“Isabel? What is it?”
She glanced around, disoriented, meeting Blaise’s bewildered stare. He looked up and down the corridor, his stance wary.
“We heard a scream. Are you all right?” Blaise prompted.
“Blaise?” she asked breathlessly. “Who was that wom—”
She stopped abruptly, her mouth hanging open in shock. Another man had just appeared to the right of Blaise’s shoulder, his height and breadth the exact match of her lover’s. Blaise saw where she stared and looked back at the man calmly.
“Oh my God. What’s he doing here?” she asked, pointing at a smiling Morshiel.
“I can explain, Isabel.” She blinked disbelievingly at Blaise’s even tone. He put out his hand. “Come with me. I’ll tell you about it in the apex room.”
She hesitated, confused by everything that had happened since she’d stepped off the elevator.
“Come with me, Isabel. Morshiel can’t hurt you. Not as long as I’m here. Trust me. I will always protect you. Always,” he finished quietly.
She went toward him, her hand outstretched.
The resonance of the crystal flooded Blaise’s awareness when he opened the door. He entered, Isabel at his side and Morshiel behind him. Morshiel closed the door and locked it.
The crystal’s energy pulsed into him. It vibrated the air, creating a subtle song. It seemed to hum at a higher frequency than it had in the past. There was definitely magic in the air tonight.
“Blaise, what’s happening?” Isabel asked when he turned toward her.
She looked beautiful to him in that moment, still wearing her costume and Egyptian-styled gold jewelry. Her gold-streaked chestnut hair had been pulled back close to her head in order to make room for her elaborate headdress, but for some reason, the sleek knot had been torn loose. Long tendrils parenthesized her exquisite face.
When Isabel held out her hand to him a moment ago in the hallway, and she’d come to him, so much trust in her dark eyes, Blaise had recalled his dream. The truth had hit him full blast. He recalled Elysse’s mausoleum and Isabel reaching out to him and Morshiel—no, it is not death, but life, she’d said.
He’d understood then, better than ever before. That puzzle had been the true part of his dream. Not the dream of a dead woman’s taunts, not the horror of his decaying body. Death was a part of life, after all.
It was folly not to embrace it.
Sometimes, the thing you fought against most in life was the key to your liberation. He had started to understand the truth last night, when he heard Isi’s story. Understanding had coalesced as he spent the night in Isabel’s arms.
He hoped desperately that he was right in what he was about to do. Part of him knew in the deepest sense of the word that he was. Still, fear curled at the edges of his consciousness. He pushed it aside resolutely.
“I don’t understand what’s happening,” Isabel murmured as she came into the circle of his arms.
He pulled her against his body. Her dress was relatively thin. He felt her heat seep into him. He spread a hand on her hip and rubbed the taut curve.
“I thought Morshiel couldn’t come within the bounds of Sanctuary,” she continued, casting a wary look over her shoulder at his clone. “I thought it was protected by Usan’s magic.”
“I can enter if the master of Sanctuary invites me inside.”
Isabel whipped around. Morshiel had spoken telepathically. Blaise had heard him, but apparently so had Isabel. Morshiel watched her with a hot, covetous stare. Isabel stirred in his arms uneasily.
Blaise had never seen Morshiel appear so scruffy before. Whiskers shadowed his upper lip and jaw, and the hair on his head had grown enough to look like a short buzz cut. It was strange for Blaise to see him thus—like something familiar, and yet utterly new at once. It was like seeing a new facet in the face that stared back from the mirror.
Isabel met his stare again. He did his best to appear calm, even though his heart was throbbing next to his breastbone.
“You are the master of Sanctuary,” she said in his mind. “Why would you ask a man who wants to murder you to come within your protected territory?”
He couldn’t seem to find the words. There was so much he wanted to tell her about what he’d come to understand last night after speaking with Isi, after making love to her.
“What is it?” she whispered. “What’s wrong? What’s happening, Blaise?”
He glanced uneasily at Morshiel and back to Isabel’s upturned face.