Page 180 of Shadowblood Souls: The Complete Series

Eleven

Riva

I can’t sit still, even though I have no sense of direction right now. My hatred for our beautiful prison and the man who’s keeping us here burns through my veins, gnawing at me to do something .

I stalk through the villa’s hallways in the fading evening light, my claws arcing from my fingertips. The urge grips me to scratch at the delicate frescos decorating the walls, but I hold myself back.

The building itself hasn’t hurt me. Destroying it won’t do anything but ruin the only things that are appealing in this place.

For all I know, Balthazar won’t even care. I have no idea why he picked this place to hold us or how much it means to him—or doesn’t.

Maybe it was simply the first building he could find with plenty of rooms and isolation from the rest of society.

He definitely doesn’t seem bothered about spilling blood all over the tiled artwork of the floors.

The memories of Lindsay’s and Sully’s deaths make my clawed fingers flex. Tufts of fur shoot from the shifting tips of my ears as my full morph takes over.

I wish I could transform into an actual cat and slip through all the spaces I can’t as a human being. Shake off these stupid manacles.

I prowl all the way to the front door and glare across the courtyard at the drawbridge I’ve only seen raised. Not that we could reach it even lowered, as Sully demonstrated on our first day.

As I spin on my heel to stalk back the way I came, Nadia ventures into the hall, coming toward me. Dark circles mark her smooth brown skin beneath her eyes, and her once spunky pixie cut droops in limp waves.

She catches my eyes, tucking her hands a little deeper in the baggy sweater she’s got on. It’s a deep navy blue, striking on her but with completely the wrong vibe.

She’s meant to be in neons. Balthazar hasn’t bothered to think about our clothing preferences.

It’s a silly thing to criticize him for, but hell, even Clancy made that basic gesture toward earning our loyalty.

Our new captor hasn’t considered loyalty. He wants our spirits crushed into total obedience.

“Hey,” Nadia says. “I was thinking it might be nice to hang out a bit, listen to one of those records in your room?”

I don’t know if I can do anything that would help her, but it’s better than striding aimlessly around the villa. “Of course.”

She stays silent as we walk up to my bedroom. I pick out a record at random from the small stash Andreas brought me and fiddle with the controls until I get it playing, a process I’m still teaching myself.

The bouncy beats of an old pop song crackle out into the air, a sharp contrast with the atmosphere in the room. At another time, in another place, it’d have made me want to dance.

Now it only reminds me of how far I am from being able to enjoy music the way I used to.

Nadia sinks down on the edge of my bed, close to the vanity where I have the player set up. She pats the spot next to her, so I sit there.

As I settle myself, she lifts her arms and emphasizes the tug of her sleeves over her hands. Over her bracelets—hoping to muffle them?

Catching on, I adjust my own sleeves and tuck my hands into the kangaroo pocket of my hoodie to add an extra layer of fabric. This must be why she wanted the music too—to cover our conversation.

Nadia offers a tight smile. She tilts her head close to mine, speaking quietly as an extra precaution. “I think I saw something you might want to check out.”

I nod to show I’m listening.

She tips her head farther, indicating the back end of the villa.

“I was taking a walk outside with Booker a little while ago, and around the back, close to the western wing, I noticed a window. Second floor, small and square. Definitely haven’t seen it in any rooms we’ve had access to from the inside. ”

I sort back through my memories. “I haven’t seen one like that either.” Most of the villa’s windows are tall and arched.

“So it must be a room we couldn’t normally get into,” Nadia goes on. “Stuff they’re keeping hidden. And someone moved past the window while I was looking at it, so they’re up to something in there too.”

She pauses, adjusting her sleeves again. “The other thing is, at least when I saw the window, they’d left it a little bit open, so it can’t be locked. I’m not sure how to get up there, but it’s small enough that I don’t think anyone could fit through the frame except you or maybe Ajax.”

I look down at my hands, bulges in my pocket. I can climb—I’ve scaled the outside of buildings before.

A tremor of anticipation races through my nerves. “Thank you. I’ll see what I can make of it tonight.”

Nadia sighs as if relieved to have gotten the information out unscathed and straightens up again. But her shoulders stay a bit slumped, her expression still weary.

My throat tightens as I take those details in. “How are you holding up?”

She rubs her mouth and shakes herself, but the strain doesn’t leave her face.

“Hanging in there. Honestly, I’m more worried about Booker than me right now.

Matteo interrupted our walk to bring him to a session, and he didn’t want to leave me.

I think he might have tried to fight the guy if I hadn’t gotten through to him how much I didn’t want that. ”

After seeing how determinedly Booker has been sticking by Nadia’s side since Sully’s death, I’m not surprised. But she’s right—it wouldn’t have ended well for him.

“He cares about you a lot,” I say.

Nadia’s mouth twists. “Yeah. Maybe too much. Everyone knows I’m useless. The procedures aren’t doing anything—I still just glow .”

The anguish in her voice sets off a fresh flare of my anger. “You’re not useless .” And fuck Balthazar for making her think that way.

Nadia raises her head to meet my gaze again, unflinching. “That’s the whole reason I’m here. Like a fucking hostage. A damsel in distress.” She lets out a rough laugh.

I shake my head vehemently. “No. That’s how the psychopath who stuck us here sees it, but he doesn’t know anything. All it means is he doesn’t see a way to use you for whatever exactly he wants to do. If he was trying to explore dark places, you’d be the only one who matters.”

Nadia sounds as if she’s choked on a more genuine giggle. “Okay, I guess that’s true.”

I turn toward her, drawing my legs up on the bed.

“And—if there’s one thing I figured out on the island, it’s that we shouldn’t have to use our powers.

We didn’t ask the guardians to make us this way, and we don’t owe them or anyone else anything.

We’re still people. We shouldn’t have to be useful to deserve our lives.

If you weren’t a shadowblood, no one would expect that. ”

The song peters out, and there’s a faint hiss before the next one starts.

Nadia lowers her gaze again. “But we are shadowbloods. That’s just how it is.”

My hands clench. I want to tear apart the people who made her feel this way.

Of course, it’s possible I already have.

Just not enough of them, clearly.

“We’re people too,” I insist. “We’re people first . No matter what the guardians or anyone else see. I see a whole lot more than your power to glow.”

Nadia is silent for a moment. “What does it matter if we never get the chance to be more?”

The impatient fury churns in my gut with a searing ache. “We will.”

I swallow thickly and grope for something to say that might make her feel better in the moment. “What would you want to do in a normal life, as a normal seventeen-year-old?”

I asked that question to a few of the other younger shadowbloods back on the island. Like them, Nadia hesitates, looking almost confused by the idea.

But as she thinks about it, a light comes into her face that wasn’t there before. Enough to soothe the sharpest edges of my rage.

She tips her head back, her eyes hazy with her daydream.

“It probably sounds silly, but I kind of want to go to a real school. Experience all the drama and stuff… I mean, it’s probably hardly anything like the TV shows and movies.

But still. Getting to know all those people.

Learning normal stuff. Different outfits every day, hanging out after class without anyone shoving you in a cell or hauling you off to training. ”

The corner of my mouth curls upward. “Yeah, that could be fun.”

Nadia fidgets with the hem of her sweater before going on. “I also always liked the cop shows. You know, when there’d be a woman in uniform tracking down the crooks and bringing them to justice. I feel like I could be good at that. ‘Stop right there. Put your hands up!’”

She laughs, but it’s a softer sound this time. My heart squeezes with pained affection.

I want her to have those dreams. I want all the kids who’ve grown up like me and my guys to have a chance at a normal future.

“It could happen,” I say, even though I don’t know how. “We’re not done yet.”

When I sneak out of the villa to examine the window Nadia mentioned, the night closes in around me in a cloak of shadows. I waited until it was fully dark like I normally have for my secret prowls, although impatience itched at me like a bad case of poison ivy.

A few security lights beam at long intervals along the wall at the edge of the grounds. I stick close to the villa where the darkness is thickest.

As I come around the back of the massive house, I scan the second floor for the small, square window. Close to the western wing, Nadia said.

The panes of glass reflect shimmers of the distant light. I’m a little more than halfway along the back of the villa when I spot the right one.

I must have seen it before; I’ve circled the building plenty of times since we arrived. I just never paid much attention to it.

But Nadia’s right. I haven’t been inside any rooms that hold a window like that.

If someone on Balthazar’s staff—or the man himself—spends time in there, it could be important. And just as when Nadia saw it, there’s a gap of about an inch between the frame and the sliding pane.