Jack stepped up behind her and encircled her in his arms, his hands coming to rest on the small bulge of her belly.

Isabelle got to her feet, her gaze fixed on Mira’s face. She hugged herself. “Boyle murdered another witch, didn’t he?”

Mira shook her head and licked her lips. “He murdered two.”

For a long moment the room was completely silent. Mira’s mouth opened and closed. Perhaps she was stalling before she expressed her thought, hoping it would somehow disappear.

Thomas tried to make his voice as gentle and warm as possible. “Please just say it, Mira.”

Silence dominated for another moment before Isabelle pushed out the words, “Who were they?”

The sentence exploded from Mira in a rush, “A twenty-one-year-old water witch named Brandon Michaels and an elderly fire witch named Mary Hatt.”

Mira turned in Jack’s arms for comfort and showed them her back while she continued, her words muffled against Jack’s chest. “I was so tuned in to anything having to do with Boyle that I heard the entire murder. I became locked in it, mired down in a kind of psychic quicksand. It was…” Her voice broke and she trailed off.

Mira didn’t have to explain. He understood what she’d just vicariously lived through. Her words punched him in the solar plexus. He closed his eyes and bowed his head. Beside him, Isabelle took a shuddering breath.

Focus. He had to focus on what they could do.

“What else do we know?” Thomas’s voice sounded forced to his own ears.

For the first time, Jack spoke. “Since Mira was able to glean their full names, I took the liberty of having Ingrid organize the witches in the area of the killing to go to the scene immediately. I understand Adam and Theo are on their way there now. She’s going to start the process of notifying next of kin, too.”

“How long ago did you learn of this?”

“Minutes ago.”

He glanced at Isabelle, who stared at a fixed spot on the floor. She’d tightened her arms around herself and her face had gone white. Was she fighting memories of finding her sister? Thomas wanted to go to her, to slip his arms around her, but his intuition told him that was the last thing she wanted right now.

He moved to her anyway. There was a difference between what she wanted and what she needed. Thomas wasn’t sure if Isabelle had any comprehension at all about what was best for her.

He slid his arms around her. She stiffened against him and Thomas thought for a moment she might push him away, but she relaxed, melting against him and resting her head against his shoulder.

“I tried so hard to save that little girl and he just chose other witches to take her place.” Her whisper sounded like silk and sand at the same time. “Lady, two instead of one.”