Shea was tired of being blamed for the debacle of that failed mission. She’d come to realize that perhaps the failing was not with her but them. That perhaps the bad blood had more to do with her mother’s position than anything she’d done.
The guilt she’d carried for all those deaths still lingered, but it wasn’t as heavy as it had once been.
Before anyone could mount any further arguments, Caden stalked inside, a body slung over his shoulders. His eyes were flinty and hard. If looks could kill, all those assembled would be dead right now.
Shea stiffened as she noted another Anateri behind him, carrying a similar burden. Her heart dropped to her stomach as she distantly noted Fallon beside her go so ramrod still, his form could have been carved from marble.
The bodies they carried wore the clothes of the Anateri.
Even before Caden laid down the first body with a gentleness belied by the rage on his face, Shea knew what they’d see. Her suspicions were confirmed when she saw the man’s face. He and the other were part of Fallon’s Anateri. More—they were two of his personal guard. A man and woman Shea hadn’t known well, but who had always been friendly the few times they interacted.
“We found them after the battle,” Caden said, his gaze locked on Fallon. The controlled restraint of his voice didn’t hide just how badly he wanted to kill everything in the room. “They were tasked with guarding the traitor. Now they’re dead.”
After his words had ended, he turned to spear each person with a dark look, making no secret of the fact that he held each of them to blame.
Fallon remained motionless beside Shea, his face an implacable mask. His eyes burned, the black in them turning to fire.
Shea came to her feet and crossed to the bodies, crouching by each so she could examine their wounds closer.
“You can’t think we had anything to do with this,” Gerald said, an affronted look in his expression.
“Who else?” Fallon asked softly.
Caden crouched beside her, a remote grief in his face. She looked up to see the same expression on many of the Anateri’s faces. Every one of them knew it could have been them on that floor.
While they understood the sacrifice that they might be called upon to make in the interest of protecting Fallon’s life—that they even welcomed the chance to give their life for his—it didn’t make the loss of these two any less painful. These were their brother and sister, bonded by a common purpose, countless hours of training—people they’d spilt blood with, people they’d toasted their victories and failures with.
Yes, this loss stung. Their severe expressions were evidence of that. Trenton met her gaze, sorrow in his, grief making him seem tired in a way the battle hadn’t.
She owed it to these two to find out what happened and to avenge their loss.
“What happened to Victoria?” Shea asked in a soft voice, ignoring the protestations around her as the pathfinders professed their ignorance in what had happened.
“Gone,” Caden said. The admission seemed to offend him. “There was no trace of her.”
Shea leaned closer, lifting one of their arms for a better look at their torso and any wounds the arms might be masking, or rather the lack of them. Neither body had any evidence that might explain how their lives had been taken. There were no rips in their clothes, no blood or broken bones. Nothing.
She frowned. Both looked relatively unharmed. The only clue otherwise was the look of extreme terror on their faces, as if they’d seen something so shocking and horrifying that it had followed them into death.
There was blue around the edges of both their mouths and dark pinpricks around the upper and lower lips.
Shea felt unease at their expressions. These two had known they weren’t going to make it. Known it and been unable to do a damn thing about it. If her suspicions were correct, their deaths hadn’t been quick and easy either.
Their deaths would have been excruciatingly slow as one watched the other have the life sucked out of them, knowing the entire time they were probably next. For people used to action and having their body answer to their commands, it would have been a devastating way to go.
Shea looked up at Fallon, her face showing some of her thoughts. She didn’t say anything, she couldn’t, even if she’d wanted to, the room had descended into a shouting match where each person was trying to be heard above their neighbor.
She stood, holding Fallon’s gaze.
Fallon raised a hand, gesturing for silence. To Shea’s surprise, the council of pathfinders listened, their voices cut off suddenly.
Her warlord settled his gaze on her. “What did you find?”
Shea suddenly found herself the center of many gazes, some friendly, others not. She took a deep breath and focused on Fallon. He was the only one that mattered.
“They weren’t killed by anything human,” she said into the sudden silence.
Reece stepped forward, his face suddenly intent. He didn’t get too close to the bodies, the aggressive stances of the Anateri warned him away from that.
