Dmitri took another step forward. “Myris. Talk to—”
Myris exploded. The blast was powerful enough to throw us all back. Flashes of amber and red covered my eyes. I could feel my skin heat up. The smell of burnt flesh invaded my nostrils. Screams tore through the banquet hall.
Someone cried out for help. Glass broke.
I landed on my back. My head conked on the marble floor.
Herakles grunted, somewhere to my right.
“Somebody get help!” someone shouted. He sounded familiar.
But I was in a daze. Too soft to think any further. A fire fae had just exploded like a pile of dynamite, less than twenty yards from me. I had a feeling that the burning flesh I smelled was mine.
Son of a…
Varga
My ears were ringing.
The blast had leveled most of the banquet hall. Food, drinks, and blood were scattered across the white marble floor. As I raised my head and briefly glanced around, I felt the terror tightening its grip around my throat. Too many bodies, and not enough of them moving—or even whole, for that matter.
A few minutes must’ve passed since the explosion.
The witches and the vampires who had not been too close to Myris were already rushing to offer assistance and first aid to those who needed it. Dozens of fae were down. Bajangs. Druids. Dhaxanians. Maras. I wasn’t sure how many had actually survived the blast.
“Varga…” Dad croaked.
I looked to my left and found him and Mom stuck under the overturned table. Their faces were covered in blood. The sight sent my heart racing, releasing an adrenaline pulse that forced me into a sudden, upright position.
Maybe too sudden.
My head spun for a moment, before everything came back into focus. The rest of the foiled wedding party was already in damage control mode. The doors had opened wide, and dozens of Eritopian soldiers came in to help.
I pulled the table off my parents, then checked each of them, carefully.
Mom gave me a weak smile as I helped her up. Dad groaned from a pain in his back but managed to stand on his own.
Elonora and Nevis joined us. I hadn’t even seen them a few seconds ago. They seemed okay, too, if I ignored the bruises and cuts resulting from what had to be the table hitting them both.
“What the hell happened?” I gasped.
“I have no idea,” Mom replied, then looked over my shoulder. “It had to come from there…”
“Yeah,” Elonora said. “I saw him. I saw Dmitri going toward him. Raphael and Herakles were close. Oh God, Sherus and Nuriya… Taeral…” she added, her voice trailing off.
“Are you two okay?” I asked Mom and Dad.
“Don’t worry about us, son,” Dad said, then pointed at my sister. She’d already darted over to the center of the explosion. “Go help the others.”
I didn’t wait to be told twice. I ran over to where I’d last seen Dmitri, Herakles, and Raphael. Fortunately, the three of them were okay. Raphael had some pretty nasty burns, and his military uniform was in tatters. Herakles and Dmitri were covered in cuts and second-degree burns, but Elonora was already dispensing some of her vampire blood from both wrists to help them heal faster.
I cut mine open, then pressed it against Raphael’s lips. “Drink, dude. You’ll feel better,” I told him. He drank, giving me a thankful nod in the process.
Nevis was closer to the heart of the blast, but he seemed conscious, despite some injuries to his back and legs—I had a feeling he’d dropped on the ground before the explosion hit him like it had hit Raphael. The floor was black on a fifty-yard radius. The tables and chairs were charred stumps. Smoke came out in twirling gray threads. The smell of burnt flesh made my heart tear itself apart on the inside. There were bodies left behind—other fae and innocent guests. Nothing was left of Myris, with the exception of a single, blackened boot.
The dinner I’d just had threatened to come back out.
Sofia and Derek came over, accompanied by Lumi, Kailani, and Hunter. Harper and Caspian were recovering, from what I could tell. Fiona and Zane’s baby was crying. I held my breath for a moment, then exhaled sharply, remembering that both Voss and Chantal were downstairs with their incubi nannies. Sophia was the only infant in attendance, and she seemed to be okay. Most of Zane’s back was pitch black—he’d shielded his baby and Fiona during the blast.
Serena was on her back, her baby bump round and healthy. Draven knelt next to her, while Viola checked her vitals and gave her a comforting nod. She, too, was going to be okay.
“That was Myris Fenn,” Dmitri managed, just as Douma came over and helped him up.
She measured him from head to toe, then kissed him, deeply. “You’re okay,” she concluded, and smiled at Elonora. “Thank you.”
My sister nodded, then moved on to other injured guests, while Nevis helped Jax and Heron with a preliminary body count. The entire wedding party had just turned into a post-massacre investigation. It didn’t matter what we’d been doing prior to the explosion. We were all in GASP mode now, and there was no way we weren’t getting to the bottom of… whatever the hell this was.
“Myris Fenn?” Derek asked, frowning. He and Sofia only had a couple of scratches from the shockwave.
Someone’s scream reminded me that not everyone was as lucky. Following the source, I saw a young succubus kneeling on the edge of the blast radius, crying as she pointed at the charred remains. “Mother… Mother, no…” she sobbed.
My eyes stung. More people were coming forward, recognizing those who’d perished. They’d been burnt beyond recognition, but Jax and Heron had the guest list, and some memorable items had been left behind—only slightly burnt. A ring, a bracelet… an arm with a birthmark.
I turned around, looking away from the scene. Dinner was still stuck in my throat, ready to shoot out if provoked.
“He’s from Sherus and Nuriya’s delegation,” Dmitri said. “Myris Fenn. I knew him. He… He was an okay guy. We trained together for a few weeks during a visit to the Fire Star.”
“This doesn’t make sense,” Taeral interjected, joining our group.
