Page 30 of Shadowblood Souls: The Complete Series

But where is there to go other than forward?

Elbow by elbow, I haul myself forward and down. When my thighs slide over the edge of the slope, gravity yanks me forward with more force than I can brace against.

I skid the rest of the way down at a freefall, bumps in the metal scraping against my stomach while my shoulders and hips bang against the metal sides. I try to shove my arms forward to shield my head, but the surface drags at them in the opposite direction.

The next thing I know, the top of my skull is slamming into a wall.

The impact radiates through my mind. My ears ring, and more bile creeps up my throat.

I hold still until the splintering pain eases off enough that I don’t feel like my head’s going to fall right off my neck when I move it. No sound reaches my ears.

If my thump was heard by someone down below, there’s no sign of it.

Cautiously, I peer around me. I’ve come to a stop at the bottom of the incline, where the vent branches out in two directions like the head of a T.

Left or right? In the glow of the flashlight, both directions look almost the same. But I think I spot a slight ridge on the floor of the passage to the left, like there might be an opening there.

I heave myself around the corner and drag my body over to it.

There is an opening, a square a little smaller than the grate on the surface, with slats to let the air flow through. The space beneath it is pitch black.

I hold perfectly still and listen for several minutes. There’s nothing but silence down below. Not the faintest flicker of light either.

As far as I can tell, if anyone is still using this place, they’re nowhere nearby.

Tensed to jerk it away at the first sign of trouble, I aim the flashlight downward so I have some idea what I’d be dropping into. The glow catches on a tiled floor, a cupboard off to the side, and the edge of what I think is a desk.

Okay. Time to get out of this torture chamber.

I flick out my claws and dig at the edge of the grate. To my relief, a few sharp tugs are enough to dislodge it. I drag it out and push it down the passage across from me.

The real problem is compressing myself enough to fit through the hole. I hunch my shoulders together and wriggle, dropping an inch at a time until they pop through—and my hips catch me in mid-fall. Dangling upside down, my head whirls.

Just a little farther. I tug at my body with little hitches that send my gut roiling again and finally plummet to the floor.

I manage to roll in mid-air to land on my hands and knees, if not my feet. The thud when I hit the floor makes my whole body stiffen in alarm.

No footsteps come thundering over to investigate. And when I lift my hands, I find my fingers are smeared with grainy dust.

It’s been a long time since anyone came into this specific room.

Grimacing, I wield my flashlight and stagger out through the doorway. My entire body is throbbing now, and I think my stomach may have permanently flipped upside down, but I haven’t completed my mission yet.

My sneakers leave a trail through the dust coating the floor, down the hall and to the doorways of a couple more rooms that hold nothing but bare furniture and walls. Then I push open a door and find myself gaping at a smaller replica of a very familiar control room.

The screens mounted on the wall are thicker and outdated, the consoles beneath them similarly old-fashioned-looking, like something out of an old sci-fi movie trying to imagine the future within the current style. I run my light over the rows of buttons and switches.

There. A small cluster of controls off to one side has the label BACKUP GENERATOR overtop. I punch the ACTIVATE button with my thumb.

Thankfully, that particular control doesn’t require any special identification. A whirring sound emanates through the room, and the overhead lights flicker on.

Hallelujah. It’s a fucking miracle.

I scan the rest of the controls faster in the clearer illumination—as fast as I can through the pulsing headache that’s emerged in the back of my skull. Where the hell is the FRONT DOOR control?

Finally I spot a lever and a couple of buttons that say ENTRY. I jab at them and yank the lever.

Something I did works, because a low mechanical groan reverberates from the hall outside.

I stumble to the doorway and stare with bleary eyes as the ceiling at what appeared to be a dead end in the hall unfolds. While part yawns upward, steps unfurl down to the floor.

A sliver of sky emerges above, expanding into a huge square at the top of the new staircase that appears to go up at least a couple of floors in height. No wonder Zian couldn’t spot this entrance from up there.

I clutch onto the doorframe for balance, thinking I should yell just in case the guys somehow missed the giant trap door opening in the middle of the field, afraid that something much more solid than words might come out of my mouth if I dare to open it.

The headache bangs on my skull like a toddler with a xylophone.

It’s only a minute before the guys’ voices become audible. They ease down the stairs, Jacob and Zian in the lead, walking a little faster once they’ve spotted me waiting.

“Wow,” Andreas says, peering around him as they reach the hallway, and shoots me a grin. “Nice work.”

I attempt to smile in response and promptly vomit all over the floor.