Her mouth opened and a puff of air came out as she tried to answer Thomas’s frantic questions of Are you all right? He held her close, rubbing her arms, trying to warm her up.

No.

No, she’d never be all right again. Not ever totally all right for having subjected herself to that. Worse, she’d gained nothing. There’d been no new puzzle piece. Nothing but a nightmare. Lady, and she’d just had flashes of moisture memory. How had Mira endured hearing the whole thing in real time?

She almost turned into Thomas’s chest, almost wrapped her arms around him to draw comfort. Isabelle knew without a doubt she’d find it there.

Warmth. Strength. Protectiveness. Comfort.

She stopped herself just in time.

Gathering every ounce of strength she had left and pulling the tattered remnants of her magick around her like a cloak, she pushed to her feet. “I’m fine.” The words came out without a quaver. Amazing.

Thomas rose and stared at her, unspeaking.

She turned her head and met his eyes. Isabelle could only hold the dark warmth of that gaze for a moment before glancing away.

“You won’t ever ask for help, will you, Isabelle? You think you can do it all on your own, don’t you?” His voice sounded brittle. “You think you’re so tough, but you’re not tough enough to let another person in, are you?”

Isabelle stared at the ground, completely unable to look up and meet Thomas’s eyes. The truth of his words twisted in her stomach. “I don’t need you to try and understand me, Thomas.”

His response was swift. “I think you do.”

“Whoa. What the hell?” Adam’s voice saved Isabelle from responding.

She and Thomas turned to see him standing about seven feet away from them. He’d gone stock still as he waved his hand in the air front of him.

Isabelle blinked. “Um, Adam?”

“There’s something strange about the air here. It feels…sticky.”

“Sticky?” She walked to him, followed by Thomas.

“Yeah. Like the air here has something in it, some kind of—”

“Magick?” Thomas asked.

Adam stepped back. “Feel it.”

Thomas stepped through the area that Adam had indicated. It was, Isabelle noted, very near where she’d seen the victims killed in the moisture memory. It may have been exactly where the two witches died, but she couldn’t be sure.

Thomas stopped and waved his arm. “Hmmm. It’s almost like this space is out of sync with the rest of the air around it.” He stepped to the side. “Isabelle?”

She stepped through. It was like walking through thick cobwebs. “It’s as if the molecules are vibrating slower than they should be. It feels like a warding, but not quite. More like a—”

“More like how a doorway to the demon dimension might open?”