“I have some clothing essentials here, but none of it’s fancy.”

“Trust me.” She gave him a dry look. “Fancy is overrated.”

“You’re going to have to do without underwear until we wash what you’re wearing or get you something new.” When he turned back to her, the sight of her nearly nude body stopped him in his tracks. Still clad in a lacy gray bra and panties, she was as covered as any modem woman on a beach.

But they weren’t on a beach. She stood in a private place where he often slept, and she was beautiful everywhere, with a racy-looking body, long, delicately muscled legs, and high breasts that he immediately wanted to cup in his hands.

But if he’d thought her face had looked bad, the marks of damage on her body looked worse. He had targeted her concussion with most of the healing spells, but some of the magic had filtered down to other injuries. It was enough to advance the bruises and contusions to what would have been the second or third day of the healing process—right about at the point when they looked and felt the worst.

“Brace yourself, babe,” he said bluntly. “There’s not much of a mirror in the bathroom down here, but you look like shit.”

The edges of her full lips turned downward as she ran fingers over the blackened mottling over her narrow rib cage. Her voice was quiet. “It’s nothing that won’t heal.”

“You were lucky.” He handed her the clothes. He still wanted to touch her, only this time the desire was almost overwhelming. “There’s soap and shampoo in the shower stall and towels in the cabinet. Call if you get dizzy or need help.”

“Will do.” She gave him an unfathomable look before turning away.

There were only three rooms in the big basement. They bordered a large open area that held a washer and dryer, the furnace, and the water heater. The bathroom was located right by the bedroom. She went around the corner and shut the door.

He waited until he heard the shower going. Then he pulled out his phone to text Anson. Report.

Anson responded swiftly. I’m surveilling the house. They’ve put out the blaze. Police and fire crew are monitoring while the car cools. There’s an ambulance and tow truck present. I haven’t heard talk over the police scanner about finding a body or transporting someone to the hospital. I think Sullivan disappeared before they got here.

Either Sullivan hadn’t been as hurt as Molly had thought and had left on his own, or he’d had help.

Josiah’s fingers moved rapidly over the screen as he replied. Nobody would bother transporting a dead body. Sullivan isn’t dead—or at least he wasn’t when he left the scene. Question is, did he have help?

Agreed. Any further instructions?