David closed his eyes for a moment, as if wrestling with something. When he opened them again, they were bleak. “I’m forbidden from discussing any of this with you. Honestly, I’ve already admitted too much. The Council has decided to wait for more information before they’ll agree to reveal any of what we know.”
That was madness. The Council knew something that could help, but they were refusing to share it. “But surely—"
“I’m sorry, Kay. This is just as frustrating for me. I’ve been spending all my time searching through old records no one will discuss, trying to have meetings with people who are suddenly unavailable.” David leaned back and folded his arms over his chest. “I agree that you need to know. But right now, it’s not possible. I—we—have to follow the Council’s decision. Please believe me, I’m working on it.”
Damn. Everything about this felt wrong. Was this what Elizabeth had sensed? Kay held on to her agitated Shadows. “The Council is making a mistake.”
David’s jaw clenched. “Now you sound like Elizabeth.”
“Good,” Kay agreed. “She knows what she’s talking about.”
David flinched, the movement almost too subtle to see, and quickly hidden. “I have to uphold the laws of our Order, even if you and Elizabeth disagree with them. And so do you.”
She gave him a long look before replying reluctantly, “Okay.”
“But Kay, I want you to know that this is very serious. If what I suspect is true, then we are all in danger.” He dragged a hand down his face. “I hate that you and Elizabeth are involved in this.”
She sat quietly, unsure of what to say. In all the time she’d known him, she’d never seen him so unsettled.
“Is there any way you could convince Elizabeth to come and stay in London for a few days until we get this all sorted out?” he asked.
Kay couldn’t help her snort. “I’m sorry, David, she’s never going to agree to an extended stay in the Circle House.”
“Just ask her to come for the day then.”
Kay shook her head. “It was difficult enough to convince her to visit next week. She won’t come, especially not with you refusing…I mean, unable… to share any information and threatening her with the Council. Hell, she tried to call you and you didn’t answer.”
David opened his mouth to reply, but she cut him off. “It would be better for you to get the agreement you need first and have something you can discuss.”
He gave her a long, cool look. “Fine,” he grumbled. “But I need you both to be extra vigilant. And you, Zach, and James need to prioritize your training.”
“Yes, of course.”
His mouth twisted down at the sides as his eyes darkened. “I still need you to keep this to yourself for now. You can’t discuss any of it, not even with your triad.”
Damn. She was sick to death of secrets.
Kay nodded reluctantly. “Okay. But then we’ll definitely talk about everything properly next week? And include James and Zach?” She phrased it as a question, and thankfully, he nodded.
“Yes. I’ll make sure the Council understands how serious this is, and how important it is that we prepare our Guardians properly.”
“Thanks, David.”
“Alright. Go and get those bruises looked at.” He gave her a grim smile. Somehow, it was not reassuring.
ChapterSixteen
Ethan satin his car and leaned his head back against the rest. God. When did Thursday night turn into the start of the weekend? It was a heaving, chaotic mess of a night with more than the usual number of difficult patients. It had started with a teenager who thought it was hilarious to spit and finished with an idiot who had tried to prove his manliness by smashing a beer bottle against a wall, only to learn that it’s always the broken glass that wins.
It didn’t help that Ethan hadn’t been sleeping well in the days since he’d seen Kay. One night with her in his bed, and he’d somehow lost the ability to sleep there by himself. On top of that, his world was now overrun with Shadows. They were everywhere he looked, swirling and pulsing, heavy with emotion. He’d tried turning them off, but he hated the hollow feeling, the knowledge that there was more just beyond his reach.
Using his Shadows in his treatments had been stunningly successful. Bleeding stopped and bruises faded. Patients improved rapidly. But not knowing what he was doing and figuring it out by trial and error, all while desperately trying to look like nothing unusual was going on, was exhausting.
He’d done his best to stay in touch with Kay, calling when he could and sending her texts and climber jokes. But it didn’t feel like enough, and if there was anyone in the world who knew the havoc that shift work and long, unpredictable hours could have on a relationship, it was him.
If they even were in a relationship.
Were they?
