddess. She was so pissed off she was starting to change.
Breathe, Caia, breathe.
She had to get out of here before she lost total control.
“Caia.”
Startled, she whirled around at the familiar voice and immediately felt the change recede. “Vil?” She rushed forward, hearing the scrape of chairs at her back as the Council tensed at the intruder.
Vil was out of breathe, his pale eyes stark as he reached for her. “They told me to come get you.”
Oh gods, oh gods… what had happened now? She trembled, holding onto him. She didn’t want to know. She didn’t want any more bad things to happen.
Are you listening to yourself? You’re in a freaking war, Caia, bad things are going to happen. And people are going to come to you for help, so shake it off and be cool!
“Vil,” she said calmly. “Who told you to come get me?”
He shook his head, blinking back tears. Oh gods, now she was near hyperventilating.
“Vil?” she demanded.
“Ella… Mal… they told me to come get you.”
“Why?”
He shook his head again, his gaze so sympathetic she thought she might die of panic. “Marita… she attacked the house.”
Someone brushed by her and she blinked, watching Vanne grip Vil’s arm. “When? Did she get away? Did anyone get hurt?”
He nodded and his head dropped as he whispered, “A few hours ago. She and the magiks that were with her are gone. Six. Six members of the pack are dead.”
A sob erupted out of her throat like a wail and she felt someone holding onto her. It was Penelope. “W-w-who?” she choked.
He was crying now, wiping his nose. “I’m sorry, Caia. I’m so sorry. Laila felt something and I wouldn’t let her go but she begged me and begged me to take her to the house and when I finally gave in it was too late.”
“Who?! Vil, who?!”
“Mal’s parents – Morgan. Natalia. The twins. And Yvana. Dimitri.”
Oh gods no. No. No, no…
She felt the world fall away from her feet. Dana and Daniel were gone. Alexa and Malek’s parents too. Yvana and Dimitri. No, no, no, no, no…
“How?” she heard Vanne ask.
Vil slumped, holding his hand out to Caia. “They just want you to come back.”
A face appeared in front of her. Doukas. His eyes kind and sad. “Go get Lucien, Caia. And the others. We’ll have a portal ready and waiting to take you straight home.”
She nodded numbly and let someone escort her out. Saffron. She held Caia’s elbow lightly, as if afraid the slightest touch would break her. Caia was thankful for her grip. The corridor kept tilting under her feet.
“I’m so sorry, Caia. This is too much grief for someone so young.”
Caia shook her head numbly. “I’ll be OK,” she whispered hoarsely, her heart aching. “But Lucien… he’ll blame himself.”
And Jaeden. Oh goddess, Jaeden. Her dad.
“A good Alpha always does.”
13 – Broken
It wasn’t real. It didn’t feel real anyway. Well, he could feel Caia’s hand clasped in his tightly. That was real. His heart was thudding beyond crazy. But everyone was so quiet as they waited for the portal to be opened that a sense of unreality washed over him. He heard sniffles and then looked at Jaeden who stood pale and shocked, frigid against anyone’s touch. Ryder stood near her, watching her anxiously, but keeping his distance emotionally and physically. If Lucien looked close enough he could see the hurt her distance caused in his friend’s eyes. Ryder had lost his mother. Jaeden wasn’t the only one who had lost a parent today. Alexa stood off to the side, her face mottled with anger and he knew what she was thinking. She didn’t believe her parents were gone. She thought this was all some nasty trick. But it wasn’t. His pack were dead. And he hadn’t been there to save them. Dimitri. Yvana. Morgan. Natalia. Dana. Daniel. Hell, the twins were just starting out. At that thought he glanced over at Irini and Aidan holding Sunday and Kerianna. Aidan kept glancing at his brother, unshed tears in his eyes for his mom. And Christian and Lucia, Lucia holding tight to Jaela and Christian holding Ivan’s little hand in his. His face was taut with grief but he stood close to his wife and watched his daughter’s face all the time. At the forefront of the group stood Magnus, his eyes catching Lucien’s every once and a while, seeming to match his feeling for feeling. The grief began to ooze into him, replacing numbness with anger and pain so deep it made him tremble.
He felt Caia squeeze his hand.
Someone gave them their condolences. Doukas probably. And told them they would find Marita and make her pay for her crimes. Sure. Doukas was sending a couple of magiks with them for protection. They’d stay as long as they wished. Why? Wasn’t the damage already done? He was barely even aware of Reuben at his back or the fact that Saffron and Rose were with him. They were coming too? Then the portal was open and they were walking through. He was barely even cognizant of the sickening mode of transportation.
The next thing he knew they were on the other side of the bottom of the wooden steps that led up to his front porch. Lucien’s heart tore at the sight before him. Laila and Vil stood off to the side, their faces pinched with sorrow. But it was Mal sitting on the stairs that brought reality crashing in; his legs wide so Finlay could sit on the stair below him, snuggled protectively into his big brother’s leg. His large hand sat on top of Finlay’s head and the two boys looked up at the same time, their faces streaked with tears, their eyes puffy and red from crying. Mal’s eyes met Lucien’s and he felt that look all the way to the bottom of his soul.
“They’re gone,” Mal choked out, fresh tears scoring his cheeks. “They’re gone.”
“No!” Alexa screamed and rushed up the stairs to her brothers. They caught a hold of her jacket, tried to pull her back from the door, but she broke free and into the house. A heartbreaking howl hit them like a blast of sleet rain and Mal and Finlay were on their feet, rushing inside to their sister. That shook him.
He made a choked sound at the back of his throat and pushed past them all. He heard heavy footsteps behind him and knew Magnus was at his back. The smell of blood hit his nose on the first step and was overwhelming once they were inside the house. Morgan’s body was the first they came across, his face and lips blue. Asphyxiation. There were cuts, large bloody gashes and burns, on his skin that hadn’t healed because of his death. He’d been tortured before they killed him. In the living room he found Alexa wrapped in both her brother’s arms and they sobbed loudly into one another’s shoulders. Lucien placed a comforting hand on Mal’s arm, more sorry than he could ever tell t
hem. Their mother lay at their feet. She had been suffocated with air magik by the looks of it, but no signs of torture, which meant someone had gotten to the attackers before they could. Since Mal and Finlay were OK, Lucien could only assume the boys had heard the commotion and had changed into lykan and fought off Marita and the magiks. Finding Dana and Daniel in the kitchen furthered that belief. They too showed no signs of torture. Daniel’s body lay curled over his sister protectively and Lucien felt the prick of tears as he imagined the young wolf trying to comfort his sister whilst they could do nothing against death. His gaze stuck on their lifeless eyes. They were barely seventeen. His hands gripped the back of a kitchen chair and the wood crumbled under them. The sharp little irritating pain of splinters set fire to his hands. Good. He deserved that and more. How could he have left his pack here, unprotected? How could he have left them to die? His family.
Dimitri, he flinched, feeling as if he had been punched in the gut. The Elder had joined forces with Magnus to be a father to him since the death of his own. And now he was gone. Where was he?
“Finn and I were outside.”
Lucien whirled at the dead voice and found Mal staring at him numbly, his face red and splotched. “You were running?”
Mal nodded. “I took him out. He was worried about Lex, so I took him out for a run to take his mind off it. We heard shouts and stuff crashing, so we rushed back.” He shrugged, obviously trying not to cry, but no one would have mocked him for doing so. Lucien wanted to tell him to let it out but he found he couldn’t talk. “It was too late. D-Dana and Dan were already dying.” He gestured weakly. “I chased off the magik’s just as they started burning them. I chased them into the living room and scared… Marita… she looked a lot like Marion so I guess it was her right? Well, she was killing-” he choked on a sob. “Killing mom. I think she was going to make it slow but she had to finish it quick cos’ of me. She killed her. I could have stopped her-”
“No.” Lucien strode towards him, gripping his shoulder and giving him a shake. “No. You couldn’t have.” Marita had obviously filled his mom’s lungs with smoke and ash in order to suffocate her.
Mal shook his head. “Dad was already gone. They tore him apart.”
Lucien felt him shudder and then Mal turned slightly, bending over to vomit all over the kitchen floor. “I-I’m s-s-sorry,” he choked out but Lucien shushed him, patting him gently on the back until he was done.
After a few minutes of unbearable silence, Lucien asked hoarsely, “Where are Dimitri and Yvana?”
The young wolf’s head dropped as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Out front, to the side. You must have past them when you came into the house. They were outside when Marita arrived. They’re… they’re pretty messed up.”
Lucien ushered him out of the kitchen and guided him back outside, taking care to shield him from the view of his father’s body. He vaguely took in Lucia off to the side with Irini and Cera, who was holding her three kids as close as possible. With them stood Reuben, Saffron and Rose, and altogether they hid the kids from the gruesome sight to Lucien’s right. He walked slowly towards the pack. Christian stood with arms around Julia as she sobbed uncontrollably into his shoulder. Jaeden knelt on the ground, the knee of her jeans soaking in the blood of her father. Dimitri lay in front of her, his body mutilated, his face and lips blue. Just behind them was Yvana, her prone body in much the same condition as Dimitri’s. Aidan and Ryder knelt beside her, quiet tears rolling down their cheeks. And his own mother (and Lucien thanked the gods she was alright) stood with her arm around Caia, the two of them standing between their dead pack members and their grieving families. Magnus hovered over Dimitri, his friend, his brother, his own silent tears rolling down his ruddy cheeks.
When Caia was taken from Lucien he had felt rage unlike anything he had ever known. At the massacre left in his home, the massacre of his people, his pack – the lykans he was supposed to protect – by that evil bitch… brought the rage back in full force.
14 – Emotional Blackmail and… Just Plain Ol’ Blackmail
There was no noise. It was as if the world had shushed… or had she gone deaf? There were no smells. She could see the rain as it pelted the ground and plastered their clothes to their bodies; she could see the mud as it squelched under foot; she could see the leaves rustle against one another as the wind rushed through Lucien’s land in furious sympathy for their loss. But she couldn’t smell the earth or hear the tears. She felt numb. Paralysed. Sure that one gentle nudge would knock her over. It wasn’t possible to feel this much pain, this much loss. And the anger, the rage, simmered beneath the surface like oil ready for the first strike of the match.
Six of the pack were gone. For the others who had survived it had been a matter of chance really. Julia had persuaded Imogen and Isaac to come back with her to her house in order to get some much needed sleep. Ella was out shopping and checking Lucien’s store was OK. Cera had gone with her. As for Draven and Kade they had taken the twins home as well, leaving Lucien’s under the protection of Dimitri, Yvana, Mal, Finlay and their parents. Dana and Daniel would never have been there if they hadn’t snuck out and back over to Lucien’s house, excited and desperate to welcome everyone back from the Centre.
It should never have happened. She should have known Marita would target the pack. And now they were cremating innocent lykans in the woods at the back of the house. One of the magiks that had been sent by Alfred to protect them – Jason – was taking care of the mess their deaths had made in the human world. Memories were being tampered with, school files stolen and meddled with, Lucien’s store, Yvana’s café, all of their jobs were being erased as if they had never been there. The house was emptied, all evidence of their existence wiped. Jason had tampered with the memory of a realtor. For now the house was part of some guy’s inheritance. ‘He lived in Cincinnati and wanted the house put up for sale.’ The money from the sale would make its way back into the Pack’s accounts but their lives here were over.
And Caia had had to sell her soul to the devil himself in order to keep them safe.
24 hours earlier
“Ryder’s looking for you,” Caia said softly as she made her way into her old bedroom. Jae lay curled up on her old comforter, a teddy-bear Ella had given her when she’d first arrived squished tightly in her friend’s hands. Her face was stretched taut with grief, her usually lively blue eyes deadened as they turned upon Caia.
“I don’t want to speak to him.”
Caia nodded. It had only been 36 hours since they’d arrived back to the house to find their whole world ripped apart. Everyone was in unimaginable pain. Caia felt like she was sleep-walking. The sense of unreality was tormenting. And the guilt…
Everyone was angry, everyone felt guilty. However, Lucien was keeping them altogether. He didn’t want vengeance; he wanted them all to take the time to grieve, to accept their new lives. For the most part the pack seemed to have heard. It was a quiet and stoic grieving. But not for Jaeden and Alexa, who weren’t handling it at all well. There was more rage than sadness there, and Caia was hovering on a tightrope that threatened to throw her in with them. It had never occurred to her before she would be the one battling the overwhelming need to punish; she’d always thought, with his volatile temper, she would be the one soothing Lucien. But after destroying as many items in the house he could get his hands on, Lucien had cooled and put his efforts into helping the pack rather than taking vengeance; he was the one calming her. And he was almost succeeding. It was just that every time she took one look at Jaeden or Alexa’s face and thought about Dimitri’s death, she wanted revenge. Torturous and painful revenge.
She took in a deep breath, trying to deal with her emotions. “Maybe you should talk to him. He lost his mom too. You should be comforting each other.”
“I don’t want his comfort!” she spat causing Caia to flinch at the venom. “All he and Lucien have been spouting for the last 24 hours is how we have to accept this
and come to terms with their deaths. Well I don’t want to! I want to find Marita and I want to rip her apart because that’s what she’s done to me, OK!”
“I’m with her on this.” Alexa suddenly appeared in the doorway. There was dark circles under her eyes, her mouth pinched, giving her the appearance of being older than her eighteen years. She brushed past Caia and sat down on the bed beside Jaeden. To Caia’s surprise she reached for Jaeden’s hand and they gripped onto one another. They looked up at her with twin expressions of fury. And she didn’t know what to say, what to do to make it better.
“W-what can I do?” she asked softly.
“I have an idea.”
The three of them snapped around to find Reuben standing in the doorway. For once there was no mocking in his eyes or lazy languor in his body language. He was dead serious. His eyes dark with sympathy.
“What idea?” Alexa asked urgently.
He slowly shut the door and wandered into the room to take a seat at Caia’s old computer desk. “Lucien and Ryder are out making preparations for the funerals at the moment.” Stalactites might as well have formed on the ceiling for how cold the room grew with that one sentence. Reuben ignored it. “I thought I would speak with you privately.”
“What’s the idea?” Alexa insisted.
The vampyre glanced up at Caia. “Caia already knows my plan.”
“What plan?”
Jaeden shifted. “You mean the trace thing? How is that helping destroy Marita?”
“Because if Caia gets rid of the trace then Marita no longer has that power over the Daylights. She can no longer gather people to her easily and she can no longer hunt down the people she wants destroyed. Once the trace is gone, we can hunt her.”
A feeling of helplessness swept over her as she watched Jaeden’s eyes glow with the news. Even Alexa, who was confused as to the actual technicalities of the discussion, was looking surprisingly animated.