“What happened?”
“I was not here. I did not see it happen. I heard the screams from the guest villa’s terrace and came running to find the wedding party under attack by these blood-covered mongrels. Half of them took their own lives before I had a chance to drive my sword through their guts.”
“We saw the same down in the city.” I steal a glance at Soren, who stands a few paces away. He is still. Eerily still. Like the withdrawn sea before a devastating tidal wave. Tamping down my simmering worry, I force my eyes back to Penn. “I still don’t understand where they all came from…”
“The portal.”
We all turn at the quiet boom of Vaughn’s voice. As he exits the dark garden I gape, seeing the blood sprayed across his face.
“Are you—”
“Not mine,” he says grimly, square chin jerking. “Smashed a few heads together before they could do more damage.” His eyes shift to my side, where Soren is standing. He wastes no time inexplaining. “They came through the bathhouse. Tore out of it, a great flood of them. At least twenty, by my count. We weren’t prepared.” His voice is blunt. “How could we be? It’s not possible. It wasn’t before, anyway…”
Something very deadly is emanating from Soren. Something so vicious, so violent, it makes my soul quiver.
Still, he says nothing.
“These men are mortal,” I interject, shaking my head as confusion crashes through me. “I thought portals only worked for high fae?”
“The blood,” Soren grits out, teeth clenched.
I blink. “What?”
“They’re covered in it, head to toe. They must’ve bathed in it just before they stepped through. A coating thick enough to mask them.”
“All twenty of them?” That must’ve taken a huge amount of blood. Barrels and barrels of it. “Wherever did they get so much?”
His jaw is set like stone. “Whoever they drained must’ve been of a very strong bloodline. Strong enough to deceive a portal. Strong enough to carry them through from Dymmeria.”
“Dymmeria?”Penn roars. Sparks fly from his fingertips, skittering across the dance floor. “Do you mean to tell me this is Efnysien’s doing?”
Vaughn does not look surprised, only grimmer and grimmer as Soren nods. “This is my stepbrother’s handiwork, of that I have no doubt. The men who set the floating market ablaze took their own lives, but they shouted something first.”
“For Shadowfall,” I whisper.
“A rallying cry for the uprising of Efnysien’s dark army.” Soren’s hands curl into fists at his sides, as though he does nottrust himself to move without striking something. “A second Cull. One aimed directly at the Northlands, with the intent of eradicating fae kind once and for all.”
Penn is breathing hard.
“Just what we need. More godsforsaken blood purists.” Vaughn spits on the corpse lying a few paces away from us. “Wish there were more to kill…”
“Where is Arwen?” Soren’s eyes cut like blue blades around the carnage, seeking out his sister. “It is unlike her not to be here barking orders.”
Vaughn shrugs his massive shoulders. “I don’t know. I lost sight of her in the havoc. I’m sure she’s around somewhere.”
Soren looks to Penn, who shrugs, then swings his gaze around until it lands on the siren sisters. “Melité! Where is Arwen?”
“Can you not see Tethys is injured?” she sneers, affronted. “Why, of all your sisters, is Arwen the only one who merits your attention?”
He ignores her. A crease of displeasure appears between his brows as he returns his attention to Vaughn. “She’s likely at the stables—”
“She’s gone.”
I whip around at the fractured rasp from behind me. My heart quails at the expression on Alaric’s handsome face. He looks totally broken. A shattered shell of the man who, only hours ago, punched the sky in victory as he wed his love before the whole city.
“What do you mean, she’s gone?” Soren takes two strides toward him, hand flying out to fist in his gold-embossed tunic. He shakes him lightly.“Where the fuck is she?”
Alaric does not even seem to notice he is being shaken. His eyes are farseeing, his face a blank. “They took her. Thoseblood-soaked men. Hauled her away, through the portal.” He holds up his hands; they are streaked with gore, the knuckles bruised and swollen. “I fought them.Wefought them. But there were so many, and they…” His head shakes, as though he cannot quite believe what he is saying. As though he would do anything to wake from this nightmare he is living. “It was clear from the first moment that she was who they were after. The rest of this—all this butchery—is gratuitous. He wantedher.He has always wanted her.” The apple of his throat bobs roughly. “And now he has her.He has my wife.”