Page 399 of Shadowblood Souls
The woman who escorted us here dips her head without any sign of concern and motions to the other end of the room. “My employer will explain that to you.”
For the first time, I really take in the space beyond Dominic’s bed.
Delicate paintings of leafy saplings and lightly clouded skies cover some of the walls beneath the high, beamed ceiling; the rest of the aged surface shines pale yellow. More small tiles like in the hallway stretch across the floor in a pattern of spirals. A huge glass chandelier dangles overhead, sparkling with the sunlight spilling through the arched windows.
Several of the many armchairs stand in a circle around a broad, boxy wooden table that looks oddly modern compared tothe rest of the furnishings. The top of that table is lifting up with a soft mechanical whir to reveal a widescreen TV.
The moment the screen is fully upright, it flickers on. A man appears, sitting behind an elegant but sturdy wooden desk against a wall painted similarly to the ones around us.
A man who’s familiar for the same reason our escort is. He’s the one who stood over me when I lay aching next to the rolled truck.
The one who told the woman to shoot Dominic.
As my hands ball automatically, he leans his burly body forward with his elbows braced on top of the desk. It’s hard to judge his size with nothing to use for a clear comparison, but he might be as big as Zian. He’s built like a linebacker—a linebacker who’s been squeezed into a slick, slate-gray suit.
His athletic bulk combines with the rest of his features to make me think of a lion. A mane of thick hair, mostly gray but shot through with lingering streaks of tawny brown, drifts to just above his broad shoulders.
And his peering eyes… There’s a feral energy to their intensity that raises the hairs on the back of my arms even though he’s only present digitally.
His voice does nothing to dispel the impression, rolling from his lips in a throaty baritone. “Greetings, my shadowbloods. Welcome to your new home.”
My hackles rise automatically at the “my.” I don’t have the patience for small talk.
I step closer to the screen. “We didn’t ask to be stuck in someone else’s idea of a ‘home.’ Who the hell are you?”
The leonine man offers a smile with a flash of white teeth. “You can simply call me Balthazar. Mr. Balthazar, if you want to be polite about it. I’ve taken over control of the shadowblood project from the guardians who never got past silly diversions. You belong to me now.”
Andreas has tensed at the introduction. The name niggles at my memory in the brief moment before he speaks.
“You were part of the Guardianship, weren’t you?” he says. “Or you used to be—one of the founding families? They said you’d disappeared.”
Balthazar shows no reaction other than the slightest twitch of his gaze. “I have no current association with those fools. Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you fulfill your purpose to the most impressive possible extent.”
His mouth stretches in a wider grin. A shiver passes over my skin.
He’s talking as if he thinks we’ll be happy to fulfill whatever he thinks our impressive purpose is.
Clancy, the former leader of the guardians, had big dreams too, but he always couched them in practical terms. Even at his most horrible, he maintained an air of military discipline and feigned compassion.
I’m getting the sense that the man in front of us now is utterly insane. Would that be better or worse?
The alarm bells blaring through my nerves are inclined to say worse.
Griffin is eyeing the screen, his mouth slanted at an uncertain angle. “What about Dominic? Is he recovering?”
“Why do you have him set up in the fucking living room?” Jacob demands, jumping in.
Balthazar waves a thick-fingered hand dismissively. “He is receiving the necessary treatment to maintain his current state.”
I can’t stop the words from bursting from my throat. “Hiscurrentstate? He looks like he’s in a coma!”
Balthazar’s slow blink only adds to the predatory vibe he’s giving off. “Indeed. And he’ll remain there, where you can check on him, to help motivate you. As long as you follow your orders, you can ensure the systems supporting him stay on.”
A chill sweeps through me. There’s no need to read between the lines—he’s outright saying that he’ll kill Dom if we don’t behave.
Zian stares at the screen. “You can’t just leave him like— Weneedhim.”
He breaks off his protest with an anguished growl. My other men and the younger shadowblood stir restlessly around me.
