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Andreas has hung back about a quarter of a mile away. We decided his ability to confuse our enemies wasn’t worth the possibility of him getting caught, since agility isn’t his strongest suit either. But he’s ready to race in and help however he can if it sounds like we need it.
And he’s already given us a huge advantage with the invisibility he cast over us.
Griffin, who’s never been much of a physical fighter, stayed with Drey. He’ll be casting calming vibes over the guardians and Balthazar from a distance to help the beginning of the confrontation go smoothly.
We’re all in this together, working toward the same goal. Connected not just by blood but by love and trust as well.
Living proof that we’re so much more than the monsters Engel saw us as.
Below me, the patrolling guardians come to a halt. The helicopter glides into view, stark black against the cloud-hazed sky.
I think of Balthazar’s smug face on the villa’s TV screen. Of his demands that I take his side as his daughter against everyone I care about.
Of his casual slaughter of Lindsay and Sully—just kids, just shadowbloods like us.
My shriek burns in my throat. My muscles tense in anticipation.
It doesn’t really matter who takes him down in the end, as long as we destroy him. But I can’t deny that I’ll be happiest if it’s me.
He insisted on being a part of my existence from the moment of my conception, in ways I’d never have asked for. So now I’m going to excise him from my life with as much compassion as he deserves: none.
As the chopper descends to the ground with a slight sway in a gust of wind, three men and a woman emerge from the trees on the other side of the concrete clearing to meet Balthazar. In their midst, I recognize the dour face and slumped shoulders of the man who scolded Clancy: Richmond from the board.
I assume the others are fellow board members. How large is their organization anyway? It seems like every time we pick away at their numbers, more spring up like heads on a hydra.
Their authority and their resources have dwindled, though. They’ve lost every member of their founding families, one way or another. They’ve lost all of the shadowbloods they’ve created.
Without us, they’re nothing. They can’t even track us down without one of our own.
The helicopter settles onto the concrete surface. The blades slow and go still, leaving an eerie hush in their wake.
Any second now, he’ll step into view—
A door opens with a faint squeak, but it’s on the opposite side of the chopper from me. I grit my teeth in frustration.
My jaw clenches even tighter when Balthazar makes his appearance in front of the helicopter.
At least, I assume he’s part of the cluster I’m seeing. Six tall men, each as brawny as our leonine former captor himself and at least half a foot taller, form a tight circle that Balthazar must be in the center of. He’s brought a literal human shield with him.
Is he only worried about physical attacks, or has he considered that we shadowbloods might be involved in this confrontation after all? Or maybe he isn’t completely sure that he has grabbed all the Guardianship’s test subjects, and he figures it’s better to take precautions about being seen.
Either way, I can’t inflict my shriek on him while those thugs are in the way.
Thugs seems like the right word for them. They’re wearing heavy coats that amplify their bulk, and a couple of them have shaved heads revealing the tattoos of skulls, daggers, and other violent imagery that decorate their skin. Another has a scar carved across his protruding brow from some past fight.
They must be some of his new shadowbloods—the criminals he stole from various prisons. One of them lifts his hand to scratch his neck, and I get a glimpse of a metal band around his wrist beneath the cuff of his coat.
My pulse thumps hard. I could shriek his bodyguards’ deaths and then move on to him, but as soon as any of them start to falter, he’ll know something’s wrong.
He might have that concentration-shattering device on him. We have earplugs in our pockets, but we felt it was more important to be able to follow the initial conversation when he shouldn’t know we’re here. I might miss an opening if I can’t hear what’s going on.
And who knows what other strategies he’s come up with?
No, I can’t attack yet. We wait until we have a clear shot at the man himself. That was the plan.
Although if this meeting goes far enough to shit that he heads back to the helicopter without any of us getting that chance, all bets are off.
As Balthazar’s huddle comes to a stop about ten feet from the board members, I let my gaze dart to the helicopter for a split-second.
