Page 373 of Shadowblood Souls
But shadowbloods don’t generally get sick. Our enhanced bodies come with hyperactive healing skills. I can’t remember ever having more than a brief sniffle growing up.
Clancy will have to come—out of concern for his “resources” if nothing else—won’t he?
I lie there through a couple more spells of gagging and mumbled answers to the doctor’s questions. My heart gradually sinks.
I could have miscalculated. Maybe I haven’t accomplished anything beyond giving myself a stomachache.
Then brisk footsteps rap outside. The leader of the facility strides into the room—and he’s brought a bonus I hadn’t even let myself hope for.
Through my lowered eyelashes, I see Dominic trailing behind Clancy, my friend’s mouth tight with worry.
“See if you can sense any internal injuries,” Clancy orders him.
Dominic comes up beside me and rests his tentacles gently on the bare skin of my wrist and neck. I crack my eyes open just enough to make out Clancy behind him—turned mostly away from me in hushed conference with the doctor.
He’s let down his guard. He doesn’t suspect anything from me. Perfect.
I give Dominic’s hand a light tap, the tiniest of nudges to the left so he’ll completely block the doctor’s view of my face if she happens to glance our way. That’s all it takes.
The connection we each share with Riva might be marked on our skin, but the five of us—no, thesixof us—all know each other down to our bones. Deeper than I think Clancy can even conceive of.
Dom’s eyebrows rise just a smidge. He shifts over without a word.
Keeping my eyelids low, I stare at the back of Clancy’s head—and tumble into it.
I hold the image of the man Riva saw at the front of my thoughts and prod the whirl of Clancy’s past impressions with it.One after another, memories float to the surface of him speaking to that older man: in a video chat, in person, on the phone.
In every conversation, tension runs through Clancy’s body. He keeps his voice smooth, but I can feel the urge in his throat to become terser.
He calls the other man Richmond. And Richmond has a lot of ideas about how Clancy should be running things, often referring to “the board” of the Guardianship that it sounds like he speaks for.
I push harder, faster, for a snippet of anything relevant to our current situation. And then I slide into a vision of Clancy’s cave-like office here, Richmond wearing the same clothes Riva saw three days ago.
“Even with all your precautions, thirteen of them made it right off the island,” Richmond is saying in a patronizing tone. “Including the six that are by far the most valuable.”
Clancy stands stiffly behind his desk. “I retrieved all of them before there was any trouble.”
Richmond snorts. “Any trouble other than two deaths and a whole lot of manpower expended. Look, the board has given you the leeway to try your approach, but a misstep like this calls the whole endeavor into question. There’s been talk of superseding your right to direct the Guardianship. You know you’d never have taken it at all if Balthazar hadn’t vanished on us.”
Balthazar? My focus momentarily wavers, but then I remember the conversation Riva related to the rest of us, asking Clancy about the three founding families of the Guardianship.
He told her that one of the three founders had pulled back from the guardians. I have to guess that’s who Richmond means.
At the implied threat, Clancy’s spine goes even more rigid. Richmond is purposefully not mentioning his own opinion, but I can taste in his tone that he’s been a vocal participant in the “talking” he mentioned.
“I’ve just landed a major contract,” Clancy says quickly. “Now that I have a better idea of how the shadowbloods operate, I’ll be able to keep them in line—and show just how much I can accomplish with them. You have to give me the chance to prove it.”
Richmond rubs his fleshy chin. “I’ll discuss the matter with the others. You can be sure we’ll be watching closely. If you?—”
A tug of my arm brings me back to the present. Dominic is leaning over me, his gaze intent.
“Thank you,” he says over his shoulder.
Clancy is approaching, carrying a glass of water. Through my cluttered awareness, I piece together what must have happened: Clancy was going to come over earlier, but Dominic diverted him for long enough to snap me out of my power’s daze.
Dom pats my shoulder. “Can you sit up?”
I push myself upright with a sway to sell my performance and sip the water. Clancy inspects me with his penetrating gaze.
