53. Guilty Voices

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"We should get back," Dorian said, wiping a smear of blood off his cheek. "People will begin to wonder where we are. Chaol can only cover for us for so long."

"I agree." Manon licked blood off her iron nails, then retracted them, along with her iron teeth. "And I'm getting tired of the scent of piss and vomit." She eyed the remnants of the four males with open disgust.

"What should we do with them?" Aeron jerked his chin towards the bodies. He wiped Vaughan's dagger clean, and handed it back to him hilt first.

Vaughan took the blade wordlessly and sheathed it at his thigh. He was going to have the blade melted down and repurposed as soon as possible. He didn't want a weapon that would forever reek of the four corpses at his feet. They hadn't used any other blades on the males. Only his dagger and an assortment of magic. Vaughan and Aeron had done the torturing, and in the end, Aeron had been the one to kill the males. All of them.

"Brye will know something's up when they fail to report to him and whomever their commanders in Erilea are," Lorcan growled. "Perhaps we should send him a message." He kicked Malik's shock of white hair, which had been completely severed from his scalp.

"Tempting, but unwise," Rowan replied, crossing his arms. "Sending a message like that will provoke an earlier Revolutionist attack. There's a risk of that anyway, if Brye guesses they were caught and broken. We should just dispose of the bodies. Make it look like they backed out. We'll have to hope that's enough."

"I'll let you four handle that," Dorian said. "You're more skilled at it anyway." Rowan gave a short nod, and Dorian started down the tunnel. Seconds later, Manon followed.

Vaughan lit a ball of fire and tossed it onto the nearest corpse. Kron ignited into flames. They soon crackled with heat and took on shades of red and orange. The flames shifted to Malik, then to the other bodies. Vaughan watched silently, unable to make himself move. The flames. The scent of burning flesh. It reminded him too much of his family. Too much of Connall.

"Go back to the palace," Rowan murmured, touching Vaughan's shoulder. "Lorcan and I will stay and clean up the ashes once the bodies have burned."

Vaughan barely nodded and managed to give Lorcan a grateful look. Aeron fell in step with him as he made his way out of the catacombs. Neither of them said a word during the entire walk through the city. Vaughan allowed his flames to consume the gore that clung to them both, knowing it would attract the wrong attention in the streets and at the palace.

Aeron finally spoke once they reached the palace courtyard. "Do you want to see her first or shall I?"

"You," Vaughan said.

"Are you sure?"

"When I go to her, I won't leave. Unless you want me there when you talk to her, I suggest you go first."

"All right." Aeron's throat bobbed and he clenched his jaw. "Are you going to tell her the truth?"

"Yes. I'll tell her everything."

"Good." Vaughan glanced at Aeron, but the Demi-Fae kept staring straight ahead. "If you're anything less than truthful with her ever again, I'll do to you what we did to those males."

"I'll let you."

They entered the palace and passed through the oddly silent corridors. When they reached the floor they were staying on, Vaughan was surprised to see Kyllian. He was pacing in front of Luciana's room and biting his nails rather nervously. His dark head turned at the sound of their footsteps.

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