Witch Blood

THREE

SHE LOOKED BETTER AS A BLONDE.

Thomas stepped into the Coven library, a room that also served as his office and took stock of the woman sitting on his desk, one of her long legs swinging. He’d been expecting Isabelle Novak to show up sometime.

In order to figure out how no one had recognized her while she’d been beguiling Stefan, he’d had Jack show him pictures of her when she wasn’t all glossy and polished for Stefan’s liking. Now she looked more like herself. She’d changed her hair back to its natural color, a strawberry blond, and wore a pair of faded jeans, a black knit top and a pair of scuffed black boots.

Normally she wasn’t this gaunt. Thomas suspected she’d purposely lost weight in order to insinuate herself into Stefan’s world. Or perhaps grief had shaved some pounds off her. In his opinion, she looked better with a little more weight on her.

Her hair was long and glossy, framing an oval face with porcelain skin and large brown eyes. Her mouth was full, expressive. She wore nearly no makeup and did little to her hair beyond brush it. She had a natural type of beauty that required little embellishment and seemed to care nothing for fashion. Yet she possessed a manner that screamed self-confidence.

Not only was she gorgeous, she looked innocent. Yet Thomas knew better. Miss Isabelle Novak had a reputation for trouble. The research he’d done on her had revealed that right away. From even her earliest days in grade school, Isabelle had left a trail of trouble behind her — getting into fights, talking back to teachers. Her older years revealed a passionate, impulsive woman who couldn’t stay in one place, couldn’t hold a steady job, couldn’t form relationships.

She was also a strong water witch. Thomas could sense the strength in her from across the room. Ripples of volatile emotion, the ebb and flow of psychic power — they were the hallmarks of the water witch and they were impressively palpable in Isabelle Novak.

He closed the door and spoke as he turned toward her. “Violence is an easy way to mourn someone you’ve lost. Don’t you think it’s better to save a life in order to honor a life lost?”

She stood, pressed her hands together, and bowed. “Buddha, I’m pleasured to make your acquaintance.” She straightened and put a hand to her hip. “I didn’t come here for a lecture.”

She was pretty. Too bad she was such a pain in the ass.

Thomas squelched his annoyance and walked toward her. “You need to look at the big picture. He can help us—”

“Help us? When does that man start helping anyone but himself? When does he do anything that’s not in his own best interests? And when does he pay for his crimes, Mr. Monahan? When?”

“Call me Thomas.”

“Mr. Monahan, Thomas, whatever.” She waved her hand, dismissing his overture. “Are we going to wait for Stefan to die of old age, then? Should we let him get away with everything he’s done?”

“Of course not.”

“Really? The non-magickals aren’t going to touch him, so it falls to us to do it, his peers. Yet I haven’t seen the Coven or the Council acting to take care of it. Wasn’t that one of the reasons why the Coven and Council were created to begin with? Aren’t you guys supposed to be handling the warlocks and punishing crimes?” She slammed her hand down on the desk. “He doesn’t deserve to live his life any way he sees fit, Thomas.”

“If you’re finished ranting, can you sit down and listen? I have things to explain. Do you want a drink? I have just about anything you can order in a bar and you look like you could use one.”

She shook her head, whirled, and paced to the far floor-to-ceiling window and the high bookshelves that framed it. “I wasted a month of my life preparing to make Stefan pay for what he did to Angela and you come rushing in and snatch it all away from me.”

He took his gamble, remembering the quiver of hesitation he’d sensed in her that night and the apprehensive look on her face. She’d been pissed as hell, but unsure about actually killing Stefan. “How did it feel, almost taking his life?”

She turned without a moment’s uncertainty. “Horrible! It felt horrible. Cold and empty and not at all like I thought.”

Of course. Isabelle might want justice for her sister, but she was no murderer. “You hunted the demon, Jack tells me.”

“I hunted the demon for over a month after I f-found Angela.” She shook her head and hugged herself. “I could find no trace of it anywhere.”

“So you went after the person you perceived to be responsible for the demon’s existence.”

She nodded.

“Please sit down, Isabelle.” He nodded at one of the soft leather chairs in front of his desk.

She hesitated a moment, her eyes flashing and probably a few sharp words poised on her tongue. It was clear she didn’t like authority and perceived him as such. Still, she swallowed what she was about to say, walked across the room and sank into the chair.

Thomas sat on the edge of the desk in front of her. “It is our intention to catch and kill this demon, Isabelle. The Council has had a directive to apprehend Stefan ever since the incident last winter. We’ve been watching him for a long time, waiting for him to relax and let his guard down. You helped us to finally get him. He’s in Gribben now, in prison. We’re not going to let him out. Ever.”

“Jack told me, but—”

“But Stefan needs to stay alive. At least for now. He can help us apprehend the demon by providing information. The Duskoff are the people who have had the most interaction with demons. They’ve studied them in order to understand the creatures they’re using. After he’s helped us, he’ll stand trial for his crimes, along with the thirteen other warlocks who participated in the circle last winter at Duskoff International. They will be tried and punished. That means either life imprisonment or death.”

She snorted and crossed her arms over her chest. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”

He sighed. “Don’t make the mistake of thinking you’re the only one who wants to see Stefan pay. And don’t think you’re the only one who wants that demon dead.”

“What did Stefan do to you?”

“Well, he tried to kill my cousin last winter for starters.”

“Mira Hoskins.”

He nodded. “And the first witch the demon killed, Melina, she was someone I knew.” He paused. She had been an old lover. It had been a long time ago, but Melina had been special to him. “She was a good friend. She had kids, a husband.”

Isabelle was silent a long moment before she spoke. “Do you think the demon picked her on purpose? It’s a strange coincidence she should be an old friend of the leader of the Coven.”

“That’s exactly why we need all the information from Stefan that we can gather. We don’t know how or why the demon is picking his victims at this point. We don’t know much of anything beyond the fact that the demon is killing witches.”

She chewed her lower lip, deep in thought. “Usually the demons the Duskoff raise have their fun and go home. They don’t stick around for twenty-five years hiding, then all of a sudden pop up and start killing off witches.”

“We’ve just noticed the demon never returned to his dimension, but the Coven archivist is going through old newspapers and finding evidence the demon hasn’t been hiding at all. We think he’s been killing humans for sport the entire time. We just never noticed him until he started targeting witches so heinously.”

“Yeah, heinous is one word for it.” Her hands tightened so hard on the arms of the chair they turned white. “He’s been killing the witches in some kind of demon ritual, hasn’t he? He’s stealing their power for something.”

“We think so, but we’re not sure. All of this is reason to use Stefan to gain information. He knows more about demons and their world than we do and it’s imperative we find and kill this demon before he murders more people.”

“So you think we can find him.” Her tone was caustic. “Thomas, that demon has disappeared. I’ve moved heaven and hell trying to locate the monster. I have dedicated every waking breath to it since Angela was killed. All I want in this universe is to rid the world of that thing and prevent any more witches from being murdered.”

He folded his hands together. “And maybe with Stefan and the Duskoff’s information, we can accomplish that.”

Her mouth snapped shut. “You’re the boss, I guess. You’re the head of the Coven, after all. You must know best.” Her tone clearly said she didn’t believe that.

“I’m sorry for your loss, Isabelle, and I understand your need to punish someone. However, we need to put our emotions on hold right now and proceed rationally.”

“Yes, empathically I can tell you’re good at that. Putting your emotions on hold.”

“And I don’t need any empathic ability to tell you’re not.”

She turned an interesting, angry, shade of red. “You think I’m not acting rationally?”

“No, I was speaking in general terms, about all of us. We all want revenge, Isabelle. We all want to punish this demon, but we need to make our moves carefully.”

“But you believe I don’t have a good handle on my emotions.”

“You strike me as a passionate person and I think you’re grieving. But I believe if you consider what Stefan can bring to us in the long run, you’ll see that we need to keep him alive, no matter what our hearts want.” He paused. “Anyway, I don’t think you have a revenge killing in you, Isabelle. That’s a compliment, by the way.”

Thomas had never seen such warm brown eyes go so cold, so fast. Her beautiful face tightened as she stared at him for a long moment before speaking. “I see your point but that doesn’t mean I have to like it. By the way, I don’t appreciate the psychoanalysis, since I never asked for it.”

“I call things the way I see them,” he answered with a shrug.

She stood. “I like you, but you’re kind of a prick. Do you know that?”

“So I’ve been told. Numerous times.”

“I’m sorry you lost an old friend.”

He glanced away, his jaw tightening. “Me, too. I’m sorry about your sister.”

She walked to him, so close he could see the pain in her eyes when she answered softly, “Thank you.”

They stood in silence for a moment. The woman had beautiful eyes, like melted chocolate. They were back to warm again. She leaned forward, so close he could smell her musky perfume as she cocked her head to the side. “Do you even have pupils?”

He blinked in surprise. “Last time I checked.”

She stared into his eyes for a moment and her lips parted. Her head dipped a little closer to his and her gaze dropped to his mouth. For one wild moment he thought she might kiss him.

For the next wild moment he thought he might kiss her.

Where that impulse came from, he wasn’t sure. Maybe it was the water-earth attraction affecting him. Earth and water had a natural sexual attraction sometimes, as did fire and air. It lasted until the magicks found a balance. He’d felt that artificial pull toward Isabelle ever since the limo.

Or maybe it had simply been too long since he’d been with a woman.

She straightened and backed away, breaking the strange, momentary spell. “Did you even notice I was nearly naked in the limo?”

He cleared his throat. “There were other concerns.” He paused. “But, yes, I noticed. It would have been impossible not to notice.” Those long legs, that flawless pale skin and the fullness of her breasts swelling from her silky demi bra. Thomas might be head of the Coven, but he was a man first.

A satisfied little smile flickered across her lips. “Good.” She turned toward the door.

What a strange woman. “Stay,” he said simply before she could leave.

She turned back around slowly, wearing a questioning expression.

“Stay here at the Coven for a while. Work with us. Help us deal with Stefan. Help us find the demon.”

Isabelle Novak possessed abilities uncommon to most water witches. Not only could she manipulate the water in a man’s body — a deadly skill she’d demonstrated readily on Stefan — she could access moisture memory, tapping into the water of a given area and replaying recent events. She could be valuable to them.

She pursed her lips and thought about it for a moment. “You’ll make me play nice.”

He smiled. “I’ll make you play effectively, not necessarily nicely.”

“I want to be in on any official Coven communication with Stefan. Any contact you have with him in Gribben, I want to be present.”

Thomas rubbed a hand over his chin for a moment, thinking over the issue. “I don’t see why not.”

She considered him, worrying at her lower lip between her white teeth. “Give me time to tie up a few loose ends and I’ll come in.”

Absurdly, he wondered what kind of “ends” she meant. He knew she wasn’t married, but did she have a boyfriend?

Damn it, why did he care?

He nodded. “Just tell them who you are at the front gate and Douglas will meet you. He manages the house. When you return there will be a room ready for you.”

“And a prisoner to torture.” She clapped her hands together and rubbed them with glee. “If we play good cop, bad cop, can I be the bad cop?”

“After what you did to his dick, Stefan probably thinks you’re the baddest thing around.”

She smiled broadly. “Now I can die happy.”

Lady, what had he just done?