“I don’t think any family would want to see them like this,” Perry added after a beat. “If theyhavefamily.”
“If not, we’ll prepare them for burial rites,” I heard Poppy say, her voice thin but steady.
The man’s smile was almost peaceful.
Actually, itwaspeaceful.
I dragged my gaze from his face. A pool of blood had started to congeal beneath his head. The fatal wound was easy to locate. You couldn’t miss it. There was a ragged, red slash across his throat, evidence that whatever had been used was dull.
Who the fuck smiled like that when their death was so violent?
Kieran knelt as I swept my gaze over the mortal’s body, quickly discovering the weapon. In his pale, ghastly white hand, he clutched what appeared to be a meat knife. Blood had dried on the blade, turning a rusty brown.
My spine straightened. “He did this to himself?”
“They all appear to have done it to themselves,” Malik answered.
My head whipped to him. “What?”
My brother nodded. “Once we realized this affected more than one family, we thought it was one of the Revenants still out there—or a group of them. But as you can see, their wounds are self-inflicted.”
“Even the—” Naill cleared his throat. “Even the children, Cas.”
I didn’t believe it.
I couldn’t.
Stepping over the man’s prone legs, I gripped the sheet draped over the two smaller bodies and yanked it back.
Little girls.
Kieran stood in a rush as Delano whimpered, pressing into Poppy’s side. Taking a step back, Kieran crossed his arms.
Two little, blond-haired girls, nowhere even near the age to have such thoughts in their heads, had faces forever frozen in smiles and bloodied glass clutched in their tiny hands.
“Gods,” I choked out. “That isn’t right.”
“Tell me about it,” muttered Perry. “But there’s no bruising to indicate they were forced. And nothing in the house shows any signs of a struggle.”
“It looks like they came into the kitchen of their own accord, lay down side by side, and…” Malik inhaled deeply. “And noone on the nearby streets has reported hearing any yelling or screams.”
“There’s no way a child of that age would be capable of doing something like that.” I gestured at their bodies. “Not on their own.”
The men were quiet, and then Naill spoke, “They’re not the only ones, Cas. Out of the fifty or so we’ve found, fifteen appear to be children under the age of ten.”
Fucking gods.
My eyes slammed shut as I tried to make sense of the tragedy. “Could they be Blood Crown supporters?”
“Possibly,” Naill said. “They were taught for generations that the gods favored the Ascended, and that Atlantians were responsible for all the evil and pain in the realm.”
“Perhaps they couldn’t deal with the truth,” Perry said.
“I don’t know.” Malik exhaled heavily. “When it comes to the children, they would’ve had to be coaxed into it by their parents or caregivers. And what kind of fucking monster would do that?”
“Someone whose faith in the lies fed to them by the Ascended is greater than the bonds of their own blood.” Frustration and simmering anger hardened my tone as I opened my eyes. My gaze settled on the wide windowsill. Several potted plants sat there. I had no idea what kind they were. Maybe ferns? But they were nothing more than wilted, brittle stems and leaves curled against the sides of their vivid ceramic pots now. I looked back down at the bodies. “A fucking dinner knife.”
“Yeah.” Naill drew out the word. “It appears all of them either used dinner knives or makeshift blades like glass or sharpened stone.”
