Gordon had arrived so close to the moment of their success that he must have timed his arrival to the only moment the dagger would be out of their control. He’d brought Diedre with him, and now he had the weapon within his grasp.
Riley reached desperately for James, but they were blasted apart by a storm of Shadows. Darts cut through their skin and punctured their flesh while ravens raked and stabbed at them, driving a wedge between them.
Kay, Zach, and James raised their hands, channeling their Shadows into their interwoven web with a surge of concentrated power. It streamed upward to snare the lead raven—and the blade in its claws—and drag them brutally back to earth before Gordon could reach them.
Gordon roared with fury. Somehow, impossibly, his Shadows seemed more tangible than they had before. And even darker. The flicker of blue was almost entirely swamped in inky black.
He was viciously strong. Too strong. If he got hold of the blade, they would never be able to stand against him.
Riley pulled her Shadows into a wide shield and rushed to protect her friends.
James threw himself against the Shadows that battered him, his face drawn in a desperate snarl. But he was too far away and their Shadows drifted apart from one another as they poured everything they had into battling Gordon’s attack.
Everything was chaos and Shadow-filled darkness, and all she wanted was to reach the man she loved.
The man sheloved.
God. Why hadn’t she told him?
ChapterTwenty-Three
David openedhis mouth and screamed.
His blood was on fire. Hisworldwas on fire. He was held down, helpless, surrounded by pain and fury. Blood Shadows churned through his chest and up his throat until there was nothing he could do but let them pour out of him.
Cool hands settled on his shoulders. A steady voice murmured quiet instructions while another pair of reassuring hands settled on his feet. Slowly, the fire receded until he was encased in Shadows. Brilliant, almost too bright emerald green intertwined with the soothing shades of the deep forest. And through them, a dark ruby flashed and spun.
He whimpered as he settled into their keeping, letting them take control, letting his mind rest.
He drifted there, cradled in the healing Shadows. Perhaps he slept, but his dreams were full of sacrifices and dark visions.
Was this what James had endured for so long?
David woke again. His skin crawled, and his throat ached, abraded and raw. He forced his eyes to open. He was in his room, the curtains closed, but it was far too bright. Everything glittered nauseatingly. Auras and shadows undulated and shone as he slowly blinked against the lights that flashed and burned.
He gingerly turned his head, his muscles screaming, trying to see through the mirage. Bryn and Ethan were watching over him. It was their hands he’d felt. And Elizabeth was there too.
She rested in a chair beside his bed. Her head had dropped, and silvery strands of hair covered her face, but her hand rested on his chest, a gentle warmth.
“Liz?” His mouth was desperately dry, and all he could manage was a cracked whisper.
Her head flew up, and she immediately slid closer, her free hand coming up to rest against his cheek. “You’re awake.”
“What—” He swallowed trying to bring moisture to his parched mouth. “—what happened?”
“You were hit with thousands of years’ worth of blood Shadows to the heart,” Bryn replied quietly.
David grunted. “I still… feel them,” he admitted. He twisted slowly, trying to focus on Bryn sitting at the head of the bed. Even that careful movement was a battle against his twitching muscles and heaving gut. “Pull them out?” he whispered slowly. Forming words was exhausting.
Bryn’s expression was somber, his eyes gleaming wetly as he reached out a hand to cover Elizabeth’s fingers where they rested on David’s face. The depth of emotion in their eyes—fear, remorse, sorrow—was terrifying.
“I’m sorry,” Bryn murmured. “I don’t know if we can.”
“Something?” Surely there must be something they could do. They were the best.
Bryn opened his mouth and then closed it again as Elizabeth shook her head, turning helplessly to Ethan.
“James only used the blood Shadows three times,” the younger Healer explained gently, “and only ever at a surface level.” Ethan swallowed. “Yet it still took us days to Heal the scars they left behind.” Ethan’s voice lowered, his forest-green Shadows spreading to hold David more securely. “Gordon’s blade was soaked in thousands of years of blood Shadows, and he threw it straight into your heart with the intent to kill. We think….” He glanced at Bryn as if for confirmation before continuing. “We think the blood Shadows are still responding.”
