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With what I knew about demons, it was more likely they killed every person they found in this building. It was one of the reasons Shadow Stalkers feared the day strong demons crossed over to the human realm. The destruction they left in their wake was immeasurable and unforgiving.
The mere fact that they hadn’t taken the blood spoke strongly of a vendetta to kill and not consume. What occurred here was retaliation, a desire to punish, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out who they were after.
“They will come for you soon.”
No human truly stood a chance against a strong demon bent on their demise, not even a Shadow Stalker. Maybe not even me. Not the way I was, anyway. Worse, ambushed like they were, it was likely none of them saw it coming and were already at a disadvantage.
Fuck. They’ve been following me.
Closing my eyes, I didn’t sense a demon, but I stayed alert because strong demons like Nova went undetected.
Aidan finally reached the door of our condo, his heart thundering in my ears. He couldn’t have moved faster for a human as he clamored inside, the image that greeted our eyes as bad as we feared.
It was generous to say whatever demon had come, it wanted carnage. A lot of it. And as I took my first step, it was evident that no one and nothing would’ve ever survived what attacked Aidan’s crew. They didn’t stand a chance against whoever had been there.
It was a massacre.
But I didn’t grieve. No, only rage filtered into my thoughts as I scanned each corner of the living room for signs of life I knew weren’t there. The desire to seek vengeance and do whatever necessary to make it happen was all I could think about as I navigated saturated floors and destroyed furniture.
Sorrow, grief, sadness, those emotions never did me any good. I shut them down. Even with the clear signs of overwhelming death at my feet, I couldn’t let myself give into any emotion that wasn’t vengeful wrath. I couldn’t bring the dead back to life.
Instead, I’d bring vengeance.
I’d punish the evil responsible.
Determined, I scoured the area for some clue, some sort of sign so that I could track this fucking thing. Or many fucking things.
And as I stepped over the carnage of innocent lives lost, I idly wondered what the newspapers and media might say about what occurred here. What would they spin on this tale of mass murder? It’d have to be good.
With this number of souls lost, gruesomely torn limb from limb, bodies eviscerated and unrecognizable, even the feds would have trouble pinning this one down to a normal human-caused massacre. Most likely, the ties the Shadow Stalkers had with the government and police meant they’d come swooping in. So, my friend wouldn’t truly be alone.
Not if I left.
Aidan checked every room, like his friends—his family—weren’t strewn about the floor in literal pieces. Blood stained the walls, the ceilings, the expensive floors and furnishings. Everywhere we looked, death marked the spot.
I counted seven torsos. Among them were Serena and Ty. I knew because she was the only female and he had a gruesome scar that cut from shoulder to hip that I somehow recognized through all the blood and mangled flesh.
As much of an asshole as Ty was, he didn’t deserve to go out this way. Serena, I could confidently say, was the last one to go. She was the strongest, and she would’ve put up the biggest fight. But even she was only human at the end of the day.
Kneeling, I collected some off-color liquid that had a weirder sheen than the rest. Demon blood. The scent of its blood I could track back to it. Knowing Serena, she’d likely got a hit in before her demise, so I thanked the fallen Shadow Stalker for her sacrifice.
It hit like lead in the stomach to see their once-familiar forms nearly unrecognizable and reduced to nothing but bloody flesh. But I’d make damn sure that the person, thething, responsible for their deaths would pay in the most torturous way possible.
I may have claimed not to care if they lived or died, but it was a different story while standing over the mangled corpses of the people who I’d fought beside countless times. Who I’d gotten to know, most times against my will. Who I’d shared meals and snarky banter with. Who were just trying to make a difference in the world. All of these realizations, only to comprehend a second later that I’d never see them again. That, in the end, they all suffered and died because of me.
A feeling I refused to acknowledge took hold of my throat, but I worked through it and focused on where to go next.
Some of our Shadow Stalkers were unaccounted for, but I imagined we’d find them in the rooms nearby, probably in an effort to help orchestrate an escape for anyone left alive.
Aidan went to his knees, already saturated with blood. His outfit reeked of our fellow Shadow Stalkers, but he continued to try to identify each person lost—every piece of them. And as if I were numb to it all, I watched grief wreak havoc on his expression, his body, his every fiber, but did nothing.
Inhaling a suffering breath, my companion rose and shed his emotions like he’d trained his entire life to do. “We need to check the other condos for survivors.” I didn’t know how to tell him there weren’t any. “And then we need to leave.”
Was this what Nova warned me about? Was this what he meant when he said they’d come for me?
I lifted my hands, the rage of a lifetime of abuse and shitty circumstances sitting in my throat. “I’m not going, Aidan. This is because of me, and I’m the only one who can do something about it.”
His eyes flickered with confusion. “This isn’t—”
