“Jesus Christ,” Micah said, coming out with a pasty complexion. “Sick fucking bastards.”
Onyx and I made our way to the porch, and I caught the scent of rot and excretion drifting from the structure. I pressed my arm over my mouth and fought the urge to throw up what little I’d held down today. Both men turned, staring at us with slumped shoulders and a sad expression on their faces.
“What is it?” I asked, not moving my arm from my nose.
“Use this,” Bali announced, exiting the house to hand us a cream. “Put it beneath your nose. It will help some, but it won’t take away the stench of what is inside that horror show of a fucking mess.”
My eyebrows shot up, but I schooled my features and did as he’d instructed. The menthol ointment made my nose run and my eyes water, but it did aid in masking the putrid smell that had been unleashed.
Someone inside was opening windows as I glanced over at Noah and Micah. Both men looked ill over whatever they’d discovered, and I waited for one or the other to explain what we were about to walk into, but they seemed to be having trouble speaking.
“You need to prepare yourself for what you’re about to see, Xariana,” Noah stated, causing the skin on my nape to rise. I glanced between him and Micah, finding them both watching me with a weary look in their gazes. “Brodie called me, and I agreed to let you handle the situation at the morgue while I followed up on what had happened here. I wanted to make sure it was him. I didn’t want you to be the first one to find your father like this.”
The blood left my face, draining as my heart shattered. I shook my head, knowing they had to be wrong. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be. It had to be a mistake. Nausea burned the back of my throat, and both men wiped at their eyes.
“I’m so sorry, Minx,” Micah whispered thickly.
“This is where the captives were being held,” Noah continued, fighting to remain in control of his emotions. “In the basement is what we believe to be a breeding program. Incubators and medical beds line the walls, and half-breed remains are secured to each bed with chains. We’re still investigating this as an active scene, but you deserve to know what happened here, Xariana.”
I nodded slowly, fighting to make words leave my lips, but nothing came out. Noah pulled me close, holding me tightly against his massive frame. Micah watched solemnly while Onyx wiped at the tears running down her cheeks. Kaderyn exited the front door, observing us before she turned away, tossing up the contents of her stomach over the porch railing.
After a few moments had passed, Noah grabbed my hand, pulling me inside behind him. It looked like teenagers had used this place as a party house. There were broken beer bottles littered on the floor with used condoms and trash everywhere.
Noah directed me to the stairs that led to the lower level, his hand tightening on mine as we descended to where the staunch scent of death was rising. It was a startling change from the main floor. The walls were covered with medical-grade plastic, and they had divided the basement into rooms, using the same thick material.
Micah held a sheet of plastic back, and I fought the bile threatening to come up my throat. On the first bed was what appeared to be a fae woman, and beside her, with a chain on her wrist, was a half-breed. Both were in different stages of decay, and an empty incubator sat near the bed with more high-end medical equipment.
I slowly removed my hand from Noah’s, using my foot to push the half-fae woman over to reveal her stomach. It was rounded as if she’d been pregnant. An incision from her chest to her pelvic bone indicated someone had performed a cesarean section on her. Turning to the woman on the bed, I narrowed my eyes on her abdomen, which had also been cut open.
“They tried to transplant the fetus into the fae mother,” I pointed out, and Noah and Micah nodded in silent agreement. “The women Brodie showed me didn’t have any incisions that would indicate they had been opened up.”
“No,” Noah stated. “They were in the early stages of the program. There are beds down the hall with women chained in a manner that forced their legs apart. We think they were being raped until conception. After they’d become pregnant, they moved them here to have the fetus transplanted into their fae mates. It explains why none of the victims had the notches to indicate they’d ever birthed a child. They never made it to that stage of their pregnancy.”
“The women in the morgue didn’t have a fetus in their wombs, though. They merely appeared as if they had a baby within their bellies,” Onyx pointed out, gagging as the smell grew thicker.
“Because they’d already given birth,” Micah snorted. “They found a way around their infertility issues. They used these women as test subjects, uncaring if they suffered or perished during the process. These fae women weren’t the ones wanting children. They were the unlucky victims used to make sure the procedures worked.”
“It’s a lab,” I swallowed past the saliva forming in my mouth, needing to excrete the bile growing within my stomach. “The fae women were here voluntarily to ensure their realm doesn’t die. They are desperate to create the elements their world lost, and these women gave their lives for the cause. You’ll notice they’re not chained to the beds,” I said, motioning to a corpse. “They came willingly.”
“Yeah, we guessed that when we found the chamber further below. Unfortunately for them, they chose the one home surrounded by iron that would slowly poison them to death. I believe that’s why none of them showed signs of what killed them. An iron mine is less than a mile up the road, and they failed to detect it until it was too late. My guess is that they had someone here helping them, and they didn’t investigate what was in the area,” Noah stated, nodding toward an opening at the back wall. “Xavier is in there, Xariana. You don’t have to see him like this. We can take care of the body and bring him outside.”
I shook my head, slowly peering into the space that had been secured with large locks on the door. Everything within me screamed to run, not to enter the room, and to pretend he wasn’t gone. But my father had raised me better than that. He’d taught me never to believe something was dead unless you’d looked into its soulless eyes and verified the truth for yourself.
Trembling, I crept toward the darkened area that sat off to the side of the plastic breeding chambers. I touched the door, closing my eyes with regret. There would be two versions of me now—one before my world was shattered, and one after. I wanted to tuck my tail between my legs and run away. I knew if I did, no one would judge me. No one but me, and I couldn’t escape myself.
Pushing the door open, I peeked inside. Dried blood caked the walls, and on a dirty mattress, with half his head missing, was my father. I choked down a scream that was building in my chest as everything inside of me rebelled. A thousand words of denial shot through me as my surroundings spun. My dad had been torn apart, as if he’d fought for his life.
His hands were shredded, with parts of them gone, and his torso had been ripped open, leaving his guts spilling out of his abdomen. There were machetes and other wicked-looking blades discarded around his body, as if several beings had taken part in his torture, enjoying the slaughter of my dad.
Turning away from the sight, I ran from the room blindly, exiting the scene before my stomach lost the fight, and I threw up everything within me onto the earth. Hands touched my back, and a bottle of water was handed to me, which I accepted and drank greedily, only to throw it up, too.