Page 55 of The Mercy of Dawn (Fires of Carinae #1)

Chapter 54

H ell wouldn’t even begin to describe what Cyril walked into. The blood…it was everywhere .

The other murders were nothing compared to this.

The thick tang of blood and death and decay hung so fucking heavy in the air, it was all Cyril could smell, all she could taste. Her breath sawed in ragged, shaky bursts behind her hand.

Every fiber of Cyril’s being screamed at her to run, to get as fucking far away as she could, but her body wouldn’t move.

Even with canvas bags shrouding their heads, there was no doubt in Cyril’s mind who the three maimed bodies chained to the far wall belonged to, their wrists manacled up high above their heads.

The emblem of the guard was embossed into their leather boots, the toes of which barely skimmed the dirt and gravel floor.

The bits of blue and black uniform, saturated in blood and left in shreds.

A single patch of Reykr’s birds in flight left clinging to threads caught between the pulled-apart ribs of a gaping chest.

All bits of confirmation that she did not need.

Fear had her muscles locked, and she couldn’t pull her eyes away.

Not from the bodies, or the runes painted over the walls, or the massive five-pointed star hewn from blood in front of the bodies chained to the wall. At each point, it looked like—

Gravel crunched behind her, and Cyril didn’t have time to react.

Something cold wrapped around her throat and ripped her backward.

A torrent of pain shot down her spine as she met the stone wall and everything went dark.