Ashes to ashes.

Once it had been done, Adam had lifted Eliza in his arms and she'd died. The memory still choked him up.

Since Adam had reached for magick instead of his gun, dealing with the aftermath had been a problem. The killing had been in self-defense, since the thief had had his gun pointed at him. But how would he explain the charred remains to the authorities?

Adam had called the Coven and they'd helped him conceal the nature of the killing. They'd helped him dispose of the body, clean up the mess in his house, all of it.

He'd told the police the burglar had gotten away.

Wracked by grief for Eliza, Adam had quit the force the next day and gone to work for the Coven. Thomas Monahan had earned his complete devotion from that day forward, and the Coven had gained themselves a loyal and skilled hunter, someone who tracked down warlocks and dealt with them.

"It happened in the middle of the night. I was just off shift. I had my uniform on for fuck's sake. I had my gun." He let his voice trail off. "But I was too late. She went downstairs to get a bottle of water. I heard the gunshot. By the time I got there, she was on the floor. She died in my arms."

Claire's hand was on his back. She'd probably put it there a while ago, but he only noticed it now. It was warm. The heat of her palm bled though the fabric of his shirt and branded his skin. The touch of her comforted him.

"What happened to the thief?" she asked softly.

Adam spread his hands. "I burned him, burned him practically to ash."

"Your wife wasn't aeamon?"

He shook his head. "As human as human could be. She knew about me, though. About us. I could never keep any secrets from her."

Claire was silent for a long time. Finally, she asked, "Do you still love her?"

He looked at her. "Not like that. I'm not in love with a dead woman, Claire. She's gone and I know that. I've grieved her and moved on, but I feel in debt to her. I was responsible for her death." He swore low. "I was there! There with my gun, there with my fire. I was in the house and she still died. I was a fucking cop and the burglar still got her right under my nose."

"Adam—"

"So, I'm sure that makes you feel really safe with me, Claire. Considering I'm supposed to be protecting you and I couldn't even keep my own wife from being shot in our home."

She shook her head. "Adam, I do feel safe with you. Sometimes bad things just happen. Sometimes—"

He shook his head and yanked away from her. "No, don't tell me not to feel responsible, Claire. Damn it. I get the stages of grieving and all the psycho-babble. It still doesn't change how I feel."