She responded to his hot, urgent mouth without a flicker of hesitation. He demanded she part her lips to admit his tongue, but she was there first. She slanted her mouth across his and slid her tongue within to spar and stroke. His hand found the hem of her shirt and pushed beneath it, where he used skillful fingers to massage the tense muscles of her back. Her body let go of a degree of her tension with a shudder.

Brushing his lips languorously against hers for several moments, he broke the kiss and cupped her cheek. “Maybe you can practice on me.”

Isabelle stumbled back, feeling a little breathless. No man but Thomas had ever made Isabelle Novak feel breathless.

She swallowed hard and tried not to let uncertainty show in her eyes as she remembered the panic attack she’d had in front of the Coven the other night and the inviting length of the driveway leading away from the building.

But she didn’t want that anymore. That fear. That loneliness and self-reliance that she’d been wearing like a protective coat of armor for as long as she could remember.

Gazing up into Thomas’s eyes, she realized just how much she wanted him. Not just for the sex, but wanted his strength and caring, his protectiveness and intelligence.

She smiled, letting the uncertainty bleed away from her eyes. “I want to try, Thomas.”

He leaned in again and kissed her senseless. She hung on to his shirt, fingers fisted, as his lips worked over hers—teeth nipping at her lower lip, tongue exploring her mouth. Warmth bloomed through her chest, comfortable and nice.

When he stepped away from her, Isabelle could hardly focus her gaze, but Thomas had a distracted look on his face.

“He’s collecting them,” Thomas said, rubbing his chin the way he did when he mulled something over. “That has to be it. He’s going after certain witches with certain qualities and absorbing their magick. Once he has the right combination, the right balance, something happens.”

Isabelle took a moment to yank herself from the Hormonal Happy Land where Thomas’s kiss had sent her and focus on the important issue at hand. “A doorway opens and he gets to go home.”

“Exactly.”

“He trades the lives of at least four witches just so he can go home.” Anger vanquished the last of the passion Thomas had kindled in her moments ago.

“I’m sure we’re nothing but cattle to him.”

She chewed the side of her thumb, thinking. “When we foiled Boyle’s attempt to take the little girl yesterday, he simply found other witches to fulfill what he would’ve gotten from the child. Like ingredients for a stew.” Her voice broke on the words. “So there’s no way for us to protect anyone.”

“You did protect someone.”

“But in the long run—”