“Dear God,” I murmur when I’m finished, kneeling down in front of the pile. I’m not a very religious person by any means, and let’s face it, God probably isn’t all that into vampires either. But for Sunny’s sake I try. “Please take care of my sister,” I whisper, the tears now falling unchecked from my eyes. I place her birthday present—still unwrapped—into her hands. “She didn’t deserve this.”
I find I can’t say any more. The lump in my throat is too big. I rise to my feet and slowly head back down the tunnel from where we came. As I crawl through, no longer really caring whether the ceiling collapses on me or not, all I can think, all I can beg for in my muddled, grief-stricken brain, is that Jareth is there, waiting for me on the other end. Because otherwise I seriously don’t know how I’m going to deal.
Soon, I arrive at the trap door, pushing it open and standing up into the purple tent, which, I quickly realize, has been torn to shreds. In fact, the entire camp is pretty much in shambles. The aftereffects of what appears to be a massacre. Vampires scurry past me, blood bags in their arms, rushing to and fro to attend to the wounded who lie scattered everywhere, their mournful cries sound tracking the air.
“We need more blood over here!” cries a blond vamp nearby.
“This is the last bag!’ calls another from across the camp.
I want to puke all over again. It’s hard enough to believe these vampires have survived as long as they have drinking mostly rodent blood. And they’re going to need a serious surplus of the human stuff if they expect to heal these types of wounds. All around me I see torn limbs, slashed-open stomachs, and massive head wounds. The kind of injuries that, without human blood transfusions, may take decades to heal on their own. The wolves came in and did their worst. It would have almost been kinder of the Consortium to send in a hundred slayers armed with stakes. At least that way death would have come quickly and painlessly.
But Pyrus, I realize, has never been one for kindness.
My eyes search the camp, frantically looking for a familiar face. At last I see Cinder carrying two buckets of blood over to a large group of wounded. She’s scraped up pretty bad but looks damn healthy compared to the rest of them. That human blood I let her drink before the attack probably saved her immortal life.
“Where’s Magnus? Where’s Jareth?” I ask, rushing over to her and grabbing her by the arm, not one hundred percent sure I want to know the answer to either question. Please don’t let them be dead. Please don’t let them be dead.
Cinder turns to me, a solemn look on her face. “Lord Magnus surrendered to the wolves,” she says. “He let them take him away.”
“What?” I cry. They took Magnus? So everything we tried to do was for nothing? “Why would he do something like that?”
She gives me a hard look. The look of someone who has seen far too much pain in her life. “To save the rest of the camp,” she says flatly. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must get this blood distributed.” She tries to push past me, but I stand my ground.
“What about… what about… Jareth,” I manage to finally spit out, though I have no idea how I’m going to take the news that something happened to him.
“He’s over in one of the remaining tents,” she says, giving me wan smile. “Some of the vampires… well, they believe he brought the wolves upon us. I felt that it was best he remain out of plain sight.”
“So he’s… alive.” My heart surges with hope.
She nods. “He’s doing much better than most. But then, he started out healthier to begin with.” She looks around the camp, dismay in her eyes. I rest a hand on her arm.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
“No more than I am,” she replies, then rushes away to deliver the blood to those who need it.
I draw in a long breath, then start toward the tent where Jareth hides, my stomach feeling as if it’s going to flip inside out as I step over dismembered limbs and bloody entrails. How could Pyrus get away with something like this? Was it simply because the other Consortium members have no idea what’s really going on? I force myself to pull my iPhone from my pocket, wincing as I click it on and see the wallpaper photo of Sunny and me making funny faces at the camera. Somehow I manage to find the photo app and start taking pictures. The others must know what went on here today.
“Get out of here!” cries a redheaded vampire in a ratty woolen dress, kneeling over a bloody child. “Don’t you have any respect for the dead?”
Guiltily, I stuff my camera back in my pocket. “I’m sorry,” I reply. “I didn’t mean… I mean, my sister died, too,” I tell her, my voice cracking as I relive the scene all over again.
Her face softens, and she rises to her feet, placing a comforting hand on my arm. “I’m sorry,” she murmurs. “It’s all so terrible. I thought when I came here I left all the atrocities from home behind. That I finally had a chance to make a fresh start. But even here, deep in this pit, it seems we are still not able to shrink from the Consortium’s grip.”
I don’t know what to tell her. Words seem so meaningless. I mean, sure they can try to rebuild. But now their secret world has been breached. They’ll probably have to abandon their home and find somewhere else to hide. To try to make a new life for themselves, somewhere.
“I promise you,” I vow, anger rising within me, “someday, somehow, I will make this right. Pyrus will pay for what he’s done to you.”