Page 460 of Shadowblood Souls
I summon as much of yesterday’s determination as I can and trudge toward the kitchen. Griffin emerges when I’m only a few feet away.
He aims a gentle smile at me with a tip of his head. “I have some good news—and it looks like you could use it.”
His words and the smile wrap warmth around me. “Yeah, I’d say so. What’s up?”
“I managed to get Balthazar to have a chat with me this morning—through the screen.” Griffin motions toward the drawing room. “I pointed out some things about emotional endurance and all that… The point is, in the end he agreed that you need a break before he lays any more responsibilities on you.”
I blink at Griffin. “What kind of a break?” And how much of his emotion-warping talent did he manage to impose on Balthazar to get him to agree?
Griffin’s smile stretches into a grin. “You’re allowed to go into town on a date. With just one of us, your choice, but that’s better than nothing. A few hours where you can recover and enjoy a little freedom to do whatyouwant.”
Twenty
Andreas
As the car rumbles along the first streets of denser-packed buildings, carrying us toward downtown Florence, I glance across the backseat to where Riva is sitting.
It’s strange seeing her wearing a dress, even this fairly casual knit one with a boat neck and a skirt that falls to just below her knees, the long sleeves hidden under a suede jacket for extra warmth. The only other time I have is the fancy evening gown she picked out for the soap-opera-style party I arranged on Rollick’s yacht.
When I couldn’t help staring at my first sight of her by the car back at the villa, her lips quirked into an awkward smile. “Since this is supposed to be a date, I figured I should dress up a little.”
I can’t help thinking of all the possible lives she could be living, all the things she might have enjoyed doing in those lives, if the one she has hadn’t been so strictly regimented by our keepers.
Dressed up or not, she’s still Riva. Still warily alert, still poised as if braced for danger.
She’s gazing out the window, her eyes flicking back and forth as she takes in the first semi-local scenery we’ve had access to beyond the villa’s grounds. But her hand stays clamped around mine as if to make sure I don’t disappear.
I’m filled with joy at being with her outside the tighter constraints of the villa and the thrill of wondering what we might accomplish with our leashes loosened. Those happier emotions come with a twinge of guilt.
I clear my throat, unable to hold back the question. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather have brought Dominic?”
Riva’s attention jerks to me. “What?”
I shrug awkwardly. “I mean—he just woke up. You’ve had a lot less time with him than the rest of us since all this started.”
She studies me for a moment before scooting a little closer on the seat. Her fingers shift to twine with mine instead of just wrapping around them.
“I thought about it,” she admits. “But I figured—you’re our history-keeper. Our storyteller. You’d be the best one to make the others feel like they got to have a bit of freedom too.”
The intensity in her eyes tells me she intends to communicate more than the words she’s saying. There’s something about my talent with memory that she thinks will be important during our temporary escape—something Balthazar wouldn’t be happy about.
I nod with a crooked smile. “That makes sense.”
What makes more sense than anything is that she’d be thinking up ways to spin this gift to our advantage, no matter how monitored we are. I’m not totally sure what we can accomplish out here that would work in our favor while the other guys are still trapped back at the villa, but I’m open to ideas.
I also intend to help Riva enjoy this theoretical date in every way possible while we have the chance.
She’s seemed more grounded since Dominic came back to us, her vibe of constant agitation and frustration fading. But the signs of tension haven’t vanished. Her worries show in the set of her jaw, the flex of her fingers around mine.
How could shenotstill be upset about our situation?
I can’t free us permanently from Balthazar when we’re on our own, but I can at least remind her of how much we have to look forward to when we do break free. Of all the good things this world has to offer despite the evil we’ve encountered in it.
The excursion has already told us a bit more about what we’re dealing with. We know that Balthazar’s villa is in Italy—not a surprise given the look of it, but good to have confirmation—within a few hours of Florence.
Unfortunately, I don’t speak any Italian, but it’s got some overlap with Spanish. I could probably make myself understood on the basics if I needed to.
Not that going up to someone and trying to convey that we’re being held on a mountaintop by a madman is likely to go over well. Somehow I don’t think the Florence police department is equipped to tackle Balthazar, even if they believed us.
