by BETH KERY
Isabel shook her head, made temporarily speechless in her amazement.
“And your…” She began hesitantly, pointing at her incisors in order to refer to his sharp fangs as politely as possible. “Are the Magians drinkers of vitessence-rich fluids, as well?”
“Originally, no. When my race finally killed off fair Magia’s soul,” he said bitterly, “we were forced to combine our DNA with that of other creatures that could absorb vitessence in the manner of food. It was the only way we could maintain life. It seems strange, doesn’t it? That we willfully made ourselves into parasites? Such is the price we pay for our past sins.”
They both sat quietly for a moment, Usan lost in his thoughts and Isabel trying to make sense of all she’d learned in the past several minutes. She heard the knock at the door and called out to Margaret.
“Come in, Margaret. It’s all right.”
“I thought I’d clear if you’re finished,” Margaret said.
“Of course. Did you make Blaise suffer intentionally?” Isabel asked a moment later.
Margaret paused in her action of clearing dishes, listening. Usan’s blue eyes pierced Isabel from across the table when he heard her quiet intensity and yes…anger.
He sighed. “It’s amazing, isn’t it? How sin compounds sin? The answer to your question is yes, Isabel. I know how that must sound to you. You imagine me as being cruel and capricious, and perhaps I was. Suffering was a requirement for my means, one of the main ingredients in my alchemical stew. I was luckier than some of my brethren, for Blaise encountered his main source of suffering of his own free will.”
“He fell in love with a woman—Elysse de Gennere.”
Usan nodded. “Yes, and unlike you, Elysse spurned him for his unique nature. She ended her life, believing she was tainted by sin for giving herself to Blaise.”
“Stupid woman,” Isabel breathed, infuriated at a female long dead because she’d hurt Blaise to his very core.
“Do not be so harsh on her,” Usan said, leveling her with his shockingly alert gaze. “Elysse had as much to do with Blaise’s soul as you, or I…or even Morshiel.”
Margaret made a little sound of disbelief and distress. Isabel glanced at the older woman and noticed her pale face. She straightened and cleared her throat. She was irritated at Usan for allowing Blaise to suffer, but she understood, on some basic level, that Blaise’s suffering was what made him what he was today.
As far as she was concerned, Blaise’s suffering had served its purpose. It had been a necessity once for him to feel alone in this universe, damned…tainted.
But no more.
She must convince him of that. She must, or he would never embrace the future.
It was time to face one of the many miracles she’d learned from Usan’s concentrated information stream. After his explanation about Magia’s lost soul, she understood better why Usan thought the news so miraculous.
“How will we convince Blaise that the child I carry is his? How can I bring him back to me, and not just as his wolf-self…as Blaise?” Isabel demanded.
“Child?” Margaret squawked. “Lord Delraven’s? A baby? And when did you discover Royal was Lord Delraven?”
“Usan told me, but I believe I must have known deep down all along,” Isabel shared a quick smile with Usan. “And yes, Margaret. A baby.”
She picked up her glass of milk and drained it in one.
Four nights later, Blaise hovered in the shadows of the platform at the Aldgate East Underground station. He watched as the train slowed and four young people clamored through the doors, leaving him alone on the platform. He had completed his business in the surface world and longed to return to Sanctuary, to Isabel’s side, even if it was only in his wolf-form. He’d received the much-awaited news that Isi had sufficiently recovered to talk. Once he understood the secret Isi carried from Saint, he would know better how to act in regard to Isabel.
He leapt into the tunnel the moment the train roared past him, the zipper of his coat clicking on the metal.
Blaise had confessed his transgressions with Isabel to Aubrey, and explained the necessity for keeping a distance between himself and the temptation of Isabel. Like Usan, Aubrey had initially questioned why it was necessary to avoid her.
“Why do you not permit yourself some moments of happiness?” Aubrey had challenged.
“I cannot consider happiness until I understand what is happening. I cannot endanger Isabel further and claim ignorance as the cause. It is all too strange. If you had seen Usan’s shock when I told him about Isi coming to London, you would understand,” Blaise had replied. “I will not be easy until I speak to Isi.”
Blaise followed the tunnel east. Just before he reached the Whitechapel stop, he opened a nearly invisible door carved into the side of the tunnel and ducked behind it. He started to descend down flight after flight of stairs, the sound of his boots hitting metal in the long, nearly pitch black shaft making him feel like the only being left on the planet.
His loneliness had become like a toxin in the air he breathed. For the majority of his existence, he hadn’t noticed it because it was all he knew. His loneliness did not kill him, and it was an invisible thing, so he grew accustomed to it. Elysse had entered his world, and for a brief period of time, he’d recognized the gloom of his life.
It had altered him forever.
With Isabel, the experience had amplified a thousandfold. It’d been as if he basked in the warmest of sunshine and breathed the purest air. For a few short, precious moments, he’d shared in her light, her vibrancy. He’d experienced himself as unique…alive.
He knew he’d been alive only because it felt like death to be separated from her.
He would never forsake those moments, even if it did mean that he now knew the desolation of being without her. He’d reflected upon it much during these past days of enforced isolation. It amazed him to realize he would have changed what had happened with Elysse if he could. But Isabel?
No. If time were turned back, he wouldn’t be able to resist her, even knowing what he knew now. He hadn’t just consumed her blood, sweat and sex. He’d been transformed by the preciousness of her existence.
Five minutes later he knocked quietly and opened the door to a bedroom suite within Sanctuary. At first, he only saw Aubrey sitting at the edge of the king-sized bed, but then he saw that Isi was sitting up and conscious.
“You look much better,” Blaise said, heartened to see Isi’s improved color and alert gaze.
“Thanks to the doc here,” Isi replied, nodding at Aubrey. His voice still sounded very rough, but Blaise supposed he shouldn’t be surprised. The man’s throat had been cut clean through, after all. Perhaps he’d always carry a rasp in his voice for the rest of his days. “From what I hear, I would have been a goner if it weren’t for the two of you.”
“I only helped your natural powers of healing along a tad,” Aubrey said as he stood and placed two vials of what appeared to be blood in a metallic storage cylinder. “It’s Blaise who is responsible for saving you from Morshiel and sure death.”
Isi held out his hand toward Blaise, and Blaise shook it. “Aubrey tells me you’ve been here often to visit, but this is the first time I haven’t been out of it. So I’ll introduce myself and say thanks for saving my life at the same time.”
“It was nothing,” Blaise returned. “I’m just relieved you’re better. Saint will be so relieved to hear of it, as well.”
Isi leaned forward slightly in the bed, his eyes intent. He was a dark-haired man with a bold-featured, handsome face, and shoulders so broad he would have looked a natural playing linebacker for an American football team. He appeared to have been embraced by Saint when he was perhaps in his early twenties. This was the first time he had been well enough for Blaise to sense his personality. Blaise got an impression of a strong, frank, no-nonsense character.
“I don’t blame either of you,” Isi said. “This was Morshiel’s doing. Teslar would have done something
similar in a second, if he’d had the opportunity. Have you learned anything more about how Morshiel discovered who I was, or that I’d come to London?”
“No. I have come up with several possibilities, but none of them make any sense,” Blaise replied, his gaze flickering distractedly around the room and landing on Aubrey. “But then, so many things happening lately don’t seem to belong to any known pattern of our known world.”
“Like Saint conquering Teslar, even though he’d been told it was an impossibility to ever really kill him with his heartluster? And the fact that I was able to leave Saint’s territory, even though I’ve been confined to Saint’s world since I served him?”
“Yes,” Blaise said, snagging one of the chairs from the table and twirling it around. He drew it up near Isi’s bed. “Can we talk?”
“Of course. I’ve been wanting to talk to you. It’s why Saint asked me to come.”
“I thought as much,” Blaise murmured.
“Isi is well enough for it, but try not to keep him for too long and tire him,” Aubrey said, snapping closed a black bag where he kept his tools of healing.
“I won’t get tired. Look,” Isi said to Blaise. He opened his shirt. Blaise saw that a pyramid-shaped crystal rested on his chest.
“Ingenious,” Blaise murmured, his gaze narrowing on Aubrey. “But as usual, I’m stating the obvious, of course.
Aubrey shrugged. “He is still ingesting a small supply of blood from my stores, but the crystal is helping him heal. It was too difficult to bring Isi to the crystal room, so I brought a bit of the crystal to him. I hope it’s all right, that I cut the crystal?”
“If it’s helping him,” Blaise replied, settling in his chair. He wasn’t against Aubrey’s decision to alter the crystal. However, he was surprised by the fact that Aubrey hadn’t previously mentioned it to him. “Keep it intact from now on, though, until you and David and the others have studied it more thoroughly. We can’t really know how altering the structure of the crystal will change its resonance, isn’t that correct?”
“Yes, but I had good reason to believe the alteration I made,” Aubrey nodded at Isi’s chest, “was worth the risk. It’s made no observable change in the crystal’s energy output.”
Blaise studied his friend a moment before he replied. “I’d like to hear more about the results of your research later. David hinted to me that you’ve discovered true miracles to the crystal’s properties, not that we hadn’t already suspected it.”
Aubrey nodded briskly. Blaise started to address Isi, but paused when he noticed Aubrey stood next to him, unmoving.
“Aubrey, would you mind? I’d like to speak to Isi alone,” Blaise said.
Aubrey blinked. “Of course. My apologies. I wasn’t thinking. I need to go to the theatre anyway, so it’s best I was gone. We’re having a full dress rehearsal of Antony and Cleopatra tomorrow night,” he said, his tone altering to that of their familiar, brotherly banter. He gathered up his items. “Isabel has been as focused and determined as a general in battle once I told her how you’d managed to fill the royal box for opening night, Blaise.”
“Was she pleased?” Blaise asked, studying his hands in his lap.
“She was when I told her you were the one to arrange it.” He glanced at Blaise, his eyebrows arched in a small challenge. “You should stop by the theatre tomorrow and watch. Isabel is stunning in the part, although she has never been satisfied with her Marc Antony.”
“I thought you’d told me you were playing Marc Antony,” Isi said, puzzled.
“I am,” Aubrey said. “Isabel finds me a mediocre substitute, at best.” As usual, Aubrey ignored Blaise’s dark glance and sailed out of the room.
Isi gave him a rueful grin. “Thanks. Saint actually did request specifically that I speak to you alone.”
Blaise nodded in full understanding. “Now. What’s all this about?”
Isi took a sip of water, as though he were preparing his damaged throat before he launched into his story.
“It all started when Christina and Saint became closer,” he began. “She and Aidan, her ten-year-old son, had lived on Saint’s property for years in the coach house. We Iniskium knew Saint had special feelings, both for her and the boy. He was very protective of them. But it wasn’t until recently that circumstances altered between Saint and Christina.”
“Christina? Who’s Christina?” Blaise asked, sitting forward and placing his elbows on his knees.
“Christina Astor. Saint’s mate.”
For a stunned moment, Blaise just sat there. “Mate?” he finally repeated. “Why hasn’t Saint ever mentioned Christina to me, or any of the Sevliss?”
“I think, once again, the Magia have had their hand in that, although I can’t be sure. Maybe the Magia had nothing to do with it, at least in the past, because until a few weeks ago Christina and he weren’t together. I always got the impression Saint sort of kept Christina at a distance. He was aware of her, though. We all were aware of Christina.”
“What do you mean?” Blaise asked, even though he suspected the truth already.
“I think you know,” Isi said quietly. He glanced around his suite with a narrowed gaze. “I feel something similar here. It’s like being in Christina’s vicinity. Her vitessence never seems to diminish. I’ve never witnessed anything like it. It’s never-ending. Christina…radiates.”
Blaise nodded. Creatures such as Isi and him did not exist within the orbit of a woman like Isabel or Christina and remain ignorant of their pull. “So Christina and Saint became involved, even though he’d managed to restrain himself for a decade.”
“It seemed that after they did, everything changed. Teslar became aware of Christina, as well.”
“Teslar fought for her?”
“Yes. I was there. Saint managed to weaken Teslar in the fight, and he fled, but we all knew that after that, Teslar wouldn’t rest until he possessed Christina. Saint insisted that Christina and Aidan stay at Whitby, within Kavya’s protective wards. It was during this time that I noticed they grew closer. You must understand, Saint never told me much at all in regard to his relationship with Christina. You are hearing about my observations. There’s much I don’t know.”
“Much that Kavya has forbidden Saint to tell me and my brothers, as well,” he said darkly.
“Yes. That much I’ve gathered. When we made the chance discovery that our territorial boundaries no longer applied, Saint called me to him. He said that his voice had been bound by Kavya’s magic, but mine had not. He said that he didn’t believe the Magia understood that our territorial boundaries had been broken.”
“They didn’t, but they know now,” Blaise admitted regretfully. “Usan read my mind about you being here, in Sanctuary. I’ve never seen him shocked before, but he was at that moment. Don’t worry,” Blaise said when he noticed Isi’s anxious expression. “He promised not to do anything in regard to you being here. I don’t know why—Usan is a never-ending puzzle to me—but he seemed determined to see how events played out without altering the circumstances. If Usan says he won’t interfere in the matter, he won’t. I have never known him to go back on his word. Go on with your story. Saint called you to him…”
“He told me he regretted not having told me more in regard to Teslar, but asked me to come to you and tell you everything that I knew about the events leading up to Teslar’s demise.”
“How did Teslar die?” Blaise demanded. He couldn’t wait a second longer for the answer to the burning question.
Isi shook his head slowly, a hint of frustration in his eyes. “I wish I could say exactly. It happened after Teslar had kidnapped Christina and kept her prisoner in the underground. Saint managed to discover her whereabouts and he took all of the Iniskium with him for an attack. We fought the Scourge while Saint went in search of his clone and Christina. What happened while Saint, Teslar and Christina were together is a mystery. All I know is at that one point, most of the Scourge seemed to lose their vitality. They were easily
killed by the Iniskium when they’d fought like rabid beasts just seconds before. We destroyed them utterly on that day. It’s my belief—and Saint has never confirmed or denied this—that the Scourge were weakened at the same moment Teslar was destroyed. After the battle was won, Saint confirmed that Teslar was no more.”
Blaise sat back in his chair, stunned by the news. “It’s all connected with the woman—Christina. The change was wrought by her,” he murmured, somehow knowing what he said was true.
“Yes. I believe so, as well. And Blaise—” Isi shoved back the blanket that covered his torso, suddenly seeming impatient to be involved and active again instead of constrained by his condition. “There’s something else. Something important. In fact, I believe it’s the sole reason Saint chose me to come to you instead of the Iniskium chief, Fardusk.”
“What do you mean?”
“Saint told me something that to my knowledge, he’s never come right out and said to another Iniskium—even Fardusk. One night, Saint came upon me while I was guarding Christina on the Whitby grounds. He said that Aidan, Christina’s son, was his child.”
Blaise slowly became aware of the sound of his heart throbbing in his ears in the ensuing silence.
“You are sure? Saint told you he’d impregnated Christina?”
Isi flinched back slightly, and Blaise realized he’d stood and bellowed the question. The image of Margaret Turrow’s indignant expression if she’d seen his insensitivity around a sickbed flew into his mind’s eye unbidden.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to shout. It’s just so important. Are you certain Saint said Aidan was his son?” he asked, carefully modulating the volume of his voice.
“Very certain. He must have impregnated Christina years ago, and not understood that Aidan was his until that very night. He seemed filled with the news…as if he’d just discovered it or—”