Page 117

In a flash, the Watcher scoops Maddox off his feet and throws him over his shoulder. “One human is trouble enough.”

Pop!

Then there were three.

I look at Elsabeth. She looks back.

She’s so similar to him, her slender face the same aristocratic shape and her eyes the same startling shade. But her gaze is guarded and calculating, where Lysander was an open book to me from the start.

We both stand at the same time. “I can —”

“I’ll leave you —”

I stop. “Let’s just both stay with him.”

I might be his — boyfriend, lover, whatever we call it.His Ezra. But she’s his sister. He’s known her for all three hundred years of his life. I barely even rate.

Elsabeth nods slowly. “Very well, human.”

“Ezra.” I hold my hand out. “My name’s Ezra Pine.”

Tentatively, she takes it. “Elsabeth. But you know that already.”

“He’s told me.” Her grip is sure and firm, and she lets go quickly. “He missed you. A lot.”

Her lips turn down minutely and her gaze goes to Lysander’s prone form. “He’s stronger than he thinks, to bear all this alone.”

I sit back down, a smile tugging at my mouth. “Yeah. But he hasn’t been alone.”

Lysander doesn’t wake up the next day. Plato helps move him up to his room, and Elsabeth and I take turns keeping watch over him. I want to know the second he’s awake and I bet she feels the same.

When I’m not in Lysander’s room, I’m mostly in the study. It’s got a big, comfy armchair, and it’s full of books — all the books Lysander read while he had nothing else to do. No one bothers me, not even Syril or the Watchers, but I have no clue what happens now.

Do I get to stay in the monster world? And if I don’t… will Lysander and I be split up for good?

It’ll have to mean the end of us. It makes my heart ache, but I won’t give him a reason to break the rules again and face whatever punishment they decide to dole out. He’s had enough trouble in his life.

The door opening breaks me out of my glum thoughts. It’s Elsabeth.

“He’s awake.”

I scramble to my feet. “Thanks,” I gasp, hurrying past her.

Lysander is upright in his bed, looking tired but totally alive. His eyes light up when he sees me and he struggles to sit up. “Ezra!”

“Don’t get up.” I hurry to his side. “Are you okay? Does anything hurt?”

“Nothing hurts, I’m just exhausted. What happened to your arms?” His hands flutter over the bandages.

“They’re just cuts from the glass.”

“Ezra,” he says sternly, but his voice quavers. “Did I hurt you?”

“No, baby. Well, a little bit, but it’s okay.” I tug him to my chest and kiss the top of his head. “You were scared. Hell, I was scared. When you collapsed, I thought —”

I swallow back what I was about to say, which is too dark to bring into this room.

Lysander’s arms tighten around me. “The azeroth’s sigil was broken already, or things could have been worse.”