James could see it all unraveling. Kay would defend Elizabeth. Gordon would attack Kay. Ethan and David would go insane. The Council would pile into the melee, taking advantage of the disarray. People would get hurt. And Emma and Zach still needed more time.
He had to stop this.
He cast one last look at Riley, hoping she could see in his eyes how much she meant to him. He sent a fervent prayer into the Shadows that she, at least, might survive. And then he put out a hand and stopped Kay. This was his responsibility.
Kay paused just long enough for him to step up to the front while covering the others as best he could and dragging all the many eyes onto him.
James drew out the moment, giving Emma and Zach as much time as possible. He strolled toward Gordon, his thumbs hooked in his pockets as if he didn’t have a care in the world.
He stopped in front of the man who almost destroyed him and looked him up and down. For the first time, James realized that he was almost an inch taller than Gordon. It was a strange shift in his perception to suddenly notice that this man—who he had feared and loathed and wanted to be good enough for with all the desperation of an abandoned child—was not actually as intimidating as he’d always seemed.
James allowed his lip to curl, his Shadows looping softly around his fists and up his arms like vambraces on an ancient warrior, and looked down at Gordon. “I want you to know how much I hate you,” he said, proud of how smoothly his voice came out. “I think I’ve always hated you. You took everything from me.”
Gordon scoffed. “Don’t be pathetic, James. This display of spite only makes you look like a child kept up past his bedtime. I gave you a chance to stand with me in the new Order. You could have been a commander, respected and admired by everyone. The fact that you couldn’t cope is a reflection on you and your failings.”
James let the words settle. Once, they would have hurt. They would have goaded and manipulated him, just as Gordon intended. Not anymore.
“You poisoned me,” James replied, slowly finding the truth. “You knew what would happen when I used the blood Shadows. You knew they would kill me. And you didn’t care. Just like you didn’t care when you killed your wife and tortured your daughter. You’re nothing more than a murderer.”
A muffled gasp traveled through the Council and Gordon took a menacing step forward, his anger returning. “Abigail’s death was her sacrifice,” he spat. “She made all of this possible.” He turned his cold gaze on the Council. “And you would do well to remember who made your lives possible too.”
Yes. That was exactly what James wanted them to remember. He turned to face the Council. “You should be ashamed. Your insatiable need for power directly contradicts our entire purpose. The Healers’ Shadows hold the light. The Seers’ Shadows reveal the light. And the Guardians’ Shadows protect the light,” he growled. “You’re supposed to be the best among us. But everything you’ve done has betrayed those values.” He strode closer. “Youbetrayed our Order.”
“That’s not… we didn’t…,” Evelyn started.
“Yes, you did.” David stepped forward. “But you can fix this. It’s not too late. Abdicate your positions and stand trial before the Order. Give us Gordon. Be done with this insanity.”
“You have no proof—” Evelyn started again, but James cut her off. “I will stand evidence against you all.”
“You don’t know anything,” Maeve argued, her pinched features even tighter than usual. “Isn’t that right, Gordon?”
“Of course he doesn’t.” Gordon glared at him with pure derision. “He’s just a nasty little boy who no one ever wanted. Nobody in the Circles will care about anything he has to say.”
Somehow, even after everything, that still hurt. James tried to control his flinch, but something of his pain must have shown, because Riley’s voice rose from behind him, loud and angry. “Iwant him.”
God. He felt her claim resonating all the way down to his soul, but he didn’t dare look at her. Not when it meant turning his back toward Gordon.
“I know about the blood Shadows,” James said quietly.
Gordon laughed. “The Council signed off on those, boy. They understand—”
“I know about all the lies you told to Westminster,” James continued, cutting him off. “The Order may not be interested, but the government you defrauded surely will be. And you should know that I would do anything to protect my true family. Anything. If I have to go prison in the Duine world to set this right—to take you down—I will.”
“That’s enough.” Gordon’s face lost the last trace of mocking amusement as he lifted his hands. In one, Shadows the inky blue-black of a raven’s wing coiled and slithered. And in the other was a stone dagger. Its blade was dark and gleaming, and very, very wrong.
And James recognized it.
Gordon’s Shadows leaped between the blade and his hand in a churning mass of darkness, and James watched, transfixed. Held captive by years of forgotten terror that now clawed against his subconscious, bleeding into the present.
“You will do no such thing.” Gordon flung his hand out, shooting a Shadow shaped like a black dart straight into James’s heart.
It lodged in his chest like a shard of ice as he stumbled back. He tried desperately to call his own Shadows, to hold firm to his strength, but they fluttered uselessly around him as the splinter of dark Shadow split into multiple coiling tentacles that burrowed under his skin, running through his veins and around his brain.
Fuck. Somehow, Gordon was drawing blood Shadows from the stone blade.
“You are calm,” Gordon muttered, an eerie echo that surrounded James even as his vision clouded. “You are calm. And you’re going to listen to me.”
Everything burned. The words, the splinter of Shadow, the darkness that flickered over his vision. Shudders wracked his body as his skin broke out in icy sweat. Acidic nausea climbed up his throat, and it was all he could do not to fall to his knees, weeping as the pain climbed through every cell in his body.
