In witchdom, he was famous, or infamous, depending on one’s particular point of view. A witch didn’t cross Thomas Monahan and get away with it. Plus, he could be very Machiavellian in his protection of the Coven. That’s why she didn’t like that he had control of Stefan. She wanted Stefan punished, but if Thomas saw a more pragmatic path, a deal to cut that might help the Coven, Isabelle worried he’d take it. That’s why she’d made Thomas agree she be there during any Coven dealings with Stefan. She wanted to make sure nothing like that happened.

She couldn’t believe she’d been the one to allow them to finally capture the head of the Duskoff. Seems she’d been working with the Coven all along without knowing it.

She finished packing, paid some bills, and finally turned off the lights and snuggled into bed. Angela’s bed. Despite everything, Isabelle had been sleeping better here than anywhere else she could recall. Maybe because Angela’s energy still clung to this apartment, to these pieces of furniture, the blankets and sheets that now covered her. She’d miss the place when she was at the Coven.

With Thomas Monahan. His face flashed into her mind as she closed her eyes: his full mouth, his blacker-than-black eyes. Monahan was a good-looking man and she was not immune. Normally, a man like Thomas—controlling and single-minded—would turn her off. In the past she’d gravitated more toward artistic types: painters, musicians, and writers. But Thomas Monahan wore those type A qualities strangely well. He intrigued her. As a result, she found herself powerfully drawn to him, more than the natural water/earth magnetism should engender.

Earth witches were plentiful, so she frequently ran into male earth witches to whom she was attracted on a physical level. It was a phenomenon she’d grown used to dealing with and it usually faded quickly once a balance of magicks was found. What she felt for Thomas Monahan was far, far stronger than anything she’d experienced before.

She wondered if he felt it, too.

Remembering the hungry way he’d looked at her in the library earlier that day, Isabelle decided he did.

But how to deal with it? She’d gladly sleep with him if that would help. Isabelle had a feeling one night with that particular witch would blow her mind. She’d like to find out if her hunch was correct. Yet they’d be working together, so maybe it wasn’t the best notion she’d had all day.

Not that she was having particularly good notions lately.