Page 347 of Shadowblood Souls
The air flow through the space has kept it from getting musty, though. The faint perfume of jungle flowers laces the breeze that washes through the hallways.
Andreas leads us to the kitchen, which is deep enough inside the building that it’s remained mostly unaffected by the jungle’s imposition. At his twist of a fixture, clear water burbles from a tap.
“The stoves have power,” he says, pointing to a couple of rows of burners. “And there’s a little food left in the pantry that might be edible—rice, dried beans, and lentils that I don’t think would really go bad.”
The tall girl who lit our way through the night lets out a low chuckle. “I could go for a real dinner.”
Riva takes in the space with a contemplative air and gives a short nod. “I think we should spend the night here. Get some real rest before we keep going with the journey. But we’ll need people keeping watch at all times just in case.”
Zian moves closer to her, his expression turning abruptly fierce. “The guardians aren’t getting their hands on us again.”
Riva beams at him, so much affection shining in her eyes that my chest clenches up—even more so at the hesitant but bright smile Zee offers in return. At the momentary lifting of his hand as if he’s thinking of offering her a brief touch, only to jerk his arm back to his side at the last second.
I don’t need Griffin’s talent to know how much he wants her… or how hard it is for him to grapple with that longing. My stomach twists in pained sympathy, and I find myself remembering Griffin’s comments to me in the jungle.
He tried to make it easier for me to embrace everything Riva’s been willing to offer me. To help the two of us understand each other.
If she wants to see me happy, I want the same for her at least as much. For all of my friends, including Zian, who has so much trouble reaching for that happiness himself.
But just telling him how much Riva cares about him wouldn’t be enough. I’m pretty sure he already knows. That isn’t the problem.
I keep part of my attention on Zian as I move to help the others sort through the kitchen equipment, the gears in my head spinning.
Maybe I don’t have to only be the guy who races into a fight and bashes any possible threat. It’s not like those impulses have been helping my friends or the woman I love a whole lot recently anyway.
Maybe I could be as generous as it seemed Griffin meant to be—fill the hole where Zian has faltered.
I just need to figure out how. For both him and her.
Twenty-Two
Riva
Our mishmash of rice, lentils, and the few spices we scrounged up isn’t fit for a five-star restaurant, but after twenty-four hours of crackers, hard cheese, and bruised fruit, I have to hold myself back from licking the plate when I’m done.
We’ve hunkered down in the vast kitchen, one of the cleanest rooms in the abandoned hotel. The terrace on the other side of the hall looks like it served as the main dining area, but it’s been consumed by jungle: tree branches jutting through the broken railings and vines strangling the chair-and-table sets.
The daylight has almost completely faded. As I glance around at my fellow shadowbloods, I catch a couple yawning.
I raise my voice to carry to the entire group. “We should get some rest while it’s dark. It wouldn’t be safe to turn on any lights at night anyway. And as soon as the sun comes up, we’ll want to get moving again.”
Mumbles of agreement reach me. Dominic stands up with the more confident air that’s starting to come naturally to him.
“There are lots of bedrooms farther down the halls,” he says to the group. “Pick one that’s reasonably neat, and stay at least in pairs so you have someone to turn to if there’s a problem. I think we should avoid the second floor since the roof obviously isn’t in great repair.”
“And give yourselves a good wash if you want,” I add. “Running the water shouldn’t give us away, and we don’t know when we’ll have another chance.”
After another day of trekking, the dirt and dried sweat on my own skin itches at me.
A few of the younger kids drift out of the room, Ajax and Devon hand in hand. Celine gets to her feet with a swish of her ponytail and manages a smile that only looks a little tired.
“You Firsts should get a break. You’ve been running yourselves ragged looking after the rest of us—you organized the whole plan to get us out. We can take the first watch.”
She motions to herself, Booker, and Nadia—the oldest of the kids who escaped with us. Nadia nods without hesitation, but my stomach dips uneasily.
“I think at least one of us—” I start.
Griffin interrupts so smoothly it barely feels rude, looking up from where he’s stroking Lua’s fur. “I can watch over the younger shadowbloods for the first shift. I don’t think I’m ready to sleep yet anyway.”
