“I don’t—” she started and then stopped. Her own blood had been made to attack her. That was what had wrapped itself around her Shadows, strangling them for so many years. “I didn’t remember,” she whispered eventually.
Gordon didn’t bother to reply as he turned toward a wide marble staircase that formed the huge centerpiece of the house. Standing at the bottom and looking up, she could see that it curled around a stunning crystal chandelier before opening onto the floor above and then continuing up to the higher floors.
“How did James control the blood Shadows?” Emma asked, horror strangling her voice. “If we can’t touch them, I mean.”
Gordon led her up, answering without bothering to look at her. “Your blood was fine for James. Well, aside from the backlash, but that was to be expected.” He shrugged. “You can use the blood Shadows I’ve developed from James’s blood… once your Shadows are actually working.” He said the last words with a sneer.
Emma swallowed the acid that climbed up her throat. “Why only our blood?”
“I tried with norm blood, but it can’t be used to create the blood Shadows,” Gordon informed her. “I discovered that there’s an enzyme in Dru-vid blood that the Shadows need to attach to. Presumably, it’s the enzyme that allows us to see the Shadows in the first place. Honestly, I deserve a Nobel prize for the work I’ve done.”
He sounded like he was giving a lecture. So smoothly confident. So utterly convinced of his own brilliance that he couldn’t even hear how horrific his words were.
“Why me and James? Why our blood, I mean,” Emma forced herself to ask.
“You and James both come from the same line of extremely strong Dru-vid. Your mothers were sisters, both with the same excellent lineage.”
“Is that…. Is that why you married her?”
“No. I didn’t even know until later. Your grandfather told me just before he died. He showed me the path.”
“And my mother?” Emma asked, almost too terrified to know.
“She refused to help,” Gordon muttered. “She didn’t believe.”
Emma stopped in the middle of the staircase, desperately trying to drag air into her lungs. “So you killed her.”
“I did not kill her. I lo—” He cleared his throat. “I wanted her to change her mind. I wanted her to see what we could be. We were meant to become Archdderwydds together.”
“You hypnotized her,” Emma whispered.
Gordon leaned down, looming over her from above her on the stairs. He was so dark and angry, so close to being the monster from her nightmares. She couldn’t help grabbing her locket and clinging to it.
“I tried to show her. I didn’t realize her own blood would hurt her. I tried to save her with your blood, but it was too late by then.” Gordon huffed. “When your Shadows finally came in, I realized what had happened. The blood Shadows made from your blood recognized you and burrowed back into you, strangling your Shadows. That was the key.”
Emma was frozen on the stairs. “You did kill her. She died because of you.”
Gordon growled. “She diedforme. She loved me. She made the first sacrifice. Her death made all of this”—he waved his hand around the opulent stairwell—“possible. And soon I will be the Archdderwydd, as was always my destiny.”
Gordon turned and led her up the remaining stairs. “I will lead our Order back to greatness. Abigail set me on the path. Your blood has helped the journey—the blood passed down to you by your powerful ancestors. Exactly as it was always meant to be.”
Emma shivered as Gordon led her onto the landing. “It’s why we have to keep ourselves pure,” he said. “Abigail showed me how important it is to keep the bloodlines strong.”
The full impact of his earlier statement hit her. “If Duine and Dru-vid had children together, they would inherit the enzyme. Anyone could be a Shadow Weaver.” Damn.Thiswas the reason why the Order insisted on so much secrecy—even now, when the danger of the Romans and the witch hunts were long gone.
Gordon gave her a withering look before continuing up ahead of her. “The Dru-vid were chosen. We have these abilities because we are better than the Duine. And that’s how it must stay. When I’m Archdderwydd, we’ll start tracking bloodlines once more, like the ancients did.”
Emma had to concentrate in order not to stumble as Gordon led her onto the third floor and down the corridor. She’d hated her father before, but now she knew what true revulsion was.
“This is your room,” Gordon muttered. He opened the door at the end of the corridor and led her into a blandly neat guest room with a blue duvet and a nondescript watercolor painting on the wall. A door opened into a tiny bathroom with only a toilet, a shower that could just about fit one person, and a minuscule basin.
Gordon held out his hand. “Phone and laptop.”
She pulled them out and handed them over.
Gordon grunted and waved for her to lift her suitcase onto the bed. “Open it.”
Emma sighed, but she opened her suitcase and spread everything out over the bed, letting him see that there were no hidden phones or any technology at all. Just her favorite dog-eared historical romance, a bag of toiletries, and a couple of neatly folded shirts and jeans. She hadn’t taken much with her to Wales, and now the small pile looked rather sad.
