Ryker had to force himself to be the first to set foot in the familiar home. Anxiety and fear made his movements as heavy as lead. Although the cottage immediately welcomed him with the cosy, woody, sweet scent of the two women's perfumes, it only worsened the knot in his stomach.

Ryker moved forward, casting a watchful glance over the kitchen and the visible area, and immediately, his heart went cold. A chair at the kitchen table had been knocked over, and he recognised reddish-brown stains on the back. The realisation didn't hit his head fast enough when Dylan's voice rose: "Ray."

Dylan's tone made him shudder before he turned halfway around. Dylan had wanted to close the door behind them, but now he pointed his chin at the white that Ryker had newly painted only a few days ago. There were smeared, bloody prints on it, and they stained the colour inside the door. The brass handle of the door was smeared, too, and Dylan stared at the palm of his hand with a hard expression. He must have reached into it and noticed it that way.

Ryker's throat closed up so much that he could hardly breathe.

"This can't be happening..." he whispered so softly that only Dylan might have understood him. Both men looked at each other as Ryker's eyes fell to the floor. Drops traced a trail across the wooden floor. Some of them were so tiny that they were hardly visible from a standing position. Others were larger...

Dylan took a big step forward, and Ryker managed to grab and stop him from rushing off.

"Let go of me!" Dylan hissed through gritted teeth, and Ryker only grabbed him tighter. "Eve might be hurt! And Liam...!"

"That's why you can't rush headlong now!" Ryker hissed back. Again, his gaze followed the trail. What had happened? Had the bastard attacked Eve and Liam? Was Riona hurt or Edana? Had he fled afterwards and left the tracks or...

"We have to go and see. Come on!"

Careful to avoid the creaking floorboards, he put one foot in front of the other. Dylan followed like a shadow. His comrade tried to place his feet exactly where Ryker had stepped before.

They crept into the house meter by meter. The men were tense as they paused briefly, taking cover behind the kitchen counter and listening.

Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

No groans, no whimpers, no screams...

Nothing. Just silence.

That was not good.

Both men exchanged a new look. The weight of the tension lay on their shoulders as they pushed themselves out from behind the kitchen counter and finally moved into the living room, from where they aimed for the door and the hallway.

But both men were struck as if by lightning by the sight that met their eyes.

"What the-?" he gasped quietly behind him, as Dylan peered over his shoulder and lent the bizarre situation an apt expression. What they saw set off alarm bells for him and no doubt for Dylan, too.

Before them was a sea of smashed wood and shards, in which it was difficult to see the glass table that had once stood between the couch and the fireplace. The armchair was knocked over and lying on its back like a dead animal. It didn't take Ryker's skills as a detective to see the evidence of a fight in the mess. The shards of the table were smeared with blood in several places. Ryker's eyes followed a few drops that stood out like red berries in winter a little way across the parquet. They led from the spot to the kitchen and from there to the back door.

"Maybe she caught him and chased him away..." Dylan expressed the ridiculous hope that neither of them could shake. Instead, the sight sent another shiver down Ray's spine, making him fear the worst. It was a bad, disgusting feeling that sat in his stomach... but so far, his gut had rarely betrayed him.

"Wait right here and cover me," he hissed quietly before carefully venturing forward. The shards crunched under his feet as he squatted down. It only took one look for him to be completely sure what was stuck to the floor. Still, he trembled as he reached out his hand and touched the dark pool that had formed in one spot.

"Someone was hurt and bleeding... a lot," the words sounded quiet, but heavy stones rolled over his lips while his breathing quickened as if by itself. He tried to suppress the image that pushed into his consciousness—Eve and Liam, with wide-open eyes... dead eyes.

'No. You're not too late!'

"Cold, but not dry," he murmured, fighting the tremor that crept into his fingers.

"That's a lot of blood, Raven," Dylan spoke his own dark thoughts. "We don't know how long ago it happened... blood gets cold quickly. Anything could have happened."

"I know... but we don't know whose blood it is. We have to hope that it's not Eve's or Liam's," he tried to encourage himself. But he knew that the probability was vanishingly small. He hadn't been here, and neither Eve nor Riona were physically capable of taking on a man, even if you included the element of surprise.

"Doesn't it have a phone?"

The phone!

Ryker bridged the distance to the cottage's phone in moments. He doesn't realise that he mirrored Eve's reaction when he presses the hook.

"No signal," he told Dylan briefly. 'The power's still on,' he then realised, thinking of the light bulb in the shed. Someone must have cut the line.'

That was crap. If one of the others wasn't feeling well, no matter who, they couldn't call for help. The nearest hospital was far away...

'You mustn't think like that,' he admonished himself. 'But what if...' his own voice immediately objected, as if an angel full of hope and the devil were sitting on his shoulder, the latter wanting to warn him of the hell that might be about to break over him.

"We have to go upstairs. Maybe we'll find a clue. And with a lot of luck, the rifle is still there. Then, at least, we have a weapon. There should be cartridges in Edna's room at the top of the stairs. You go get them... I know where Eve left the rifle." He indicated as he returned to Dylan and didn't bother to grip the stick in his hand more firmly or move more cautiously.

"Shouldn't we call for help?" Dylan remarked, reaching into his pocket for the cell phone just as Ryker appeared on the steps.

Turning his gaze, his usually soft facial expression was hard as stone, and his blue eyes were completely dark. 'It's no use...' he mumbled and pointed behind Dylan. "He knew what he was doing. And our cell phones are useless here. Why do you think I haven't called you already, snorting with rage? Silvershore is practically cut off from the outside world. Now, come on, we don't have time!"

For a moment, Ryker expected Dylan to continue arguing with him, yet the man just pursed his lips before following him up the stairs. But once they reached the top of the stairs, the next sight that awaited them was absolutely disgusting and insane.