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 been 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.