Page 234 of Shadowblood Souls: The Complete Series

Sixteen

Riva

I lean against the tree trunk, the tang of pine scent tickling my nose, and will away the knots in my stomach. Knots that aren’t only because of the perilous mission we’re here to carry out.

In every direction around my perch about ten feet off the ground, trees loom close together. Their branches—some bare, many sprouting needles so dense they look like a chillier version of palm-tree fronds—crisscross overhead, filtering the late-afternoon sunlight.

A faint dusting of snow coats the forest floor and the winter-wizened vegetation between the trees, which is why I’m up in the air. Turning invisible doesn’t do us much good when our footprints will still be seen.

Everything about this place washes over me like an echo from the past. The only thing missing from the memories it stirs up is the dark walls and sloping roof of Ursula Engel’s cabin.

We aren’t anywhere near our creator’s final home, the site of her death. It turns out—maybe not surprisingly, considering they owned an entire tropical island—that the Guardianship has a little property in Europe too. Including several dozen acres of undeveloped forest in northern Wales.

Balthazar agreed to meet them here, on a slab of concrete the size of a tennis court that’s the only sign of human intervention here so far. It’s just beyond the limits of my vision through the trees up ahead.

Whatever the guardians planned to do with this territory, they haven’t gotten very far yet.

We didn’t want to approach that site too closely until Balthazar arrived. We don’t know how carefully the guardians are patrolling the woods… or whether our greater foe might have sent some of his own people to make an advance survey of the terrain.

He’s definitely bringing some of the shadowbloods with him.

We’d briefly hoped that we might be able to end the confrontation before it even started, with Sorsha blasting his helicopter out of the sky.

But in my most recent drowsing for his location, I determined that Nadia, Booker, and Devon are in the helicopter with him.

We have no idea how many of the other shadowblood kids he might be bringing along. Sorsha has managed to get her sights on it from a distance and reported it’s a large one that could hold at least twelve people as well as the pilot.

She didn’t argue when I insisted that we had to wait until we could strike at Balthazar without murdering the kids too. Neither did Rollick.

I should probably be glad that most of the demon’s allies didn’t come along this far on the mission, since the Guardianship has prepped the forest around their future building site with numerous deposits of silver and iron.

I can only imagine what the other shadowkind would have to say about our hesitation.

It shouldn’t be a problem. Balthazar will get out of the helicopter, and all I need is to set eyes on him to project the killing shriek already vibrating at the base of my throat. Or maybe Jacob or Dominic or Sorsha will get a clear enough line of attack first.

Our former captor isn’t leaving this forest alive, one way or the other. Not as long as we’re alive to have any say about it.

An icy breeze winds between the branches. Our supernatural concealment shields us from sight but not the nipping chill. My fingers curl inside the gloves I’m ready to tear off the instant I need my claws.

The slimmer branches sway around me. Everywhere I look, images float up from our stealthy trek to Engel’s isolated home.

I can’t help thinking back to the deceptive welcome she gave us while she was plotting our deaths the whole time. To the words she hurled at us as her mercenaries burst into the house.

You’re monsters of the worst kind. Abominations. Now I can end the catastrophe I set in motion.

I lower my head and gather my resolve, ignoring the pained thud of my heart. Our creator didn’t end us. She was wrong.

I’m not going to let the Guardianship or Balthazar doom us and the other shadowbloods, as much as they might want to.

A high-pitched bird call peals through the forest, and my gaze darts up. It’s a whistle we’re using as a signal—Zian is alerting us that it’s time to close in.

I shed my gloves and dart along the branch I’m perched on to leap to the tree ahead of me. My feet land with only the softest patter. My clawed fingers dig into the bark to steady me.

Over the rustling of the wind through the pine needles, the distant warble of helicopter blades reaches my ears. Zian’s heightened senses will have picked it up before the rest of us.

With another few careful jumps, I can make out the stretch of bare pavement through the interlaced branches. I can also catch the slight movements of several figures in military-style camouflage lurking on the forest floor between me and the landing spot.

Immediately, I can tell they’re with the Guardianship, not Balthazar. Their helmets and vests may be painted in greens and browns to help them blend in with the vegetation, but the style is unmistakably familiar and the texture gives away the metal underneath.

Protections against shadowkind. We did convince them that Balthazar has allied with monsters in his supposed quest to bring down humanity.

From Pearl’s questioning of one of the Guardianship board members under her seductive spell, we’ve gathered that Balthazar left evidence to suggest we shadowbloods fled to freedom after killing Clancy. The guardians have no idea that he rounded us up.

There’s no way they could imagine that he not only has their former tools at his beck and call but can also manufacture more shadowbloods to his specifications.

Apparently, the guardians are hoping to take him prisoner—or kill him if that’s their only option. I don’t think they’re remotely prepared for the fight he’ll actually give them.

But that’s okay. I can’t summon any sympathy for the organization that shaped us through clinical brutality.

All that matters is finding our opening to destroy the man in charge. If we can do that, then the other shadowbloods will be free of his genocidal ambitions.

None of us can figure out how to build real lives for ourselves until he’s gone.

I cross the short distance between two more trees even more carefully, curling my fingers around branches and easing my feet across rather than risking a small jump. Thankfully, Wales doesn’t get huge snowfalls, so there isn’t enough of a dusting under my boots to do more than stick to the soles.

When I have a reasonably clear view of the concrete surface, with only a couple of trees hiding any movements the branch under me makes, I sink into a crouch. The whir of the helicopter blades grows ever louder.

Through the tingle of energy in the marks along my collarbone, I touch base with each of my men. Zian and Jacob have crept up to the edge of the landing spot in trees several yards on either side of me.

Dominic has settled onto a branch almost directly across from me, where he was set by Sorsha as planned. Without supernatural strength and speed or Jacob’s telekinetic ability to help him along, we figured it was safer to have her carry him into place.

Andreas has hung back about a quarter of a mile away. We decided his ability to confuse our enemies wasn’t worth the possibility of him getting caught, since agility isn’t his strongest suit either. But he’s ready to race in and help however he can if it sounds like we need it.

And he’s already given us a huge advantage with the invisibility he cast over us.

Griffin, who’s never been much of a physical fighter, stayed with Drey. He’ll be casting calming vibes over the guardians and Balthazar from a distance to help the beginning of the confrontation go smoothly.

We’re all in this together, working toward the same goal. Connected not just by blood but by love and trust as well.

Living proof that we’re so much more than the monsters Engel saw us as.

Below me, the patrolling guardians come to a halt. The helicopter glides into view, stark black against the cloud-hazed sky.

I think of Balthazar’s smug face on the villa’s TV screen. Of his demands that I take his side as his daughter against everyone I care about.

Of his casual slaughter of Lindsay and Sully—just kids, just shadowbloods like us.

My shriek burns in my throat. My muscles tense in anticipation.

It doesn’t really matter who takes him down in the end, as long as we destroy him. But I can’t deny that I’ll be happiest if it’s me.

He insisted on being a part of my existence from the moment of my conception, in ways I’d never have asked for. So now I’m going to excise him from my life with as much compassion as he deserves: none.

As the chopper descends to the ground with a slight sway in a gust of wind, three men and a woman emerge from the trees on the other side of the concrete clearing to meet Balthazar.

In their midst, I recognize the dour face and slumped shoulders of the man who scolded Clancy: Richmond from the board.

I assume the others are fellow board members. How large is their organization anyway? It seems like every time we pick away at their numbers, more spring up like heads on a hydra.

Their authority and their resources have dwindled, though. They’ve lost every member of their founding families, one way or another. They’ve lost all of the shadowbloods they’ve created.

Without us, they’re nothing. They can’t even track us down without one of our own.

The helicopter settles onto the concrete surface. The blades slow and go still, leaving an eerie hush in their wake.

Any second now, he’ll step into view?—

A door opens with a faint squeak, but it’s on the opposite side of the chopper from me. I grit my teeth in frustration.

My jaw clenches even tighter when Balthazar makes his appearance in front of the helicopter.