Page 233 of Shadowman

We’ve been sitting in this room forwaytoo long.

It’s actually gorgeous. A den just off the atrium, opposite a robust library. All large, rustic leather furniture, a lit fireplace keeping us warm and the room illuminated. I guess the power’s still out, but that’s really the least of our problems right now.

Just as we were arriving back at the mansion, the gunfire started. And it hasn’t stopped. Not continuous or anything, but every so often, a loud pop causes us to jump in our comfy seats.

Each shot bringing with it a question…

Which of my friends are dead?

That’s not to say I consider everyone in that prison afriend. Some of them are assholes. Most are just faces I’ve grown accustomed to seeing day in and day out. But a few of them I’d rather not see killed… Mainly, Luthor and Ren.

I can’t get it out of my head… The last words we said to each other. Well, the last wordsIsaid to them, since I was the one throwing all of the hurtful accusations their way. At the time, I meant every word of it. But now that things have taken this serious, evendeadly,turn, I can’t help feeling like none of it was really that big of a deal.

I guess the threat of losing people you care about will do that to you. It makes you forget the pain, the stubbornness, the jealousy… The hostility that seemed so important at the time now just seems petty and inconsequential.

I know I was hurt when I was saying it, but I can’t find any of that now. It’s all just… fear. Worry. Regret.

If those are the last words I ever speak to them… I’ll never forgive myself.

And it’s not just Luthor and Ren, either.

The Ivory’s guys have been storming around the mansion since we got here, walkies blaring. Based on the bits and pieces of conversations I’ve overheard, the potential of escaping prisoners isn’t theirprimaryconcern.

That would be Velle.

It’s no secret that tensions have been high since the Warden brought in his new team of guards to take over. I’m not sure what I expected to happen, but over the last few weeks, it’s become painfully clear that the plan was never to simply fire Velle and his men—give ‘em the old pink slip and send them on their merry way.I refused to think about it until right now, but that definitely doesn’t seem like The Ivory’s style.

It’s unclear what his planwas, but it probably wouldn’t have been good for theformerhead asshole in charge and his pack of morally bankrupt guard dogs. And after what Joy told me about them being kicked out of the mansion, it seems like this storm was prettyperfectin that it gave Velle an opportunity to strike.

If we’re being honest, going quietly doesn’t seem like John Chevelle’s style either.

Now, they’re in the prison, holed up somewhere the Warden doesn’t want them, making them a much bigger problem than a few escaped convicts who haven’t seen daylight in years.

The unknown is weighing on me. What could be happening at any given moment to people I’ve been existing alongside inmutual misery for so long. Attempting to understand whyI’mhere, and they’re not.

Is it just because I’m boning one of The Ivory’s spies? Is that really what it comes down to?

I’m safe and toasty warm because of my relationship with Trevel’s dick?

A familiar voice booms from somewhere up the hall, and I flinch.

Or maybe the Warden wants me dead too, and was just waiting to for me to let my guard down…

Trevel’s hand slides onto my knee, pausing its rapid bouncing. “Relax.”

“Okay,” I scoff, shaking my head. “This isfucked… you know that?? What’s going on out there? How long is he going to keep us sitting around with our dicks in our hands, and not the slightestclue—”

The clack of dress shoes on a marble floor brings with it an angry voice that instantly cuts off my complaining. Kent stands fast, pistol still in hand as he nods at us. I guess that means he wants us to stand up too, because Trevel and Dr. Love both get on their feet.

I’m not as familiar with this shit as they are, apparently…All rise for the dishonorable judge, jury, and executioner,Manuel fucking Blanco.

“I don’t give a fuck what it costs, you get them herenow.” The Ivory is barking at someone as he rounds the corner. Once he’s in sight, it’s clear that he’s talking on the phone, though there is a guy I’ve never seen before following after him. “Escuchamenow means fuckingyesterday. Do it, and don’t bother me with nonsense. I want that boatbustling,comprende? Figure it out.”

He ends the call, on what looks like a satellite phone.Interesting… Is cell service out?Then he immediately pulls a walkie-talkie off of his belt, pacing as he holds it up to his face.“Carlito?Esta bien?” He goes quiet while someone responds in muffled Spanish I can’t make out. “You barricaded the doors? Good… Good. Whatever you do, don’t let them out of your sight. Especially Carson. I mean it,soldado. Guns on them at all times, whether they’re eating, sleeping, taking a piss… They don’t move an inch without you there,si? Okay, I’ll be in touch when the reinforcements arrive.”

The person on the other end is sayingten-fouras The Ivory secures the walkie, stalking over to us. I’m instantly so tense, it’s like my muscles are seizing.

I haven’t seen Manuel Blanco in a while. He comes and goes, that’s for sure. But ever since Dash escaped and the prison went on lockdown, he’s been much more elusive. I can’t say I’ve been necessarily bummed about it… Being that every time he’s near me I feel like nothing more than a pawn in his human chess match.