Page 179 of Shadowblood Souls: The Complete Series

Ten

Jacob

M atteo adjusts the target with a press of a button behind the transparent wall of his booth. The ringed circle mounted on its wooden board shifts to the left and rotates several degrees.

“All right,” he says in his obnoxiously pedantic voice. “Let’s see what kind of impact you can achieve with that.”

I grit my teeth and flex my forearm against the arm of the chair, focusing on my awareness of the spines I can form beneath my skin. A prickle runs through my nerves all the way up to my shoulder.

When those toxic spikes first emerged from the side of my arm during the guardians’ tests a couple of years ago, I thought they were permanent. Attached to my bones somehow, extending and contracting like Riva and Zian can with their claws.

It turns out they’re more mobile than that. A couple of weeks ago on our last mission for Clancy, I shot them straight out of my arm into a man who was about to open fire on Riva.

I haven’t mentioned that to Matteo. He believes that his special “procedures” have opened up this new dimension to my supernatural skills.

So he’s been prodding me over and over since he first discovered the change, checking how far and how forcefully I can expel them, how quickly my body can produce new ones, and how accurately I can aim them.

And I can’t pretend weakness or ineptitude, because the shitty chemical he always injects at the start of these sessions makes me nauseatingly compliant.

After trying to resist and failing every time during my first couple of sessions, I’ve achieved some kind of inner peace. I’ll accept that I can’t resist… and focus on gathering all the information I can about my own abilities.

Because Lord knows I’m looking forward to the day I can spear the man on the other side of that thick window with my poison quills.

I fix my gaze on the target and apply the mental pressure that I’ve learned primes my spines. The first time I launched them, it was all protective instinct.

Now I know how to control the firing. I adjust the angle of my arm and give a push that’s a combination of will and muscle.

The row of spines pierces my skin and hurtles into the target. One only skims the edge and taps against the wall, but the others thud deep into its wooden surface.

I grimace at the minor error, but behind the pane, Matteo is smiling. “Now use your telekinesis to pry them out and fling them in opposite directions. Half to the left and half to the right.”

As I automatically obey with no real say in the matter, a clammy sensation wraps around my gut.

Part of me is proud of the strides I’ve made under my unwanted teacher’s watchful gaze. I’ve honed not just my skill with the spines but the invisible force I can inflict on the world too.

But I’m not totally sure it’s a good thing that those powers are growing even more.

Before, it’d have been a strain to fling multiple objects in opposing directions simultaneously. Now, my talent clamps around the spines and flicks them away from each other without wavering.

Less than two weeks ago, I hesitated to heft Riva through a second-floor window. Now, I suspect I could propel her or any of the guys across a distance like that without any fear of missing my mark.

Not long before that, I shook an entire mountainside with Dominic’s help, feeding me strength. Now… I might be able to rattle the entire plateau Balthazar’s villa is perched on all by myself.

Which would be fantastic if I could count on only applying that strength when I want to. But my temper still has at least as much control over my talent as my rational mind does.

I’ve broken things I didn’t mean to before. I don’t like the idea that I could screw up even worse.

Because there are definitely no shortage of things pissing me off in our current situation.

And I still couldn’t save Sully when he was bleeding out. Couldn’t figure out how to apply constant pressure to every place he needed it without loosening my grip somewhere else.

Funny how Matteo never wants to teach me about fixing things rather than attacking them.

After a few more exercises, the mellowing effect of Matteo’s drug starts to fade. He taps some notes into his computer and then pushes a button that releases the clamps around my ankles. “Good session. You can go now.”

He doesn’t even look my way as he dismisses me. My hands clench—and the target cracks down the middle before I can catch the flare of anger.

Shit.

With shame quivering through my fury, I stride out of the room before I have to hear what Matteo will say about that slip when he notices.

The worst part about my unsteady self-control is that I could screw us over even if I only damage our enemies. If my power strikes out at anything or anyone Balthazar values, will he tear open another shadowblood’s arteries and leave them to die drenched in their own blood?

The image of Sully’s shaking, crimson splattered body flashes through my mind. I walk even faster back to the hall where we have our rooms as if I can outrun it.

Riva is there. The one supernatural ability I’m one hundred percent on board with is the fact that I can pinpoint her location through the tingling of the mark on my sternum.

She’s nearby. She’s okay.

The knowledge flows through me on repeat with every thump of my pulse, taking the slightest edge off my frustration.

As I get closer, a less welcome sensation quivers through our bond. A jitter of agitation, like a scalding needle stinging me.

I push myself to a jog and reach the row of bedrooms just as Riva steps out of one. Her bright brown eyes shine with a cold glint I’m not used to.

“Here.” She tosses a towel at me that I snatch out of the air automatically. “We’re going swimming.”

Tension winds through her limbs and the sharpened planes of her face. As I grip the towel, something tightens in my chest in response. “What? Why?”

Our friends are emerging from their own rooms to join us, looking like Riva has already informed them of this plan. She flicks her errant braid back over her shoulder and skims her fingers down her arm nearly to the silver manacle circling her wrist. “I think taking a dip could help us relax.”

It’s not hard to catch on. I should have thought of this myself.

We’re still not sure how much information Balthazar’s manacles are picking up. If he and his staff are recording audio through them, immersing them in water will cut that function off.

We’ll be able to talk more freely, just this once.

It’s a good plan, but as I turn to walk with Riva to one of the outer doors, the uneasy ache remains inside me.

Since Sully died yesterday, she’s been so keyed up. She hasn’t exactly done anything, but I can taste how furious she is as easily as breathing.

For the first time since we cleared up the misunderstandings between us, I’m really not sure what lengths she might go to. And I know she’s capable of an awful lot.

I don’t have even a flicker of fear that she might hurt me or any of the other shadowbloods. I’m not so sure about hurting herself by pushing too far.

My gaze veers to my brother, just ahead of me in the hall. Griffin hasn’t commented on anything he’s noticed about Riva’s emotional state.

But then, he probably wouldn’t want to point it out when Balthazar could be taking notes.

He could calm her down if he used that part of his talent on her—but for how long? She’d be twice as pissed off once she realized.

And she could end up too complacent to defend herself when she needs to. No, that would definitely not be the right tactic.

Maybe my twin will come up with some other brainstorm, with all his emotional expertise. He’s… he’s been good for her, now that he’s more like himself.

I always knew he would be.

We step past the doorway and head across the patio to the pool with its warmed water. Riva marches right to the edge and starts stripping down to her bra and panties with brisk, jerky movements.

I glance over at Andreas and catch a matching worry in the slant of his mouth as our gazes meet. This isn’t what we’re used to from the woman we love.

Has that fucker Balthazar pushed her over some edge already? How the hell are we going to drag her back from it?

My own anger ripples through me again. My power whips out—and I just snatch it back, an instant from battering one of the nearby planters.

My next breath shudders through me, thick with frustration… and guilt.

I can recognize the unnerving potential of Riva’s rage because it’s such a familiar emotion for me. Fuck, is this how my friends have felt the whole past four years, while I stewed and seethed over the murder and betrayal that never actually happened?

I’ve been there. I should know how to talk her down, not be sitting around hoping Griffin can handle it.

I don’t want to be a volatile presence in her life, like a volcano constantly on the verge of erupting. I want to be a steady force she can count on.

But I’ve never fully gotten my own vicious impulses under control. How can I rein her fury in when I barely know how to do it with my own?

Those questions tangle in my gut as I peel off most of my own clothes. Balthazar didn’t give us swimsuits, but boxers work just as well.

The chilly fall air washes over my bare skin, and then I’m sliding into the water. Its warmth closes around me with more relief than I’d like to feel while enjoying this bastard’s property.

I stick close to Riva, wanting her within reach even if I’m not really sure how to hold on to her right now. The other shadowbloods slip into the water around us.

A fresh pang of horror jolts through me as I take in the younger ones. There were five kids with us when we first woke up here. Now we’re down to three.

Booker stays next to Nadia, his arm hooked around hers, his usually easy-going expression hardened. I haven’t seen him leave her side since she got back from her session with Matteo yesterday.

He’s got to know that if she’d been with us when we confronted the shadowkind man out here, chances are Balthazar would have had her killed instead of Sully. She was the one he marked as expendable from the start.

Apparently our captor decided Sully was expendable enough. It wouldn’t have been as much of a punishment if the slaughter hadn’t happened right in front of us.

I sink into the water up to my shoulders, holding my wrists well under the surface. The others are doing the same.

Riva motions us closer with a twitch of her chin. The pool is shallow enough at this end that even she can stand on the bottom, if on tiptoe, rather than treading water.

We gather in a huddle as if seeking more warmth from each other, away from the edges of the pool where other surveillance devices could be hidden.

Riva drops her voice to a whisper. Even that quiet, a thread of agitation thrums through it.

“I need to know everything you’ve all learned about Balthazar and this villa. Even if it didn’t seem important at the time. There has to be a way to get to him.”

Zian’s forehead furrows. “What are you planning to do, Shrimp?” he asks, just as softly. He can’t manage to give the playful nickname any amusement.

Riva shrugs. “It doesn’t matter yet. I just want to know what we’re working with. Let’s go, one by one, every little detail you can think of.”

As she turns to Booker at her left, his arm still locked around Nadia, my stomach sinks. She says it doesn’t matter, but I can tell she’s already got a goal in mind.

If her rage is even slightly like mine, she wants to destroy this place and everyone in it. Especially the man who brought us here.

But how much of the woman I adore will she sacrifice to reach her goal?