This morning when she’d come downstairs, face bright and cheerful, eyes empty of memory, acting as though nothing had happened at all, Thomas had felt more removed from Isabelle than he had since they’d first met.

Damn it, he’d been a one-night stand to her. He had to admit it pricked his pride a little.

He downshifted too hard in his agitation and the car jerked.

Isabelle braced a hand flat on the dash and glanced at him. “Be nice to your car, Thomas. It’s a Mercedes, a fine piece of machinery.”

“We’re almost there.” His voice sounded tight. “Tell me if you see a parking place.”

A moment later she pointed to a spot near their destination—Boyle’s only known residence—and he guided his car into the space. No Harley was parked outside, but that didn’t mean the demon wasn’t home.

They peered out the window at the building. It was a nice place in an upscale area. Still, it looked like any other apartment building in this part of Chicago. It just went to show you how little you knew your neighbors. These people had no idea they lived near a demon. Thomas hoped no one had tried to borrow a cup of sugar.

That morning they’d gone to Thompson’s Motorcycles, where Simon Alexander worked. Posing as detectives, he and Isabelle had managed to persuade the manager that their loyal client, Erasmus Boyle, was a suspect in the attack on their accountant.

The manager had given up all the information on Boyle he possessed—license plate number, credit card numbers, home address, and phone number. He’d also told them that Boyle was a quiet, yet disturbing man. Boyle frequented the business often, having work done on his vintage 1977 Harley Davidson Low Rider, and buying and trading other cycles.

According to the manager he rarely said much to anyone that wasn’t related to his hobby. No one at the shop knew a whole lot about his personal life and the consensus was that the man was creepy. The manager and employees could’ve had no way to know that Boyle was a demon, but apparently they’d sensed the monster in him on some level.

The manager was able to give them a few helpful tidbits. For example, a bar that Boyle liked to frequent. A bar that, not so coincidently, was a hangout for many witches. Since Boyle could mask his demoness when he wanted, none of the witches in the establishment would be clued in to his true nature. Hunting was probably easy for him.

The trip that morning had yielded a few tools to track Boyle down, if the demon could be tracked down. Thomas had sent Jack, Micah, Theo, Ingrid, and Adam out on leads he wasn’t following up on with Isabelle—places where witches congregated and might draw Boyle.