Page 332 of Shadowblood Souls
“Thanks!”
I dart out the entrance and down to the clearing. Jacob is poised near the trees with a couple of weights from a rack the guardians have set out, but the second I appear, his attention snaps to me.
To avoid being obvious about my real intentions, I stalk over to the edge of the jungle by the path that leads to the climbing area. I don’t need to do more than be here—Jake joins me a moment later.
“What’s up?”
I keep my tone casual. “Dropped something. Help me look?”
I crouch down as if peering through the underbrush. Jacob squats next to me, his shoulder brushing mine.
“Tonight,” I say under my breath. “Right after last dinner. Dom might help you.”
Jacob reins in any reaction he might have to the news other than the glitter of his cool blue eyes. “You got it, Wildcat.”
We veer in separate directions, and then I let out a huff as if in frustration. “I’ll have to look by the climbing range next time I’m out.”
As I lope back to the facility, my heart thuds in my chest. We’re really doing this—if we can get coordinated in time.
My hand rises to my cat-and-yarn necklace, flicking over the silver surface without quite swiveling the joints. And a different thought jabs through me like an icy spear.
If we’re going to get out of here and stay free from Clancy’s grasp, we’re going to have to deal with Griffin.
Nineteen
Riva
We don’t have watches or clocks, but I know my dinner is one of the middle shifts. A few shadowbloods are heading out of the cafeteria when the guardian escorts me over, and more are just arriving when I’m ushered out.
Back in my bedroom, the door thuds shut behind me with the hiss of the lock engaging. My pulse skitters through my veins as I sink down on the side of the bed.
It’s not even a bad room. It’s three times as big as the cells we were confined in at the old facility, with a soft-toned overhead fixture that mimics daylight and a cupboard to store the possessions I’ve actually been allowed to hold on to.
A few changes of clothes, picked by me out of the selection Clancy offered us—all practical and flexible, but that’s how I like them. The radio he gave me, programmed to only offer stations with no hosts talking about the outside world, just music.
A couple of novels from the small fiction library we’re allowed to borrow from, that I tried to read to pass the time but lost interest in. An assortment of weights, bands, and other exercise equipment so I can work on my strength and flexibility between outside training sessions.
How is it possible that our new captors have treated us both better and worse than any before?
Maybe that’s why it’s most important that we get out of this place. The better parts lulled me into enough complacency that the worse parts took me by surprise.
No matter how people like Clancy dress up the situation, no matter what grand ideals they announce, in the end, we’re still prisoners as long as the guardians have us.
I should never have let myself feel like somehow that could be an okay life. Like it wasn’t reasonable for me to want to make my own choices beyond someone else’s tight restrictions.
I turn on the radio and switch it to a station playing a soft but steady beat and lowkey melodies. Nothing that makes me want to dance. Just enough to focus my mind without distracting me.
It occurs to me that it might be smart to have some extra clothes along. Even the radio could be useful in some way.
But I don’t have anything to carry them with. And even though I can’t see any, I’m sure the guardians have cameras monitoring the room.
Just like the first time, we have to act normal, or we could betray our plans before we get to act on them.
And I won’t think about how badly that first escape attempt ended.
The flickers of memory bring my mind back to Griffin. A new ache forms in my stomach.
I wish I could talk to the other guys properly—make a real strategy, confirm that we’re all on the same page. We’ll have to scramble to organize ourselves once the doors open.
