Page 308 of Shadowblood Souls
I need to keep training, keep watching, and figure out a way to actually get us out of here. None of the rest matters as long as Clancy’s calling the shots.
Nadia lets out a huff and swipes the short strands of her thick black hair back from her face. “I guess not. But even if it is nicer here than it was in the old facility, I want to see more of what’s out there.”
My chest constricts, knowing that longing for freedom so well. “Yeah. You’ll get there.”
On my terms rather than Clancy’s, if I can manage it.
The carnage from the photos he showed me of the last kids we tried to rescue flashes through my mind, and the knots in my gut pull tighter. My terms have to be safer this time.
Booker saunters over from where he just finished a round of strength training. “When they send you on one of those missions, you’ll have to trade in the neon for stealth-wear. Are you sure you can handle that?”
Nadia rolls her eyes at his teasing, but a hint of a blush appears on her brown cheeks at the same time. “Maybe, maybe not. My whole job is lighting things up.”
Her words tickle my curiosity. “That’s your shadowblood power?”
She nods and picks up the jump rope she brought out for an aerobics workout. “I’m a human glowworm. Lucky me.”
She flips the rope over her head and starts up a brisk rhythm, moving her feet back and forth rather than simply keeping them in place. A shimmer appears beneath her skin.
Within a matter of seconds, the glow has risen to the surface, shining off her as if she’s a signal beacon.
Booker laughs and claps his hands in approval. “We’ll never get lost in the dark with you around, anyway.”
As I get up, planning on taking another run through the stealth course—since stealth is definitely going to be key in working around Clancy’s security systems—Booker glances at me. “The mission went okay, didn’t it? You’re all right?”
I hesitate, startled. The questions are perfectly straightforward, but his concern sounds genuine.
What’s the best way to answer? I roll the words around in my mouth. “Things got more complicated than we expected. I’m still figuring out how I feel about that. Why? Did you hear something from Celine’s group?”
Did the younger shadowbloods who came along pick up on something being off even though we never said as much in front of them?
But Booker shakes his head with a flash of sunlight off his pale hair. “Nah. Just your vibe.” He waves vaguely around my body. “I see auras, basically. Like a haze that gives an idea of where a person’s at, physically and mentally. Yours looks kind of uneasy.”
Oh, shit. I had no idea he could pick up on my internal state while I’ve been doing my best to put a good face forward.
“I’m still not totally used to the whole setup here,” I say in the best explanation I can give. “This island isn’t where I was planning on ending up.”
He lets out another chuckle. “Yeah, I guess that’s the same for all of us.”
Nadia pauses in her rope-jumping. Booker bumps his knuckles against her shoulder in a playful but affectionate gesture. “I’m going to go tackle the ropes. See you around, Glowworm.”
She watches him go, the rope swaying in her hands. I recognize the longing in her expression, all the way down to my bones.
“Were you in the same facility before?”
Nadia jerks her gaze back to me with an embarrassed purse of her lips. “Some of the time, anyway. When we were kids. There was a point when they started only letting girls train with other girls—and the guys with the guys. Until now.”
A chill washes over me. That might be kind of my fault too.
When my guys and I tried to escape the first time, one of the guardians who caught me said something about it being a mistake to include a “female” in the mix. Maybe they figured the emotional connections forming between us had given us extra motivation to want to get out.
Apparently once they came to that conclusion, they applied their new principles to the younger shadowbloods.
“I’m sorry,” I can’t help saying.
Nadia shrugs. “Maybe it was better like that. It’s not like anything could have happened in the kind of place we were before. I mean…” She trails off awkwardly, tensing as if she expects me to mock her for her romantic aspirations.
I don’t really know how to do this whole role-model thing. I’m only four years older than her, barely more experienced.
