The crime scene had been a fucking nightmare, but the kids had been taken out of there and brought to the nearest guildhall. He'd put in a call to the orphanage that had taken in Sara, and the owner had promised to be there in the morning to take them in. The sick feeling in the pit of his stomach hadn't lessened, but they were safe, and the sick fuck who had decided to whore them out was dead.
Guess I got all the proof I need now, he'd thought bitterly. At least Yasika wouldn't be able to claim he wasn't doing his due diligence.
It was a damn shame someone had beat him to it, though.
Still, now he had to be the one to break the news to the family - a professional courtesy, and one that fell to him as the most senior member of the responding patrol. Which is how he found himself in the entrance of Lord Scumbag's estate, complete with curtseying daughter. Jareth kept his expression purposefully blank; no one could ever accuse him of being happy about delivering this news, but he sure as hell couldn't bring himself to be sad about it.
"Lady Miliona," he said, perfunctory bow in motion before he could think of it. "I'm afraid I've got some bad news." Policy dictated that it should be given to next of kin, but he didn't particularly care to wait until the fucker's wife came back. "Is there somewhere we can talk in private?"