Jacob casts a wary glance around at the rest of us, and I know what he’s thinking. As friendly as she’s being, we need to watch her—and probably we shouldn’t actually consume anything she gives us even if it looks safe.
Still, I can’t help relishing the idea of simply holding a mug radiating heat and breathing in the sweet steam rising off it.
As Engel approaches the kitchen, the five of us move like one being, both giving her space and keeping our own out of our honed sense of self-protection. We cluster to the right of the island as she passes by on the left and then gather around its far side, leaving it between her and us like a barricade.
I get the sense that she wouldn’t mind us sinking onto the cozy seats in the living room, but none of us is ready to relax anywhere near that much.
Engel moves through the kitchen with soothing ease, pulling out a pot and setting it on the stove, grabbing a measuring cup and a box of cocoa powder from the cupboards. As she gets a carton of milk out of the fridge, she shoots a soft smile our way.
“It’s impressive that you found your way here. But then you were always quick studies, the bunch of you.”
I can’t keep quiet any longer. “You had something to do with— You started the first facility. You were there from when we were born.”
She picks up on the question I’m asking before I’ve figured out exactly how to ask it. “I arranged for you to be born.”
“We’re not just people,” Zian says abruptly. “We have…” He raises his hand, extending his wolfish claws as he does. “We can do things no one else can.”
“Yes. You are very special, my shadowbloods.”
Something about Engel’s tone itches at me, but my mind latches onto that last word—one she used before. “What does ‘shadowblood’ mean? Whatarewe?”
“That’s why we’re here,” Jacob adds, setting his hands on the edge of the island. “We want to understand what was going on at the facility, how we turned out like this.”
Dominic speaks up, his voice quiet but steady. “And why.”
“I see.” Engel pours the milk from the measuring cup into the pot. “I suppose we have time to get into that story.”
We all lean a little closer in anticipation. A crimson sheen glimmers in Andreas’s eyes. He’s searching her memories even as he listens alongside us.
Engel’s lips purse, her expression momentarily tightening as she adds more milk to the pot. Then she turns to face us while she unscrews the lid on the cocoa powder.
“You know that you don’t bleed exactly the way a regular human does.”
I touch my arm where I scratched open my skin so many times. “There’s smoky stuff that comes out too.”
She inclines her head. “Like shadows. That’s why I’ve always thought of you as ‘shadowbloods’ in my mind.”
As she spoons some of the dark brown powder into the pot, my pulse skips a beat. “Our tattoos.” A moon for night—for shadows? And a droplet… of blood?
“Yes, that was the inspiration for the design, although it wasn’t my idea to imprint it on you.” Her mouth tightens again. “But as for what and why… Many years ago, when I was younger than you, I found out that there are creatures that enter this world that are pure shadow. They don’t bleed red at all, only that dark haze.”
“Creatures?” Zian prods.
Engel swirls a whisk in the pot with a faint clinking as it taps the sides. “All the things from fairytales and folklore, all the monsters and myths we’d have liked to believe were only made up. They sneak into our world and blend in among us as well as they can, using us, preying on us…” She sucks in a sharp breath. “And barely anyone knows.”
Uneasiness prickles over my skin. Monsters and myths… with powers like ours?
“But some people do know,” Jacob says. “Youknow.”
“Yes. And those who know push back as well as we can. My sister and I joined a group of those aware, under the name the Company of Light. Light to combat the shadows. We thought it was very clever.”
Engel’s expression darkens. “After some time, it became clear to me that we couldn’t do enough. Even if everyone in the world knew, it might not be enough to protect humanity when the fiends we were up against had so much strength and were so difficult to destroy.”
“So you made us,” Andreas says with a distant quality to his voice. My head jerks toward him, but his gaze is distant too, still with the reddish glow over his irises.
He must be talking about something he’s seen in her memories.
He inhales sharply and goes on. “You thoughtwecould fight them if you made us strong enough.”