Page 172 of Shadowblood Souls: The Complete Series

Five

Riva

I peer into the fridge for several seconds before stirring myself into action. Sliced ham, cheese, mayonnaise. That’ll make a decent sandwich.

Balthazar’s villa might be fancy to look at, but we had better meal service on the island. Here, he’s simply left us with a bunch of groceries, and it’s up to us to put them together into breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

I guess he didn’t want any more staff than necessary who could become potential targets of our talents. But what do he and the staff who are here eat?

Maybe there’s a whole second kitchen in the western wing, and they’re dining like kings over there.

I will admit the fresh loaves of bread that appear every morning are pretty nice, as bread goes.

Zian steps up to the cutting board as I turn, so close the warmth of his body tingles over my skin even though he’s carefully not touching me. He holds out his hand, his tone light. “Pass it over, Shrimp. I can slice it.”

The intensity in his dark eyes suggests the offer means a lot more to him than saving me a few seconds of work. Zee is always trying to show how much he wants to be here for me in all the ways he feels he safely can.

So I give him a soft smile in return and hand over the loaf.

While Zian hacks off a few slices, I open up the packages of ham and cheese and get out a butter knife to spread the mayo. We assemble our sandwiches with swift movements that are almost synchronized.

I’m just raising mine to my lips when Booker’s voice carries down the hall outside with an urgent tremor. “Riva?”

My hands jerk to a halt in mid-air, and Zian freezes next to me. I was just outside with Booker and Nadia—I told them I was coming in to grab some food.

What could have happened in the few minutes I was gone?

I drop the sandwich onto the plate and hustle into the hall with Zian right behind me. Booker hurries over, his gaze twitching nervously toward the rooms around us.

“What happened?” I ask as he reaches me, pitching my voice low with the instinctive sense that if he’s this upset, it’s probably something we don’t want to be obvious about discussing.

He rakes his hand through his shaggy hair and motions toward the end of the hall.

“We saw something… Nadia and I found a loose tile behind one of the planters and were crouched down checking under it—it was nothing but dirt. But we were ducked low enough that he probably didn’t see us …

I’d think I’m crazy if Nadia hadn’t noticed it too. ”

I raise my eyebrows at him. “ What ?”

Booker takes a deep breath as if to steady himself.

“There was a man—short and kind of round—shorter than you even, I think. I glanced over the planter and saw him standing on the patio, looking out over the mountains. And then after a moment, he started to turn around and just vanished . Disappeared in thin air.”

My pulse stutters, and Zian and I exchange a look. We’ve seen people do that before—well, they weren’t exactly people.

I motion for Booker to head down the hall with me. “He could have been a shadowkind. They can disappear into the shadows if they want to. Show us where you saw him.”

The description he gave doesn’t sound like any of the shadowkind I’ve met, but Rollick—the demon who gave us the most help while we were on the run—had tons of beings he worked with. Could he have figured out where we are and sent someone with a message or an offer of aid?

Cautious hope sets my heart thumping faster.

Zian and I follow Booker out into the grounds. I cross my arms over my chest as the chill of the air seeps through my long-sleeved tee.

Nadia is standing by the planter where I assume Booker left her. He motions to a clear area between a few potted shrubs near the wall at the back of the house.

“He was standing right there, just a few feet from the wall. Then he turned toward the house.”

I walk across the tiles there, glancing around. From what I understand, shadowkind can still watch and listen when they merge into the shadows.

If this one came looking for me and my friends, he could still be here. Maybe he’ll show himself at my arrival.

Zian prowls after me, casting his gaze around. I catch a ruddy glint as his X-ray vision activates.

No one emerges. Booker frowns, shifting his weight restlessly.

“He might not want to show himself again out in the open like this,” I suggest after a minute. “Why don’t we wait where you were hidden before and see if he makes an appearance then?”

As we crouch down by the planter, Nadia scoots closer to me. “It was so creepy. Booker told you how he just blinked away like he was nothing?”

I nod. “All shadowkind have that power.”

“If it really was a shadowkind,” Zian puts in. “You’re sure he was older than any of us? Maybe Balthazar brought in a new shadowblood who can turn invisible—Andreas might not be the only one with that ability.”

Booker shakes his head. “I’d have thought he was at least thirty.”

“What do you think he’d have wanted?” Nadia asks me and Zian.

I frown, peering around us and then back toward the section of patio Booker indicated. “I have no idea.”

As the last word leaves my lips, a plump figure just as Booker described him wavers into view—right at the wall this time, fleshy hands resting on the upper stones, head tipped to the breeze that whips up the cliffside.

The wind ruffles his hair, which is chestnut with an odd purple sheen, and tugs at the forest-green suit that covers his portly body.

He’s got to be a shadowkind. I’ve seen several of them materialize from the shadows just like that.

He still doesn’t seem aware of our presence. Is he waiting for someone to approach him ?

I take a gamble and push myself upright.

“Hey,” I say tentatively as I step around the planter. “Do you?—”

That’s all I’ve gotten out by the time the shadowkind man whirls toward me, drops his jaw in surprise, and wisps away into the shadows again.

My voice dies in my throat. I scan the patio. “I wasn’t going to accuse you of anything. I just wanted to talk. I know you can still hear me.”

I pause and then try again. “Would you please just?—”

The clearing of a throat cuts me off. I spin around to find Toni stalking across the patio toward me.

She jerks her hand in a beckoning gesture. “Leave that alone. Balthazar wants to see you.”

I stare at her. “What—you knew there was a shadowkind here?”

Toni gazes back at me with her usual implacable expression, not a strand on her sleek black bob out of place. “I said to leave the monster alone. Are you coming?”

My stomach sinks. She doesn’t look remotely concerned about the potential intrusion, even though she called him a monster. She’s more worried about protecting the shadowkind man from my questions.

What the hell is going on?

Zian steps forward, his shoulders flexing. “If Riva’s going, then I am too.”

He’s massive enough that he looms half a foot over her substantial height, but Toni shows no sign of being intimidated. “He only asked to speak to Riva. You can stay here awake, or we can sedate you. It’s your choice.”

Zian’s posture stiffens. I set a careful hand on his arm in the briefest of reassuring gestures. “It’s okay. I can handle talking to him.”

I’m not going to admit how much I’d rather have Zee by my side while I did, not in front of Balthazar’s lackey.

When Toni gestures toward the house again, impatiently now, I shoot Booker and Nadia an apologetic glance and follow her. Maybe Balthazar will have more answers for me than his employee was willing to offer.

She leads me back to the drawing room where Dominic lies in his eerily still slumber. My feet drag for a moment on the mosaic floor while my gaze lingers on him, my stomach twisting tighter.

Toni nudges me on toward the table that’s already lifted to reveal the TV screen. She must make some signal I can’t see, or maybe Balthazar is watching from a camera, because the moment I’ve come to a stop in front of the TV, his image blinks onto it.

“Riva,” he says without preamble, fixing his predatory gaze on me. “I have a few questions for you.”

My skin twitches with discomfort. “I have a few for you too. Why is there a shadowkind man hanging out around your house? Or a monster, if you call him that?”

Balthazar’s expression turns baleful. “I see no reason to justify the type of people I employ to you. But it is?—”

“It matters,” I break in, glowering at him. “I thought the guardians wanted to slaughter all the ‘monsters.’ Isn’t that the whole reason you made us?”

For a moment, Balthazar simply blinks at me—slowly, as if sizing me up for dinner. “I’ve told you already, I have no current association with the Guardianship. But I want to hear about one of their founders. You and your friends broke into Ursula Engel’s house.”

My hands ball at my sides, but it’s obvious he isn’t going to say more about the shadowkind man. He did confirm that he considers him an employee, though.

It doesn’t make any sense.

I keep my answer short, because he obviously already knows and I see no reason to give him unnecessary details. “We did.”

“I believe you left her home with at least a few items that belonged to her.”

I gaze steadily back at him, unspeaking. If he wants an answer from me, he can ask a fucking question.

Balthazar shakes back his graying mane without breaking eye contact. “What happened to Engel’s computer?”

Her laptop? My mind darts automatically through the memories of the first few days after the bloodbath at her house—the first time my guys saw my full powers in action.

We never found anything all that interesting on the computer. Hints about the later generations of shadowbloods, yes, but few definite facts.

Of course, a lot of the data was transcribed in a code none of us knew how to break.

“I don’t know,” I say honestly.

Balthazar’s mouth tenses with a scowl. “Did you dispose of it somewhere?”