Page 392 of Shadowblood Souls
The answer soars up from the depths of my mind like a signal flare: It’s us.
That’s all there is to it, isn’t there? He’s spent his entire career working to get us under his control, and now we’re essential to taking on the savior-hero role he’s obviously been dreaming of.
There has to be a way I can use that fear.
I reach into my shirt to pull out my cat-and-yarn necklace, allowing myself to carefully click it open and snap it back together. The simple, familiar rhythm melds with the rumble of the van’s engine.
The start of a plan forms piece by piece. I can’t see how it’ll end, because so much depends on exactly how Clancy reacts. But the longer I sit with it, the surer I feel.
“When we get back to the base,” I say quietly, “wait for me. Then do what you need to.”
Jacob squeezes my hand from the seat next to me, and Zian lets out a grunt of acknowledgment from behind. Behind the wheel, Griffin doesn’t give any visible sign at all, but a flicker of emotion passes through me, all warm acceptance.
A wordless message that says all it needs to.
Clancy’s base squats on the side of the dirt road, a military-style truck attached to a long trailer with most of his monitoring equipment, both of them painted in camouflage colors. As we crest one last hill before it comes into view, his even voice crackles from our radio.
“Park twenty feet away and walk the rest of the distance. Enter through the back of the trailer.”
We’re not using the guns we grabbed, then. They’re all too big to conceal under our clothes.
Griffin cruises to the indicated spot and parks. We clamber out and head toward the trailer.
I hang back, letting the others go ahead. Dragging my feet across the ground as if I can’t quite lift my feet.
Clancy knows I’m not dead, that my monitoring band must have simply been broken. He’ll have no idea what else might have happened to me.
He’s probably already been on edge, hoping that my ability to speak coherently means there isn’t an outright emergency.
Well, he’s going to get an emergency now.
As our procession comes up on the attached truck, I purposefully stagger. My knees buckle under me.
I fall, catching myself with my palms in the dirt and swaying. A groan breaks from my lips.
“Riva!”
I don’t think Jacob even needs to fake his panic. He lurches back to me as fast as his wounded leg allows, his face paling.
Zian follows with a defensive snarl, his gaze skimming the landscape as if searching for new foes.
I slump over on my side, letting my head loll. And through the slits left by my nearly closed eyelids, I see Clancy burst from the truck.
I hadn’t known if he’d simply send Dominic racing over or come himself. Maybe I should be gratified that he cares enough, even if it’s for totally selfish reasons, to stick his neck out.
Although it might not even be his motivation alone. Griffin heard my instructions too—he’s smart enough to have realized an extra shove of panic would work in our favor.
Even so, a sudden pang of loss ripples through me. This man has been a monster to us, but he’s also the only guardian who’s ever attempted to give us anything remotely close to a real life.
We’re giving up on that dream the moment I go through with my plan. We’ll be nothing but fugitives again—nothing but monsters ourselves.
To them. I know, with a resolve that steadies me through the pang, that we can be so much more for ourselves than even our new keeper ever imagined.
Another guardian hustles out behind Clancy. As they race over, I shudder and go limp again.
“Come on, get her legs—we’ll carry her into the back for Dominic,” Clancy says to his underling, his voice taut with concern. He bends over to grasp my shoulders.
My claws slide from my fingertips. It’s now or never.
