Ascended Page 12

  OK … so, one: Vanne and Saffron have lied to the Council about Reuben’s age.

  Two: They think he can train me in Marion’s stead like it’s nothing but an inconvenience she’s not here to do it herself!

  Three: They’re politely asking me to stay out of their way.

  Caia shook her head in shock. “I-I’m confused. I thought we had discussed before—”

  “This is for the best, Caia,” Vanne spoke, his eyes asking her to trust him. “Marita selfishly drew you into this war. You needed more time, more training. And I know we discussed the possibility of making you Head of the Coven to begin peace negotiations with the Midnights, but the Council is not in agreement on that account. You’re still so young and untried and … well, we 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 smiled at her like an adult would to a child. If she heard anything? Yeah, she was hearing something, all right. 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’d 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 there before she lost total control.

  “Caia.”

  Startled, she whirled 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 breath, 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 on to 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 on to 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 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?” Vanne asked.

  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. “I’ll be fine,” 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. He could feel Caia’s hand clasped tightly in his. That was real. His heart thudded. 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.

  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’d 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 members 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. At the forefront of the group stood Magnus, his eyes catching Lucien’s every once in a while, seeming to match his, feeling for feeling. The grief oozed 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 Lucien 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 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 who 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 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 hold of her jacket, tried to pull her back from the door, but she broke free and ran into the house. A heartbreaking howl hit them like a blast of sleet, and Mal and Finlay were on their feet, rushing inside to their sister.

  Shaken, Lucien 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 bee
n tortured before they killed him.

  In the living room, he found Alexa wrapped in her brothers’ 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 them. Their mother lay at their feet. She’d 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 torture her.

  Since Mal and Finlay were okay, Lucien could only assume the boys had heard the commotion and had changed into lykans 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 while they could do nothing against death. His gaze stuck on their lifeless eyes. They were barely seventeen.

  He gripped the back of a kitchen chair and the wood crumbled. The sharp, 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’d 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?

  “Fin 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 magiks 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? 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 ’cause of me. She killed her. I could have stopped her—”

  “No.” Lucien strode toward 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 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’ve passed them when you came in. 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 toward the pack. Christian had his arms around Julia as she sobbed uncontrollably into his shoulder. Jaeden knelt on the ground, the knee of her jeans soaking up 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 (Lucien thanked the gods she was all right) stood with her arm around Caia, the two of them between their dead pack members and their grieving families. Magnus hovered over Dimitri, his friend, his brother, his own silent tears coursing down his ruddy cheeks.

  When Caia was taken from Lucien, he’d 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 … it brought the rage back 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 underfoot; 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. Paralyzed. 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. Julia had persuaded Imogen and Isaac to come back to her house to get some much-needed sleep. Ella was out shopping and checking on Lucien’s store; Cera had gone with her. As for Draven and Kade, they’d taken the twins home as well, leaving Lucien’s house 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, excited and desperate to welcome everyone back from the Center.

  It should never have happened. She should’ve known Marita would target the pack. And now they were cremating innocent lykans in the woods behind 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 and school files were being tampered with, Lucien’s store, Yvana’s café, all of their jobs were being erased as if they’d never been there. The house was emptied, all evidence of their existence wiped. Jason 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 sold her soul to the devil himself to keep them safe.

  Twenty-four 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 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 thirty-six 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 sleepwalking. The sense of unreality was tormenting. And the guilt …

  Everyone was angry, everyone felt guilty. However, Lucien was keeping them together. 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 well at all. 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 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 pretty much everything 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 looked at Jaeden or Alexa or thought about Dimitri’s death, she wanted revenge. Torturous and painful revenge.

  She took a deep breath, trying to deal with her emotions. “Maybe you should ta
lk to him. He lost his mom too. You should be comforting each other.”

  “I don’t want his comfort!” Jaeden spat, causing Caia to flinch at the venom. “All he and Lucien have been spouting for the last twenty-four 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!”

  “I’m with her on this.” Alexa appeared in the doorway. There were dark circles under her eyes, her mouth pinched, giving her the appearance of being older than her 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.”