For the second time, she touched him voluntarily, resting the fingers of one hand on his hard, muscled forearm. His skin was warm and sprinkled with dark hair. He looked down at her hand and took in a quiet breath as if he might say something.

Her eyelids drifted closed as she waited for him to say what was on his mind.

The bedsprings creaked as he eased away. She hurt too much to lay flat on her back, so she curled on one side.

He must have thought she had fallen asleep, and she very nearly had. She watched him through her eyelashes as he began to walk out, but then he paused, his head angled to one side. She followed the direction of his gaze. For the first time she realized her purse sat on the floor, her phone and keys thrown on top of it.

Bending, he took her phone and pocketed it. Then he continued out the door.

He took her phone.

A cold knot settled in the pit of her stomach, but it was a problem that had to get in line, because meeting the imperative demands of her abused body had to come first. Closing her eyes for real, she let the darkness take her.

*     *     *

He’d fucked up. Molly was a distraction, and now he was going to pay for it.

Grimly, he stepped into the tech room to check his email and scan the security monitors. Everything looked quiet and normal. The protection spells that surrounded the basement felt solid, unbreached. Maybe they would block anyone who might try to trace her whereabouts by using the GPS on her phone.

But maybe wasn’t something he relied on, ever. Checking Molly’s phone, he found that she hadn’t bothered to lock it with a password. He wasn’t surprised. Most people didn’t.

That meant her texts, phone calls, contacts, and settings were easily accessible. She had the location settings turned off, but that wouldn’t disable the phone’s GPS.

Quickly he exported her contacts to his email address. After the transfer had completed, he took out the phone card, dropped it on the floor, and crushed it under his heel.

Then he sat to compose an email to his coven.

“The integrity of the safe house here has been compromised. Do not approach. Seek other options if necessary.”

If someone searched Molly’s phone records, they would find several calls connecting to his number, but that didn’t concern him. The number was registered to a local laundry service, and he had another phone specifically for the DA’s use.

His main concern was how likely it was that someone might have tried to find Molly over the past several hours. For decades he had felt like he was playing chess with the unknown. This was another move on the board.