Zach lifted his head and saw her, but she stayed where she was, watching him while the sea tugged at her feet and the wind buffeted her. She could turn and walk away. And, without questioning how she knew, she realized that he would simply watch her go. But it occurred to her that if she walked away, then she would never knowwhy. Why he’d found her. Why he’d lied. Why he hadn’t left now that she knew the truth.
She walked slowly out of the sea and up the beach until she was standing in front of him, a little lower down the dunes so that she could look him directly in the eye. He was even more disheveled than he had been that morning. His lips were cracked, his eyes were bloodshot, and his hair was tangled.
“I’m not stalking you,” she said quietly.
Zach huffed out a surprised breath, not quite a laugh. “I think that should be my line.”
She tilted her head to the side, watching him. “Are you? Stalking me?”
“I was. But not anymore.”
“Why?” It came out more strangled than she hoped, and the stormy blue of his eyes softened. His lips turned down at the sides. With sadness? She didn’t know.
“Do you want to sit?” he asked, his voice low. “It’s a long story.”
Emma hesitated for a moment but then she sank to the sand a little way to his left. Too far away to touch. Close enough to hear what he said.
Zach looked out across the water for a long moment, and then he started to speak. “Your father brought blood Shadows back into the world. He’s hurting people, attacking them, while working toward making himself Archdderwydd.”
His words were blunt, brutal almost, and stark enough that she didn’t doubt them at all. God. Her father was attacking people. He wanted to be Archdderwydd.
“What do you mean?” She fought to keep her voice even and calm, not to give in to the fear that rose when she even thought about Gordon. “What are blood Shadows?”
“Fuck, Emma.” Zach shook his head as if he didn’t want to tell her. Or maybe he didn’t want to think about it at all. “You know all those rumors the Romans started about Druid sacrifices? Some of those stories were based on truth. The ancient druids used sacrifices to draw blood and they found a way to mix the essence of the person from their blood into a Shadow. Somehow Gordon learned how to do it.”
Zach shifted, tension bunching his shoulders. “Blood Shadows are more tangible, far more potent, than our usual Shadows. Gordon uses them to create wards that don’t fade—wards that can even stop our most powerful Seers from learning what he’s doing—as well as to make physical, tangible Shadows, and….” He let out a long breath. “And he uses them to control people.”
Emma’s hands started to tremble, and she held them into her belly. Waves of ice shuddered up her spine and settled into a nasty little stabbing ache behind her left eye. She wanted to deny it. Wanted to say that it couldn’t be possible. But she knew Gordon. She knew he would give anything to be Archdderwydd. And she knew his obsession with blood better than anyone.
Then she realized exactly how grim Zach looked when he mentioned Gordon using blood Shadows to control people. “He used them on you?” she whispered.
“Not exactly. James did it. James Williams.”
“My cousin?” It was a statement as much a question. What had her family done? She had seen the bleak look in Zach’s eyes, but she had never imagined her father and cousin could have put it there. “They hurt you.”
Zach’s shoulders hunched as if he was going to disagree. Instead, he murmured, “James was my friend. We were together in a Guardian triad.”
She could hear the pain scoring through his voice, although he did his best to hide it. His face was hard, his eyes shuttered, as if he was determined to keep his pain to himself. But she knew enough to know that a triad member was more than just a friend. A triad grew up together. They fought and bled together. They were a family.
“What did James do?” she asked quietly, almost wishing she didn’t have to hear it, but knowing she needed the truth.
The sun slipped slowly down behind them as Zach spoke. His voice was stoic as he told her everything. About his triad. About Kay and Ethan and the attacks they prevented. How they nearly lost Kay to James’s blood Shadows but Ethan managed to save her. How they fought to free Elizabeth who still hadn’t completely recovered. How James had controlled them with the blood Shadows, slipping dark chains around their minds, forcing them to attack each other, until they finally overwhelmed him.
“And now James is broken,” Zach said roughly. “The blood Shadows almost consumed him, and even with Ethan and Bryn both Healing him, he still screams through the night. It’s as if he’s locked in a never-ending nightmare.”
Her dreams. The screams and the pain. “When? When did this happen?” she demanded.
Zach’s jaw clenched viciously. “James has been working with Gordon for months, maybe even longer.” He took a breath and she could see him forcing himself to let go of his anger. “But the attacks themselves have only been going on for a few weeks, as far as we can tell. The night that James attacked us all was about a week ago.”
A week ago. That was the night her nightmares were at their absolute worst. God. She hadn’t understood, but she’d been linked to them all along.
“And you thought I was… what? Involved somehow? Helping Gordon?” Emma couldn’t quite keep the hurt and betrayal from her voice.
“I didn’t know.” Zach’s voice was rough and strained. “I was planning…. I don’t even know what I was planning. I had to get away from James. I needed some space, and Elizabeth had a vision about this place. Coming to find you seemed logical. I hoped to find you. To learn about Gordon from you. But then I….”
His sentence trailed away, and she remembered the blank coldness in his eyes. How curt he was, almost rude. His instant denial that he knew her. And she realized the truth. “You saw my Shadows.”
From the moment her Shadows appeared, she’d seen the horror on people’s faces. The disgust they tried to hide at first, perhaps out of some kind of pity or respect for her father’s authority. But later—after she’d been banned from every class, every Circle, every friendship, after her father walked away completely—the pity faded, and only horror and disgust remained.
