“There are lots of powerful fire witches in the world,” Micah answered. “It doesn’t mean His Majesty, Stefan Faucheux, would want to spend personal time with them. I’ll do some more digging and see what I can come up with.”

“In the meantime, let her go. Send her to me, Theo,” said Isabelle. “I’ll smooth things over with her a little and then send her home.”

He turned and glared at her. “What makes you think I can’t smooth things over with her?”

She made a scoffing sound. “Uh-huh. No offense, but you lack skill in the diplomacy department. Better send her to me. I can only imagine how you’ve treated her. I heard all about the run through the cornfield. In hindsight that was pretty brutal, wasn’t it? She probably hates your guts.”

Theo thought back to the conversation he’d had with Sarafina the night before. How she’d asked him to tell her about the world she’d fallen into and how he’d rebuffed her. Isabelle’s words hit him in the solar plexus. Sarafina almost certainly did hate him.

He glanced down at the file folder. “Probably.”

“Okay. We’re agreed. Un-abracadabra the earth wards on your door and send her down to me, poor woman.”

Theo rose, holding the file. “I’ll go get her.”

He left the room and headed to his apartment. He should be happy to be free of the woman and her yapping little dog, but tension had settled in the pit of his stomach instead. Perhaps it was because he still sensed that Sarafina—never mind the fact she was named for a kind of angel—was dangerous. Theo didn’t like the idea of releasing her. Or perhaps it was because she was, in fact, an innocent and he’d treated her so brutally. Hell, she’d been abducted just like he’d been. Maybe guilt was the reason for the tension in his gut.

He entered the apartment and found her lying on her stomach across the couch, reading one of his spell books. She’d folded the blanket and set it on the end of the couch, on top of the pillow.

Sensing something was different, he glanced around. The room was spotless. It looked like she’d even taken a dust rag to the bookshelves. A glance into the kitchen revealed the same level of cleanliness.

Damn, that was the first time he’d seen the countertops in months. His best spell pot gleamed on the stove. It looked like she’d polished it to within an inch of its life.

She glanced up at him with an annoyed look on her face and then returned to giving the book her complete attention. Grosset seemed happy to see him, at least. He bounced like a dust mop on crack at Theo’s feet, small pink tongue hanging out.