Dark Shadows crawled and writhed in a thick slurry of glinting splinters, steaming, brackish water, and sludge-like Shadows. The roiling mass curled and quivered as it collapsed in on itself before finally settling onto an oily pool of stagnant darkness.
They’d done it.
They were both breathing hard when Emma looked up at him, her face tight. “I think they’re here.”
“Did you hear something?”
She gave a sharp shake of her head. “It’s just a feeling.”
“Good enough.” He glanced down at the oily mess. There was no way it was usable.
She grabbed his hand, tugging him toward the exit, and they ran through the trees together.
Zach’s heart thudded in his throat as he ripped the door open and they fled down the narrow stairs. Emma ran beside him, still carrying the silver bowl.
It took forever. He’d left the door at the bottom of the stairs unlocked and Emma ran through it ahead of him, staggering out into the bright light of the corridor.
The strange heavy silence of the glade splintered, and suddenly all the noises of the house rushed back. And with them came the unmistakable cadence of voices raised in distant disagreement.
Emma darted ahead of him, keeping to the sides of the corridor and stepping lightly on the thick carpet. She skirted the wide landing where the gleaming marble stairs joined the upper floor, and then she paused.
Below them, a man was talking. “Is everything set for Wednesday?”
Hell. Zach threw a worried look at Emma. That was only two days away.
“Of course.” Gordon’s irritation echoed through the open lower foyer.
“I think we should discuss—”
“There is nothing to discuss. I’ll meet with the Prime Minister this week. Then, on the solstice, I’ll be introduced as his personal advisor and take control from within the government. We’ll be ready to reveal ourselves on Samhain as planned.”
“But what if—” a woman’s voice began.
Zach’s Shadows bunched, swirling around him in agitated waves. Gordon was down there. The man who’d robbed him of his mother. The man who’d robbed Emma of her mother, her home, even her Shadows. Who had hurt James. And he was with the Council who had lied and covered up Gordon’s secrets. Men and women who were responsible for preventing Zach’s mother from seeing the Healers she needed.
He took a small step closer to the stairs, his Shadows solidifying into a lethal sword. He was going to rid the world of their evil. No matter the risk. No matter the cost. No matter that he couldn’t possibly beat them all.
He looked over his shoulder to tell Emma to run while he went down to face Gordon and his supporters. But then he looked at her pale, determined face.
He’d sworn to himself that he would never let her down again. He’d promised he wouldn’t walk away from her or expect her to save herself at his expense. And he knew, without doubt, that if he went down to face Gordon, Emma would follow him.
He opened his hand and let his sword fade into the air. Gordon and the Council weren’t worth it. More than that, he had a team to rely on. Afamily. People who loved him and who would never expect—or want—him to fight alone.
“Zach?” Emma whispered.
He gave her a quick smile as their Shadows circled, tightly intertwined. “Let’s go.”
She gripped his hand and turned, but before they could move, a strident voice called from below. “What was that? I heard a noise on the upstairs landing,” Gordon muttered as footsteps started up the staircase.
They both sprang forward. Their footsteps thudded on the thick carpet as Emma fled into her room. Zach flung her door closed behind them, twisting a Shadow key in the lock and then jamming up the hole with a thick flurry of Shadows.
Gordon pounded on the door behind them, his furious roar following them as they ran to the window. Thank God, they’d left it open earlier.
“Shadow ropes,” Zach called over his shoulder as he flung coils of Shadows through the window, winding them like massive vines around every handhold they touched and binding them even more tightly around his own waist. Jumping was their only option.
He reached for Emma’s hand, ready to go together, but she stepped out of his grasp, shaking her head.
He spun to look at her, his heart stuttering in his chest when he saw the pale wisps of Shadow she had coiled over her arms. “What are you—?”
