On the nuances that shifted in her intelligent gaze like ripples over a deep, sky-blue lake. On how she took the agony from the healing spells without making so much as a goddamn peep—and he had known strong men who had cried under that kind of pain—or how the need to kiss her properly had begun to pulse in his blood like a fever.

He felt infected with her. It eroded the purity of purpose that had driven him through so many decades. Other thoughts crowded in, like wondering what it would be like to sleep late, tangled in the bedsheets with her long body resting against his. Or how luminous she would look if she were truly happy.

Maybe he hadn’t liked the man he had seen when he had taken a good, hard look at himself. He had turned single-minded like a shark intent on the most important meal of its life. So what? Who fucking cared?

When he and his coven finally destroyed their quarry, they would be doing the world a goddamn service. Then he could go sleep on a beach in the Maldives for a year and decide if he cared about living the rest of his life.

But he wasn’t finished yet. Taking an exit ramp at this late stage in their hunt Was. Not. An. Option.

He couldn’t even be done for one goddamn evening. Halfway back to the apartment, he punched Steven’s number. When Steven replied, he told him about the package of documents he needed for Molly’s new identity.

“Send me photos for a new passport and driver’s license,” Steven said. “Digital is fine. I can print them up here, and I’ll FedEx everything to you in forty-eight hours.”

“That’s fine. I’ll take photos tomorrow after work. I also need Maria and Henry to deliver a reliable car to the safe house. I don’t want Molly to see their faces. They can park it at the end of the lane and leave the title work in the glove compartment. Have them text me after they make the drop-off.”

“Got it,” Steven said. “I’ll let them know. What else?”

“That’s it.” He would have to do the rest himself. Sometime in the next two days, he needed to stop at a bank to make a withdrawal.

They talked a few minutes more, then he ended the call. By that point he’d arrived back at the apartment where he spent the rest of his evening organizing the case files he had brought home and preparing for the staff meeting.

When he finally finished, it was midnight and he was facing another short night of sleep. He took a half hour, as he always did, to review everything that had happened and what he thought might come.