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.