Page 61 of Shadowblood Souls: The Complete Series

Six

Jacob

I t’s possible that none of the people in this club are monsters.

It’s also possible that all of them are.

The patrons swarming the place are doing a good job of imitating dangerous beasts, at least. The streaks of ruddy light that cut through the dimness keep catching on spikes that I mistake for spines or horns for an instant before the full picture becomes clear and I see they’re only embellishments on a jacket, wrist cuff, or choker.

The smell of leather permeates the large, low-ceilinged room, mingling with the sour notes of various alcoholic spirits. The same material’s texture covering so many of the figures gives brief impressions of animalistic hides.

And then there are the tattoos and piercings sinking right into the patrons’ actual skin. Rings and gems and more spikes, flashing in the light. Dark imprints crawling across forearms and necks and even faces, sometimes with clear images but sometimes just abstract patterns.

I scan every one of them, my body tensed for the first sign of anything definitely inhuman. But every pair of eyes I glance into and every form I consider appears normal enough once I’ve studied it.

Those pairs of eyes are studying us in turn. Most with skepticism, mixed with either curiosity or hostility.

We don’t really fit in. I didn’t realize this place would require a uniform.

Andreas, Zian, and I look way too overtly normal in our varying styles of college-guy clothes, no piercings and no tattoos within view. Dominic just looks odd, wading through the crowd in his parka.

Imagine how this bunch of supposed toughs would react to what he’s hiding under that coat.

Riva is the only one who looks like she could belong. She strides along in her combat boots, her hands tucked into the pockets of her dark hoodie, the silver layer of her hair reflecting the lights.

She’s always moved with a certain assurance, the knowledge that she can tackle any physical challenge that comes her way. I remember watching her stride through the arena, her eyes flashing with determination to take on whatever crap the guardians were going to throw at us next.

That confidence has hardened in her over the years we were apart. If before she was fire, now she’s got plenty of steel in her too.

But also a tender underbelly she protects so well, I almost convinced myself it wasn’t there until the truth of it was smacking me in the face.

I stick close to her—as close as I can walk without provoking a flinch. There aren’t a whole lot of women in here in general, and none as pretty as her. Most of the gazes that travel over her body are at least curious if not outright leering.

My hands stay balled at my sides. If we weren’t on a reconnaissance mission where we need to not stick out any more than we already do, I’d jab all their fucking eyes out.

It doesn’t help that Riva is swaying just a bit with the chaotic rhythm of the music blaring from the overhead speakers. Every motion makes her lithe, athletic grace more obvious.

I want to slide my hands down her sides and tug her tight against me. I want to bury my face in her hair and drink in the scent I never let myself appreciate before.

But she’d probably jab my eyes out if I even tried. I wouldn’t even blame her.

I jerk my gaze away. My nerves jump with the restless energy winding through my limbs that I have no outlet for.

There’s so much emotion churning inside me that I don’t know what to do with. Regret and desire and shame and devotion.

I’ve been so empty of anything other than vengeful rage for so long that the deluge sets me off-balance. Like I’m a ship, and sudden swells of waves keep rocking me in directions I can’t always predict.

I fucked up. I fucked up so utterly and completely.

I put the woman next to me—the woman I spent so much of my life loving—through total agony, both physical and emotional. I did it on purpose.

It’s a fucking miracle she even accepts being in the same room with me.

I have no idea how to heal the damage I did, how to make her feel good in any way that could come close to making up for the awfulness I put her through.

All I can do is be right here to protect her from the slightest threat. Make room for her voice when she has something to say.

Bit by bit, I will make her believe that I treasure her. That I know she’s my equal.

That she never deserved one particle of the shit I threw at her.

And if that’s not enough for her to ever do more than tolerate my presence, well, it’ll be my own damn fault, won’t it?

The thought sends a harsher smack of anguish through my chest. My hands squeeze tighter.

I’ll protect her from everyone out there and from me .

And from the power inside her she’s still afraid of. We need to find one of these monsters and get them to cough up their secrets.

I haven’t spotted a single clue around us so far. My jaw clenches with frustration, a looming sense of failure—and a jump of my nerves as my own power sparks.

One of the lights overhead crackles out with a spurt of shattering glass. A few of the patrons shout as the tiny shards drift down on them like vicious snow.

Shit. I didn’t mean to do that.

Well, there’s no way any of these dorks could connect the little mishap to me. Still, I grasp at the shifting energy inside me, grappling for a better hold on it.

We veer to the left, making a circuit of the space. The music isn’t quite as ear-rattling near the bar.

The crimson lights help disguise Andreas’s talent as he flicks his attention from one head to another. I can tell from the brief, starker flares of red over his dark irises that he’s delving into the patrons’ memories, searching for anything that might identify a target.

Zian is carrying out his own inspection, using his X-ray sight to peer beneath layers of clothing for any monstrous appendages they might be hiding like Dominic does. There’s no outward sign of his talent other than the twitches of grimaces that cross his broad face.

All the flesh he glimpses must be human if not particularly enjoyable to look at, because he keeps stalking on without nudging me.

A guy who’s about my height, his short hair dyed like green leopard spots, bumps his shoulder against mine—hard. My head jerks toward him.

“What the fuck are you idiots doing in here?” he demands over the rumble of bass guitar. “Get lost on the way to a kegger?”

I smile sharply at him, resisting the urge to bare my teeth like I’m as much a wolfman as Zian. “We’re right where we wanted to be.”

He opens his mouth again—and, oh what a tragedy, his mug of beer on the bar counter next to him suddenly topples over.

As he yelps and the bartender rushes to mop up the mess, the five of us merge deeper into the mass of bodies.

The others have been too focused on other things to notice the minor altercation. But when we get farther down the bar, a guy in a studded leather vest reaches out his hand and snaps his fingers at Riva like she’s a dog.

“Why’re you hanging out with these dipshits, beautiful?” he hollers. “Come over here and let a real man buy you a drink.”

Riva rolls her eyes, but my shoulders have already stiffened with a jolt of fury—and jealousy, as if some stupid part of me thinks she’d actually take this imbecile up on his offer.

Three bottles whip off the shelves behind the bar. One of them whacks the jerk in the back of his skull.

Oops.

Somehow I can’t summon any grief over that little slip-up.

But as the asshole whirls around to yell at the bewildered bartender, Riva’s gaze snaps to me. So do my friends’.

Riva gives a brusque motion for us to move away from the bar. The second the crowd filling the room has closed around us, she spins on me.

“What the hell was that?”

“He was being a prick,” I protest, and wince inwardly. I don’t want to argue with her.

And I really shouldn’t have let my power slip the reins again. What the hell is wrong with me?

I already know the answer to that.

She’s glowering at me from just a foot away, and there’s nothing wrong about her at all, only how badly I screwed things up.

“We’re supposed to be keeping a low profile,” she says, crossing her arms in front of her.

Andreas nods with an apologetic grimace. “We should keep any visible talents to a minimum, right? Don’t want to scare off any monsters or risk the guardians catching wind somehow.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” I mutter.

How can I admit that I didn’t even mean to brain that guy? I’m the one who’s kept us all on track.

I can’t go flying off the rails now. Not when Riva needs me too.

As much as she needs any of us. Her steps might bounce a bit with the rhythm, showing the fluid grace that compact body is capable of, but I can see the strength in every motion.

I remember how she brought all those soldiers to their knees with her voice alone.

She isn’t a monster. She’s a fucking marvel.

But we still need to find the actual monsters.

I catch Zian’s gaze, and he shakes his head. Andreas is frowning, a crease forming in his brow as he stretches his abilities again and again.

Maybe Engel’s fearsome creatures aren’t into the punk scene. It’s not doing much of anything for me.

I turn toward Dominic, who’s looking even more hunched and awkward than usual in his parka.

I’m about to suggest to him that we leave and check out some other place, because if he agrees then I’m probably being strategic rather than just giving up, but right then a bellowed voice socks my ears from behind me.

“What the fuck did you just say?”

I pause and glance over, my body going even more tense. Two beefy guys who could almost rival Zian in size are glaring at each other while several others who might be their friends look on with uneasy scowls.

“You heard me,” the one guy growls through his thick red beard. “Twilight Zombduds totally sold out with that last album, and they should be dead to all of us.”

The other guy jabs his thick finger at the bearded guy’s face. “They paid their fucking dues, and that’s my uncle’s best friend’s cousin you’re talking about.”

I don’t really understand what the hell they’re so worked up over, but the next thing I know, Beardie is swinging his fist. Suddenly the cluster of figures around them transforms into a seething mass of angry yells and bashing hands.

The atmosphere in the room goes from mildly ominous to war zone in an instant. I shove between Riva and one of the combatants who ricochets her way, taking an elbow to the ribs before I heave him out of range.

If they mark her with so much as a bruise…

My pulse thunders; my nerves sizzle like they’ve been tapped into an electric current. Two more lights shatter across the ceiling.

Didn’t mean to do that either. Fucking hell.

I whip around toward the others, every cell in my body buzzing. I have to get us out of here—both to get Riva and my friends away from the fight, and to make sure I don’t expose us.

The others are already pushing through the crowd toward the door, but the club patrons are jostling in every direction. Some are shoving toward the fight, either to join it or cheer them on.

My heart starts hammering twice as fast. I slam between them to push my way back to Riva’s side.

Bodycheck one asshat to the side here. Punt a slowpoke out of the way there.

Clear a way to the door.

Ignore the bottles flying off the bar shelves and smashing every which way.

Ignore the groaning of the floor that might be some part of me prying at the boards.

Just get out. Just get away. There was nothing in this dump for us anyway.

We stumble out onto the sidewalk with a stream of other people who weren’t interested in the fight. Some asshole grabs Riva’s arm.

I lunge at him, but she gets there first, slamming her knuckles into his nose. He swears at her and staggers off, and I jar to a stop beside her with a growl.

The sign over the club windows screeches, one end starting to wrench forward.

Riva looks at me. I clamp down on my power with all the will I have in me, every muscle going rigid.

I’m going to defend her. I won’t be one of the things that’s threatening her—not ever again.

Get your head on straight, Jake.

The storm of emotions I still don’t know how to master roils on inside me, but nothing else breaks. I feel as wiped out as if I’ve sprinted a mile just from tamping it down.

I’m way too out of practice at feeling things.

Andreas nudges us all on down the street. I breathe evenly through my nose, letting the chilly night air wash over me.

In that moment, I wish I was back in the forest. Nothing but trees around us and bare earth beneath my feet.

Then Riva freezes in her tracks a couple of steps ahead of me.

We all halt too. She points toward the other side of the street, farther down.

“That woman there,” she murmurs. “The one with the green dress. I think she’s what we’re looking for.”