Page 6 of Commanding Blood And Bonds

Together, we misted through the warehouse, solidifying outside the pillaged file room. Shouts reverberated, competing with the thud of combat boots against the harsh floor and the jostle of equipment as our response crew searched the building. Forehead pinched, heart rate accelerating, I surveyed the mess within. Black metal cabinets had been knocked sidelong, a broken fluorescent light flickering feebly where it hung from the ceiling, a pathetic attempt to keep the wrecked space lit. Our computer monitors had been absolutely obliterated, and judging by the shatter marks, it had been done with my own steel bat. Papers everywhere. The ceiling fan was broken, creaking in a frantic spin as the blades raced in useless grinding rotations.

My jaw protested how tightly I clenched it.

What. The fuck.

“Looks like a smash room,” Calypso muttered under her breath. Nodding, I scanned the space. No footprints. No items that didn’t belong. But the floor was covered in litter, every damn surface layered in something. I knelt down to flip open one of the manila envelopes that our raider had used to outline a star on the floor, with one standing black cabinet that—judging by the gouges in the linoleum—had been dragged to the center. Scowling, equally intrigued and infuriated, I opened a drawer, finding it entirely vacant.

“Cy!” Carr’s voice cut through the tension as he swung his head around the door frame. My cousin was tall, like me and Dad, though his seven-foot frame was packed with more muscle than either of us. He shared my blond hair and tan skin, but while my eyes were a light hazel, his were a rich sapphire blue. A deep furrow between them, those razor blues were trained on me now.

“You’re gonna wanna see this.”

“What?” I barked, irritation oozing from the word.

“Come on, man. The whole place is torn to pieces.”

Which meant...they hadn’t tripped an alarm in the process. They got what they came for and wanted us to fucking know. That, or they made one shitty move at the end of a long series of life-ending stupidity. As I followed Carr around the corner, the hair on my neck rose to attention, halting my feet as I glanced over my shoulder. Were we being watched? My shadows certainly seemed to think so.

“Your mom just got here and⁠—”

“Where is she?” I cut in impatiently. Now wasn’t the time for yammering; I needed to run dispatch for our crews and do so quickly. A strike like this could never be tolerated, and with the world on the brink of chaos, now was not the time to hesitate.

“In the mess.”

“Why?” I demanded, glaring down at him as we rounded the corner towards the mess hall.

“You’ll fuckin’ see. This is some sick joke, Cy. Whoever did this is out for blood. Literally.”

“Find them.”

“Reyna?”

“No, you dumb shit. This is too bold for Bellaton. Find our thief.” Dark smoke began to creep from the nearest door frames, stretching toward the center of the room, climbing up the walls toward the ceiling as I burst through the swinging double doors. “And get that damned fire out.”

“On it,” Carr barked, turning calmly on his heel—as if we weren’t under siege—as he drew water between his palms before kicking open the nearest door.

My boots screeched against linoleum as I took in the mess hall. Mom was staring up at the wall I learned to play dodgeball on. Blood dripped down the aged white paint. I stepped up beside her, mouth popping open as I took in the words.

Did you think I would forget?

“Ma’?”

Eyes glazed with something perilously close to fear—an emotion I’d never seen on her before—my mother, Queen of the Southern Paladins, turned to look at me. Her lips parted, disbelief etched into every line of her face.

The shadows whispered, She’s still here.

“She?” I demanded aloud. The single word widened my mother’s bright blue eyes as she dragged a shaky hand over her mouth. What the hell was wrong with her?

“She’s back,” she managed, voice scraped raw.

“What?” I blinked.

She’s escaping, the shadows hissed.

“Get her out of here,” I barked at Cali, who nodded sharply and moved past me. I turned back the way we came, leaving my incoherent mother to her stupor, irritation burning in my veins. Whatever had rattled her could wait—I had bigger problems.

Gun drawn, I followed the shadows deeper into the warehouse, rounding two corners before a thin curl of smoke snagged my senses like a hooked lure, reeling me forward.

Motherfucker—who the hell was stupid enough to set fire to Paladin territory? Our home, at that.