He roared as he threw everything he had into forcing the blade down. Riley’s clean Shadows flooded through him giving him a vital boost. And, finally, they pushed the dagger into the vervain-filled pool.
Shadows thrashed and churned, and visions of past horrors flicked through his mind, but he forced his fist to open.
The blade fell, tumbling through the water unnaturally slowly. But every millimeter of space between him and the knife cleared the pressure on his heart.
He stumbled to his feet, dragging Riley with him, and together they stepped away from the frothing pool.
Slowly the Shadows quietened. The churning water stilled, returning to smooth, unruffled darkness. And the horror that had invaded his mind retreated and faded away to nothing.
He felt raw, scoured from the inside, but Riley was in his arms and his triad’s Shadows still circled them, offering support. He was breathing. He was himself.
James didn’t dare touch the dagger again. Its hold on him was broken, but the blood Shadows were too familiar. Too close. The paths they’d carved out of his soul were too vulnerable. But they couldn’t risk anyone else finding it either. The dagger was still profoundly dangerous. “We can’t leave it.” His voice was guttural and exhausted.
“I’ve got it.” Kay pulled off her T-shirt, leaving her in a black sports bra, and then used her Shadows to haul the knife from the water before quickly bundling it in the cotton shirt and wrapping the bundle in a casket of swirling midnight-blue Shadows.
It was as safe as they could make it for now, but its dark presence still hung heavily in the room.
James pulled Riley even closer, soaking in the sight of her beloved face. He almost didn’t want to ask, but he had to know. “Did he… is David…?”
“He’s alive.” Riley lifted a hand to cup his cheek. “His heart had stopped. The knife’s Shadows were spreading through his veins… almost as if it was alive.” She shivered. “But when you pulled the blade out, we were able to knit the tissue back together.”
Thank God. James would never forget David throwing himself into the path of the blade. Not as long as he lived.
“David’s still unconscious,” Riley continued gently. “He’s… not doing well. We need to get him out of here, take him somewhere safe.”
They had to go, but first James held Riley a little tighter, needing to touch her. Needing to feel her and smell her and hold her. Needing her skin on his with a potent desperation. He’d thought he’d touched her for the last time. Now he needed to soak himself in her and prove that wasn’t true.
“Any sign of Gordon?” Kay asked tiredly, the wrapped knife in her hands seeming to weigh her down even further.
Riley didn’t answer for a long moment, and when she did it was almost too quiet to hear. “He got away.”
ChapterNineteen
Riley tuckedin the last of David’s blankets, her Shadows tuned in to his still form. His Shadows were sluggish and pale, undisturbed by the fluttering of his Circle as they hovered over him.
Only her years working under high pressure kept her hands from shaking. God. She’d come so close to losing James. And losing the man who’d been almost a father to him… who still could be the father they both deserved. Provided he lived.
David hadn’t woken during their harried flight from Belgravia. His breaths were shallow, and his heart rate was still far too high. He whimpered, and she patted his hand gently, keeping her emotions under control by sheer will.
David had a chance. Whether there was permanent damage, and whether David could survive it, were questions she couldn’t answer. But, for now, he was alive. And so was James, who was leaning against the doorway—a little removed from his group of friends—watching quietly as she finished tending to her patient.
They’d returned to the Circle House as the morning sun cleared the top of the roofs, and London came to life around them. They’d had a short, fierce debate as to where to go. But, in the end, they’d agreed. With the Council broken and Gordon missing, no one was going to prevent them from going home.
A quick call to her parents on the way back had confirmed that the Order was in disarray. Gordon’s demand that the London Circle be treated as outcasts was in direct contradiction with their claims—and evidence—that Gordon had brought blood Shadows back into the world.
No one knew what to believe. And hundreds of years of indoctrination had left them looking to the Council for guidance. A Council of sycophants and cowards who, for all Riley knew, were still huddled together in Gordon’s foyer, incapable of dealing with the disaster they had created.
It was a huge bloody mess. One they had to resolve. But not when everyone was still reeling from the battle they’d lived through. Not with Gordon somewhere out in the world, free to wreak whatever havoc he still planned.
David was settled in his bed, which had been their first priority. Next, everyone would take a couple of hours to shower and get changed out of their sweat-stained, mud-streaked, blood-spattered clothes and grab some food. Then they would reconvene, ready to hunt down Gordon.
They had to find him before he could get close to the Prime Minister and grab power through the Duine.
Riley stepped back from the bed, casting her eye over David once more before focusing on Bryn. The older man looked gray and haggard. “I can stay if you need me,” she offered gently.
Bryn gave her a tired smile. “Diolch yn fawr. Thank you, Riley, for everything you’ve done. We are truly blessed to have you as our Circle Healer.” He pulled a chair up to the side of David’s bed, his Shadows gently soothing the unconscious man as he gave her a small nod. “You go ahead. I’ll hold him.”
Elizabeth pulled the curtains closed over the window and then climbed onto the bed to lie beside David, her arm gently looped over his chest. Her face was drawn in the low light, her Shadows held tight against her body, as if she didn’t dare let them go.
