“That’s Charlie,” Devon whispered in a sad voice. “He worked for the Family for more than ten years. He was a good guy.”
We all stared at the body. Devon sighed, then leaned down and gently closed Charlie’s open, sightless eyes. He straightened back up and his gaze locked with mine, all of his soul-crushing grief, stomach-churning fear, and sharp worry filling my heart as though they were my own emotions.
They definitely were tonight.
The closer we crept to the mansion, the more bodies we found, Sinclair and Draconi alike. My stomach knotted up. I wondered who had won in the end, if the Sinclairs had pushed Victor’s guards back or if the Draconis had wiped them out.
We were about to find out.
Finally, we reached the edge of the woods that ringed the mansion. Still being as quiet as possible, we crept forward, hunkered down behind some bushes, and peered around the branches.
No guards patrolled the outside of the mansion, although more bodies littered the lawn, both Sinclairs and Draconis. The coppery stench of blood filled the air, and flies and mosquitoes buzzed over the bodies in thick, grotesque black clouds. Beyond the lawn, lights blazed in practically every room in the mansion, but no one moved back and forth past the windows, and I didn’t hear any yells, shouts, or screams. Whatever had happened here, it was already over.
That cold fist of fear wrapped around my heart again as I worried about Oscar and Tiny. They’d both been in the mansion when we’d left, along with dozens of other people and pixies.
If Oscar and Tiny were hurt . . . if they’d been captured. . . if they’d been killed . . .
Tears pricked my eyes, but I forced myself to blink them back. If anything had happened to the pixie and the tortoise, I would never, ever forgive myself.
Because this was all my fault.
I should have realized that Victor wouldn’t wait forever to use those black blades and that the Family dinner was the perfect time for him to strike. Stealing the weapons hadn’t been enough, and I should have found a way to stop him completely. Now, people were dead—people I knew, respected, and cared about.
More tears welled up in my eyes, but I blinked them back as well. I couldn’t change what had happened; all I could do now was press forward and do my absolute best to make sure that the rest of my friends stayed safe.
“Now what?” Felix said. “I don’t see any signs of life, and nobody is answering their phone. I’ve tried every single person I can think of, and no one’s picked up.”
“Now we go into the mansion and see if anyone’s left,” I said. “Maybe some folks were able to hide before the Draconis found them. Then we get the black blades, get out of here, and figure out what our next move is. Follow me.”
I headed toward the mansion, and the others fell in line behind me. Our footsteps didn’t make so much as a whisper in the grass as we crept closer and closer to the mansion. Felix stopped to grab a sword from a dead guard, and I used my magic to look ahead, to stare in through the windows and get a better sense of what might have happened inside—and especially to see if there were any survivors.
But no one moved into my line of sight, and the mansion seemed completely empty and deserted.
We reached one of the side doors. I didn’t even bother trying the knob, since all the glass in the door had been busted out, probably by someone slamming a sword through it. I looked at my friends, and they all nodded back at me. I stepped through the shattered glass, with them still following along behind me, all of our swords raised and ready.
The inside of the mansion was a disaster area. Glass had been smashed out of windows, locked doors had been broken down, tables, lamps, and chairs had been knocked over. It seemed as though every single piece of furniture had either been upended or shoved over onto its side, and then stomped on for good measure. Pillows were scattered everywhere, along with books, paperweights, and crystal candlesticks that had broken apart into jagged chunks when they’d hit the floor.
But the worst part was the bodies.
They were everywhere, crowded together right in front of the doors and windows, sprawled in the middle of the hallways, slumped over the stairs. Some of them were even pinned in place with swords up against the walls, looking more like dolls than real people. And blood covered everything, from the white marble floors to the few paintings still hanging crookedly on the walls to even the crystal chandeliers that dangled down from the ceilings.