Page 16 of Shadowblood Souls: The Complete Series

Ten

Riva

I stare through the moonlight at the waterfall tumbling fifty feet down the narrow cliff in front of me. “Oh, hell, no.”

Jacob folds his arms over his chest, fixing me with a hard look. “Backing down already?”

I sigh. “No.” Just extremely displeased with where my life has taken me.

Thankfully, Andreas insisted on coming along for the drive out into the wilderness too, and he balances out Jacob’s harshness a little. He steps closer and gives the tip of my braid a gentle tug.

“I know you don’t love the water, Tink, but you’ve got this. You’ll be in and out in no time.”

The warm confidence in his voice along with the old nickname—and the fact that he’s showing any faith in me at all after the way the past few days have gone—steadies my nerves.

I don’t actually mind water in general. Showers are fine. I can enjoy a quick dip in a warm swimming pool.

But immersing myself in the stuff sets my nerves on edge… possibly because of the same part of me that produces the claws from my fingertips and the pointed tufts of fur on my ears when I really give myself over to my animalistic side.

There’s a reason Jacob used to call me “Wildcat.”

And the faint spray lacing the air has already told me that this water is going to be cold. My skin is recoiling from it as if it thinks it can peel right off my body and avoid the whole production.

I square my shoulders and flex my fingers, feeling my strength. There’s no running away from this expedition. It’s the one thing Andreas’s hacker wanted in return for his help—because there isn’t much a hacker that good can’t get on his own.

Right before we drove out here, Jacob let Dominic heal me. I can only feel the slightest prickles of the poison still coursing through my veins. But now he’s watching me with a hint of a sneer.

I think he wants me to refuse so he’ll have even more reason to question my loyalty.

No fucking way.

I point my index finger at him with a claw already extended.

“I’m doing this even though I don’t even think we should be bothering with this Ursula woman, because I know she’s important to you and the other guys.

And the four of you are important to me.

That’s the only reason I’m doing it. So keep that in mind instead of whatever snarky thoughts you’d usually be thinking while I’m getting myself chilled to the bone going up there. ”

Jacob blinks with a twitch of his eyelids as if he’s trying to hide that he’s startled. Then his mouth presses into a flat line.

Before he can let out yet another of those snarky thoughts, I stalk away from him toward the cliff.

Standing on the rocky bank several feet from where the water hits the shallow pond beneath, I study my target. It’s a pretty ridiculous setup all around.

Some rich asshole our new hacker associate has a problem with built an off-the-grid cottage at the very top of this tall, slim plateau. I hate to think how much energy the prick is wasting pumping water the fifty feet up to the top only to have it spill back down again all around the house.

Apparently the only regular way in and out of the residence is by helicopter—if you can call that “regular.” But he’s never met a gal with superhuman strength and steely claws before.

The lights are off in the cottage. The hacker was able to tell us that his nemesis had a business trip keeping him away all night.

I don’t need to see where I’m going, though. It’s a simple matter of climbing straight up—and not falling.

Easy peasy.

I tug on the water shoes that are one piece of special equipment we bought for this endeavor and wade through the waist-deep pond in my leggings and long-sleeved tee, both black to blend into the night. The liquid chill bites into my legs.

The faster I pull this off, the sooner I can get out of it.

As I push right under the waterfall, I can’t restrain a cringe at the tumbling water pummeling my hair. But there’s a small gap between the flow of the falls and the rocky wall of the cliff, at least this far down.

I press myself into that water-free gap, swipe strands of drenched hair back from my face, reach up to hook my clawed fingers into the highest crevices I can reach, and haul myself upward.

The first half of the climb isn’t so bad, as horrible pastimes go.

My shoulders start to ache with the strain of hauling my weight upward, but I’m catching on enough nooks and crannies with my toes in their flexible footwear that I can propel myself up quickly and not rely on my arms for everything.

But the gap between the cliff and the waterfall narrows. First, it’s just little streams hitting the back of my head here and there. Then, a continuous current gushes over my hair and down the back of my shirt.

I can’t even shiver with the cold, or I might lose my grasp on the slick stone.

Gritting my teeth, I heave myself upward as quickly as I can without getting careless. Stretch a little farther. Reach a little higher.

Silently cuss out Jacob for deciding I should do this when Zian probably could have made the climb just as easily. More easily, really, since he’s got no poison at all nibbling away at his muscles.

I’m one hundred percent sure Jacob’s choice wasn’t only because I might have an easier time sneaking into the actual building with my smaller frame.

Eventually, he’s going to have to see that I’m completely on their side. There won’t be any way he can deny it with that logical brain of his.

The worst section is the last ten or so feet right beneath the plateau. I have to grip the rocky ridges so tightly my fingers throb, digging my claws right into the limestone. My head stays bowed to the full deluge of water rushing over me.

Just a little farther. Just keep moving…

With my next reach, my hand finds no more stone surface above me. I grope forward and touch the flat plane where the waterfall originates. With a gasp of relief in my throat, I throw myself through the roaring current, clambering all the way to a wooden deck that juts from the building ahead of me.

I haul myself out of the water and lie there on the buffed boards for a couple of minutes, catching my breath and letting my muscles recover. And also shedding the buckets of water that soaked into my hair and clothes. Then I stand up and wring even more moisture out of my shirt and leggings.

I slip off my water shoes and leave them on the deck. The “cottage” looms over me, a two-story structure that appears to be almost entirely glossy windows, framed here and there by dark wood.

How much money would you need in your accounts to feel comfortable throwing however many tens of millions it took to build and maintain this place?

But that’s not my business. I’m just here to grab what I came for and go.

I slip around the house, searching for the entrance. The owner values his privacy—the only security cameras I spot are set up around the helipad at the far end of the deck area.

An alarm system wouldn’t do him any good when he’s disconnected this estate from the rest of society.

His mistake was assuming no one could possibly reach the place except by air.

The door isn’t even locked. I stifle a laugh at the arrogance of that decision and ease inside.

Mr. Rich Dude also keeps the heat running even when he’s not home. But I won’t mock him too much for that, even in my head, because I appreciate the warmer air closing in around me and taking the edge off the clamminess of my damp clothes.

I take in the huge modern living room with its vaulted ceiling and leather furniture, every surface gleaming in the moonlight that seeps through the windows like it’s all been recently polished—including the leather.

A faintly smoky herbal scent lingers in the air, suggesting that the guy’s been burning incense to set the mood.

Forget hackers and former facility bosses and all that. Why couldn’t the five of us have a place like this away from the rest of the world?

Other than the fact that we don’t have a billion dollars lying around, I mean. But I’d be happy with something several steps down on the fancy scale.

There’s no way to argue with the guys about that right now, so I slink on through the expansive, airy rooms until I find the office.

At least, I assume it’s the owner’s office because there’s a glass desk with two computer monitors and various other technological paraphernalia set up at one end. The rest of the space looks like a toy museum.

This is the only room I’ve encountered with no windows other than a couple of large skylights overhead.

In the moonlight that seeps through the glass, dolls, action figures, and character statues stand poised along the built-in shelves that fill three of the four walls.

Behind the desk, the one shelf-less wall holds several framed cards from what I assume must be specialized games, colorful art on the upper half and playing instructions on the lower.

This is where I need to be. But I’m looking for one item in particular…

I step closer to scan the shelves in the dim light. My gaze snags on a figure about eight inches tall, dressed in a purple suit with a black cape and gold detailing, still in its retail box.

Apparently this toy is super rare. Our hacker and Mr. Rich Dude used to be roommates once upon a time, and Rich Dude stole the collectable when he moved out.

And our hacker decided it was perfectly reasonable to send a bunch of strangers on a nearly impossible stealth mission to retrieve it.

I roll my eyes at the absurdity of the situation and pull out the watertight bags I kept under my shirt for the climb up. The action figure box slides into one well enough that I can seal the opening without a problem.

I tuck it inside the second bag for good measure, and then jam all that into a nylon backpack that’s probably not at all waterproof. All it needs to do is make sure my cargo comes with me down the cliff.

Once I’ve slung the backpack over my shoulders, I tug the straps tight and secure the clip between them over my chest to make it extra secure. Then I hustle back to the front door, soaking up a little more warmth before I have to face the unpleasant scramble down.

I open the door—and halt in my tracks at the growl of an engine that’s suddenly audible from overhead.

A helicopter is descending fast, the rhythmic whir of its blades already reaching my ears. Its lights cast thin but widening streaks across the landing platform just a few steps from where I’m frozen.

Fucking rich pricks and their way-too-insulated walls. Fucking hacker who was way too confident about the rich prick’s schedule.

Every second I hesitate is another second closer to getting caught. I don’t think I want to find out how Mr. Rich Dude would handle an intruder.

Hugging the outer walls, I dash around the house until I’m on the opposite side from the helicopter. I plunge into the rushing water beneath the deck and rush with it to the edge of the cliff.