Page 143 of Shadowblood Souls: The Complete Series

“Yeah, let’s see how they do. I think we can get away with a fairly short rest and then keep going as soon as it’s daylight.

We can have a longer break the next night, if it takes that long.

It’ll be better not to let Nadia drain herself too badly—and we’ll be harder to find when we won’t stand out against the darkness anyway. ”

I dodge a waxy-leafed bush and rub my arms. A fly buzzes around me and starts to land on my elbow before I swat it away.

The jungle air is humid, nearly as warm at night as it was on the island, but my fears send a chill through the sweat on my skin.

I told these kids we’d get them to someplace better than the facility. I have to make sure that this time I keep my promise.

As we push on through the brush, the minutes blur into hours. Stars glint overhead in the small gaps in the canopy of leaves.

From time to time, Andreas lifts his voice with his storyteller’s cadence. Because of course he has stories to go with even this trek.

“One time, I came across a woman who’d done a hike all the way from one end of the States to the other,” he says.

“All on her own. It took weeks, and most of that time some part of her was aching, and she’d get hungry for food she couldn’t have carried on the trail.

But when she got back, if anyone asked, she’d tell them the worst part was the loneliness.

She said she’d do it over again if she had the right company. ”

He glances around at us with a weary but honest smile. “We don’t have anywhere near that far to go, and we’ve got each other. I think we’ve got this.”

His assurance helps steady me, so I hope it does the same for the younger shadowbloods as well.

But even my supernaturally strong legs are feeling the burn by the time the ground starts to slant upward in an increasingly steep slope. I notice George and Devon wobbling as they trudge onward.

Have we come far enough that it’s safe to stop? How can I possibly know?

The sound of trickling water is what decides the issue. Zian turns his head toward it, no doubt hearing it much more clearly than I can.

“I think there’s a waterfall,” he says. “Running water is safer than still, right?”

Dominic nods. “Let’s take a look at it and see if we want to risk it. Either way, this might be a good time to set up some kind of camp. We’ll tackle the hill better after we’ve gotten some rest.”

I don’t miss the sighs of relief that carry through our younger charges. Yes, it was definitely time to stop.

We veer toward the sound of the water and halt our march when Nadia’s light glints off a current about a foot wide burbling down a sheerer section of the hill. As she heads over with Dominic and Andreas to inspect the water, the rest of us hunker down among the trees.

“Have a snack if you’re hungry, and then I guess curl up wherever you can make yourself decently comfortable,” I tell the kids. At least it’s warm and reasonably dry for the moment.

I don’t want to think about what we’ll do if it starts raining.

Our three water analysts return with uncertain expressions. “It looks pretty clean, but there are flecks of dirt in it,” Andreas says. “I took a gulp, and if I’m still okay by tomorrow, we can all have a drink.” He nudges Dominic. “Otherwise I’m relying on Dom to cure me.”

I don’t love him using himself as a test subject, but I guess we don’t have a lot of choice. “Juice for tonight, then, anyone who’s thirsty.”

Celine stretches out a hand. “I could use some of that right now!”

As she drinks, Griffin hunkers down near me, watching her with an intentness I don’t understand. I wait for him to make a comment to explain his attention, but he doesn’t say anything, even after Celine passes the jug on to Ajax.

After a moment, he reaches into his old backpack and guides out the white cat and a tin of cat food he must have snatched up when he grabbed her. He peels back the lid, and Lua sniffs it tentatively before taking some cautious bites.

I’ve been drinking regularly along the trek, so my throat isn’t too parched, but my skin feels uncomfortably grimy. I push to my feet with a quick glance around at my guys. “I’m going to wash up a little before I try and sleep.”

It only takes a minute to walk the last short distance to the waterfall and its winding stream. The hillside there is rockier but still has clumps of soil clinging in pockets.

I can see why the guys hesitated to trust the water washing over those rocks for ingestion. But to splash it on my face shouldn’t be a big deal.

I dampen not just my face but my neck as well, then swipe under my armpits for good measure. As I give my hands a final rinse, the brush rustles behind me.

When I glance over my shoulder, I find Griffin emerging onto the rocky bank next to me. Not who I would have expected.

My stomach shifts with a hitch of uneasiness. It feels wrong to be this wary around the one guy I once trusted more than anyone in the world… but completely necessary at the same time.

“Hey,” I say in a low voice, adjusting my weight to stand. “The stream’s all yours.”

Griffin catches my wrist before I can rise more than a few inches, his grip firm but careful. “I didn’t come for the water. I wanted to talk to you.”

I settle back into my crouch, studying his face in the dimness. As usual, I can’t read his intentions in it—but for once he does actually look concerned, if only vaguely. “What about?”

Griffin glances at the ground and then back at me, leaving his fingers curled gently around my wrist. “I’m sorry.

For getting you caught, in the facility, before—I need to apologize to everyone for that—but especially for trying to tell you that you should still work with Clancy.

For not realizing what he was doing when he had us meet up. ”

The words are right, but I don’t hear any anguish in them.

I frown. “Are you saying that because you really mean it or because you know I’d want you to be sorry?”

“I mean it. I just—” He sucks in a breath, and his mouth tightens. His thumb glides over the underside of my wrist, sending a tingle shooting up my arm.

“I don’t feel very much,” he says, low and even.

“I pick up on what others do, but inside myself … I haven’t felt anything in years.

The guardians decided I was too affected by the emotions I absorbed, it was a liability, and they decided to fix that problem.

And for a while, I thought I was better off that way too. ”

My throat constricts. “Feeling nothing could never be better. What did they do?”

Griffin shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter. The point is… I do feel something, when we’re touching. I don’t know why, but the contact seems to wake up something they didn’t totally suppress.”

He traces the fragile bones of my wrist again, setting off a more heated tingle. A flush courses over my skin.

“You pulled away from me, before,” I point out, remembering our conversation in the training room.

Griffin’s fingers go still. “I—I wasn’t sure if it was a good thing. It’s been a long time. I’ve gotten used to having my head clear.”

He pauses. “But I don’t know if it ever really was clear. I was missing something all along. I’m starting to think I can’t actually make the right decisions if I don’t have any emotional reactions to guide me along with pure information.”

I swallow thickly. “I think everyone needs both.”

“I have to find a good balance. I can’t let—I still need to be careful.” He knits his brow. Then he strokes his hand right up my arm from wrist to elbow, provoking a full-out flare of heat.

When Griffin meets my eyes again, I catch a flicker of longing there. A clearer emotion than anything I’ve seen in him since we reunited.

“I’m not going to ask for anything from you,” he says. “You’re upset with me and confused, and that makes sense. But every time we touch, I feel a little closer to where I need to be. So… if you want to—to hold my hand, or sit close to me, or anything like that, I hope you will.”

Sudden tears prick at the back of my eyes. I am upset and confused, but I can also hear the boy I loved so much in his halting admission.

Griffin has been just as much a victim of the guardians’ schemes as the rest of us. Maybe more so, if they somehow managed to sear every feeling out of the guy who was once the most compassionate person I’ve ever encountered.

Part of me balks, but not enough to override the urge to lean toward him right now—to wrap my arms around his slender but toned shoulders and hug him hard.

Griffin lets out a shaky breath and hugs me back, his bare forearm resting against my neck, his hand skimming the band of skin where my tee has ridden up at my waist. Keeping that bodily contact in place.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers again, and this time I feel it as well as hear it.

I rest my head against his, absorbing the rhythm of his breath and the warmth of his body. “The people who really should be sorry never will be. So we just have to make sure they can’t hurt any of us ever again.”

“Yeah.” His breath tickles against my ear. His arms squeeze me a little tighter. “Ever since the other day with the throwing knives… I’ve been dreaming about the night we broke out. The moment when you kissed me.”

I wince inwardly. “When they shot you. That must be an awful memory.”

“No. It’s not. I wish everything after had gone differently, but the pain I went through is nothing compared to the joy before. Right then—that’s the best I’ve ever felt in my life. And for years, I never even thought about it. They took it away from me.”

My threatening tears rush back with a vengeance. I’m too choked up to speak.

My hand rises of its own accord to Griffin’s jaw. Nothing could feel more right than tilting my head so I can brush my lips against his.

The kiss stays butterfly-soft. Griffin barely seems to breathe, but a tremor runs through his body as he kisses me back so tenderly I want to melt right into his arms.

But I don’t know if I trust him quite that completely just yet.

And before I can decide either way, he eases back and turns his head. I follow his gaze.

Jacob is standing between the trees just a few steps from the waterfall. Watching us with eyes so stormy I can make out the turmoil in them despite the darkness.

Griffin releases me from his embrace as we get up. He offers his brother a lopsided smile.

“I’m not trying to get between you—any of you—and Riva. If she had to choose right now, she wouldn’t pick me anyway.”

He’s probably right about that, but the comments Jake’s made in the past—about knowing he had to stand back so his brother could be happy with me, about believing that I’d rather he’d died instead of Griffin—form a lump in my gut.

“Jake,” I start, not sure exactly what I’m going to say. We found a peace with each other in the past few weeks, but it suddenly feels so tenuous.

Jacob breaks in before I can get any farther. “It’s fine. I only came to make sure you’re okay. I’m going to take one of the first watches. Everyone who’s going to sleep should stick together.”

I nod. “We’ll head right back.”

Griffin strides ahead of me through the trees on our way back to the campsite, not touching me at all, but Jacob’s gaze trails after us with a prickling sensation down my spine.