Page 620 of Shadowblood Souls
Dominic shrugs helplessly. “I don’t know. He didn’t say the rest of youcouldn’tcome, so I guess that’d be fine. But he specifically wants me there.”
My mind spins through the possibilities. Dom’s powers are focused on healing—and, at the opposite end, draining energy from living things. They don’t seem to work all that well on full shadowkind, though.
Was one of the younger shadowbloods badly injured? So badly Rollick thinks regular medical practices wouldn’t be enough, but not so badly they’ll be okay for the couple of hours until Dominic gets there?
I push to my feet. “We’ll all go. If there’s been some kind of trouble, the rest of us might be able to help too, whether Rollick thought so or not.”
After several years of similar trips, we move together in well-honed synchronicity. In case we’re not back tonight, I set out extra dry food for Snowball while Zian fills a big bowl of water. We grab the knapsacks we leave packed for hasty departures and hustle down to the lobby just as the cab Andreas called for arrives.
The jet is waiting for us at the airfield. The pilot nods as we board with no sign that it’s a problem all six of us have arrived. The plane is only in the air for about half an hour before it lands by a waiting SUV.
The vehicle roars over to a property in the middle of desert terrain, the yard surrounded by a stucco wall with a matching house sprawling behind it. I recognize it as one of Rollick’s homes, a place I’ve only been to a couple of times.
Why does he want to see Dominichere? None of the shadowbloods should have had any reason to be hanging out with the demon this far from their usual stomping grounds.
None of Rollick’s usual shadowkind colleagues have appeared to give us an explanation. I’m no less confused when the chauffeur parks the SUV outside the garage.
Griffin speaks up in a soft tone, obviously drawing on his empathic abilities. “Rollick is upset—worried. I’ve never felt him like this before.”
I swallow hard. There isn’t much that seems to rattle the demon even a little. What are we walking into?
As we emerge from the car, the front door swings open. Rollick himself stands on the threshold in his human-like guise, his classic good looks marred by his grim expression.
His gaze slides over us as if he barely sees us—other than Dominic. He beckons toward Dom. “This way. Thank you for coming so quickly.”
Dom hurries ahead of the rest of us to join Rollick. “What’s this about? Is someone hurt?”
“Not… exactly.” Rollick drags in a breath, and I don’t need to borrow Griffin’s emotion-reading power to know he finds this conversation hard.
He pauses outside a closed door down the hall and turns to us. “You’ve heard me mention Quinn before.”
Zian frowns. “Your… girlfriend? Issheokay?”
I’m not sure “girlfriend” is the best term for the woman that as far as I know Rollick has been devoted to for the entire time we’ve known him, but he hasn’t told us much about her one way or another. She’s completely human, and he seems to prefer to keep her as far from shadowkind business as he can.
Except for today.
Rollick’s mouth twists. “She has a heart condition. She’s had two transplants in the past thirty or so years. Her current hearthas been giving her some trouble… I don’t want to put her through another operation if I don’t have to.” He pauses. “She might even refuse now that she’s already gotten two second chances.”
And as flexible as the demon’s sense of morality often is, he isn’t going to force something like that on the woman he loves. A pang that’s both sympathy and respect reverberates through my heart.
Dominic’s jaw sets with determination. “I’ll see what I can do.” He reaches for the buttons on his shirt and then hesitates. “Does she know what to expect?”
Rollick nods. “I told her the basics.”
When Dom shrugs off his shirt, revealing the light brown skin of his lean chest, the only trace of his tentacles visible on his back are two scar-like marks on his shoulder blades where those extra appendages protruded in the past. As Rollick opens the door for him, the sinuous, suckered lengths of flesh push to the surface and ease out to trail down his back.
He’s found he can do some minor healing with just his hands, but for anything more intense, he has to use the tentacles.
“I’ll need something to draw energy from,” he starts.
“I’ve already got a couple of potted palms in the room,” Rollick says before Dom needs to go on. “If that isn’t enough, we have other options.”
It doesn’t feel right for the other five of us to tramp into Quinn’s room after them. Thereisn’tanything any of us can do to help a failing organ.
I catch a glimpse of a woman sitting up on a hospital-style bed, pale blond hair tucked behind her ears and a bright but weary smile aimed at Rollick and Dominic. Then the door clicks shut in their wake.
The tension that niggled at me earlier digs deeper. I might not know much about Quinn, but it’s clear Rollick cares abouther just as much as I do all five of the men connected to me through our shared history and the marks dappling our chests.
