The ripples of pleasure became waves. Her orgasm overtook her body and mind, just as Thomas had done. All Isabelle could do was ride it out. Pleasure coursed through her, making her back arch. She cried out his name and felt Thomas go, too, spilling inside her with a hoarse shout.

Afterward, they curled up together in the center of his bed—limbs and sheets tangled—and listened to the storm come to an end. Isabelle snuggled into Thomas’s strong chest and closed her eyes as his arms circled her.

Despite the uncertainty of the future, she was happier than she could ever remember being. To make the warm feeling in the center of her chest remain for the entire night, she pushed the truth that it couldn’t last far, far away.

Tonight she would hang on.

Tomorrow she had to pull away.

THOMAS SAT IN MICAH’S OFFICE, IN THE NORTH WING of the Coven. Micah and Isabelle sat at the same table, amidst scattered books and humming computer equipment. Tomes on quantum psychics, computer programming, and a variety of esoteric subjects stacked three rows deep surrounded them.

“We input what we knew about all four victims’ magick and magickical capacities and the order in which Boyle is taking them. By running that information through the software I tweaked, we found five possible patterns.” Micah slid a manila file folder across the table toward him.

Thomas flipped the folder open. Within were pages of data, graphs, and other information that Thomas couldn’t make heads or tails of.

“Here.” Isabelle flipped to the back of the file and pulled a couple papers out for him to read. “This breaks it down in normal people language. The rest of it is in Micah.”

She wouldn’t meet his gaze. Isabelle hadn’t looked him in the eyes for the last three days, not since the night of the storm. He wanted to shake her shoulders, make her tell him what was wrong.

Isabelle was the most confusing woman he’d ever known. Hot one minute, cool the next. Her fears were getting in the way of the feelings Thomas knew she had for him and he grew weary of it.

“Thanks.” He scanned the page. The second sheet simply had a list of names. Direct and to the point. That’s exactly what Thomas wanted.

“They’re forecasts,” continued Micah, “using the data analyzed. Those pages you’re holding list the names of the witches that might be at a higher risk of being taken by Boyle according to our calculations. Now, we don’t even know if Boyle is still out there, but I think we need to work on the assumption that he is.”

“He is,” answered Isabelle in a flat voice. “Can’t you feel him?”

Thomas glanced up to find her staring at the tabletop. “I can.”

Isabelle looked up and met his eyes for the barest of moments, then turned her face away.