Anya Bast - Witch Blood

Isabelle opened her mouth to reply, but someone rang at the Coven’s guard gate, cutting her off. Douglas, the witch who managed the house, emerged through a door, but Thomas waved him off and walked to the entryway console and pressed Talk.

On the front gate’s video monitor, an image of Catalina appeared. She was seated in a black convertible. “Mr. Monahan? I’m here to see Isabelle.”

Thomas looked over at Isabelle who had gone from looking stubborn badass to vulnerable in about two seconds flat.

She hugged herself. “If it’s about jewelry, don’t let her in.”

“It’s not about jewelry,” answered Catalina right away. “It’s about me and Isabelle.” She pursed her lips. “It’s private.”

Thomas looked at Isabelle again. She only nodded once, slowly.

“Are you sure?” Thomas asked.

She nodded again. “Goddamn it, yes.”

Thomas pressed the button to open the Coven gates and watched Catalina drive through. Then he took a couple steps toward Isabelle, holding her now uncertain gaze, as Adam walked through one of the doors leading off the entranceway. Thomas halted.

“I have a feeling about tonight,” Adam announced, walking toward them as he rolled up the sleeves of his dark blue shirt. “I think tonight—” He stopped short. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Isabelle answered, breaking Thomas’s gaze to look at Adam. “Everything is fine. Thomas didn’t want me to come and, now, conveniently, I can’t go.”

She turned and walked upstairs. “Can you please tell Catalina to meet me upstairs?” She stopped and looked at Thomas, her face grim. “And please be careful. I have a feeling about tonight, too.”

THE RED ROCK WAS A BAR ON THE FRINGES OFChicago owned by a witch and patronized by the same. It was also one of three witch-frequented watering holes where Boyle was known to hang out. Thomas had a hard time picturing the demon slamming back a cold brew, but apparently he enjoyed one now and again.

Or maybe it was the witches he enjoyed.

Adam entered the bar after Thomas and headed straight over to order a tall glass of Absolut. He couldn’t blame him. This was the last stop after a long evening of dead ends.

Thomas was sick of dead ends, sick of flying blind. If there was one thing in this life that made him insane, it was his inability to control situations. Especially situations that put people he cared about at risk.

The tattoo on his back twitched with the extra large store of magick he’d infused it with. Thomas wanted a fight, wanted something, anything , with Boyle. The entirety of his magickical body trembled with the urge to engage.

He scanned the room, resting his gaze on each of the patrons in the smoky, dimly lit space in turn. There were a few witches in the place, but it was mostly filled with nonmagickicals tonight. Again, he didn’t see Boyle.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath.

Every night they didn’t find the demon was another night a witch could be killed.

Micah laid a hand on his shoulder. “Let’s get a drink.”

He passed a hand over his tired face. “Sounds good to me.”

At the bar Adam chatted up an attractive brunette whose date Thomas had seen disappear into the bathroom a few moments prior. She was an earth witch of low ability, if Thomas judged correctly.

Thomas slid onto the stool beside him — the swords they wore weren’t long enough to impede sitting — ordered a bourbon, and tried to ignore the low sultry laugh of the woman Adam was busy flattering.

Thomas pulled his cell phone from his pocket and stared at it for a moment, deliberating over whether he should call Isabelle or not. He wondered how it had gone with her mother. His gut reaction had been to lock Catalina out of the Coven grounds when he’d seen her face come on the monitor, but as protective as he felt over Isabelle, it was not his place to interfere in her family life.

He stared at his cell phone for another moment and then snapped it closed. It was two in the morning. Isabelle was probably in bed right now. Jack had been instructed to stay in the living room until he returned. Thomas could only imagine how pleased Isabelle must have been to hear about those orders.

Even though it wasn’t his place to interfere with Isabelle’s family life, as head of the Coven it most definitely was his place to interfere in matters concerning her safety. Isabelle would simply have to get used to that.

If he was fucking her, that only made it more his concern.

If he loved her, that made it an imperative.

And he was coming to love Isabelle. Her chaos played a nice counter note to his control. He’d never realized how much he’d need a force like her in his life until she’d landed in the middle of it.

The bartender sat his bourbon and Micah’s drink down in front of them. Thomas picked up his glass and took a long swallow of the second-rate alcohol, enjoying the satisfying burn of it down his throat.

“You look tired, boss,” said Micah.

“Not sleeping well. I can’t rest for wondering when we’ll get the next phone call about a witch slaughter.”

Micah grunted. “I would’ve thought you weren’t sleeping for other reasons. Isabelle reasons.”

“There’s that, too.” Thomas shrugged a shoulder. “It’s just a thing. Isabelle will move on once this is over.” Whether he wanted her to or not.

“Think so?”

He swirled the amber alcohol in his glass. “Know so. All you have to do is look at her records to see that much. She’s a traveler. She doesn’t form attachments.”

No matter how much he might wish her capable of it, Thomas preferred the truth. And the truth was that Isabelle had been damaged long ago. Maybe she was too damaged for the love he was beginning to feel for her.

Micah went silent for a heartbeat before replying, “People change.”

The brunette’s date returned from the bathroom. He was also an earth witch of relatively limited power. Thomas listened to the ensuing brief jealousy-fueled altercation between him, the brunette, and Adam, and then watched the man drag the woman from the bar.

“Not most people,” Thomas replied.

Adam turned toward them with a satisfied look on his face. He grinned. “Got her phone number.”

“Case in point.” Thomas stared at the row of bottles in front of them and took another drink.

Micah snorted. “Don’t you get sick of breaking up relationships, Adam?”

“I don’t think of it like that. I can’t break up a relationship that’s not destined to be broken up anyway.” Adam wiped a bead of moisture off his glass. “Which is pretty much all of them, in my opinion.”

Micah pushed his glass away. “Damn, you’re both depressing the hell out of me tonight.”

Thomas glanced at him. “That’s because it’s a fucking depressing night.”

“I’ll drink to that.” Adam hoisted his glass.

Thomas fished some bills out of his wallet and tossed them on the bar. “Finish up, guys. I want to get back to the Coven.”

“Back to Isabelle, you mean,” said Adam, right before he drained his glass.

“Yeah, back to Isabelle.”

He and Micah finished their drinks. They settled their bill and headed outside to the car, parked in a lonely part of the nearly empty lot. Above their heads, the full moon lit their path across the parking lot. Gravel crunched beneath their shoes.

As Thomas hit the remote locks on the door, he heard a low moan coming from around the side of the building.

“What the hell?” whispered Adam.

Furrowing his brow, Thomas pocketed his keys and edged his way around the side of the building, trampling weeds and tripping over litter as he followed the low sound. Adam and Micah stayed behind him.