Her mind swamped with pain, she considered insanity. It might be the only way she could get through this. A wild giggle rose within her, unable to be voiced.

Adam fought mot to punch the wall. Long gone was the lighthearted man the Coven had known. For years he was the one who joked around with everyone, even under the direst of circumstances.

He could find nothing light within him at the moment, not even a speck. Every moment they spent not finding Claire was another moment the demons had to kill her.

If, indeed, she still lived.

"You need to calm down, Adam."

"I really fucking wish people would stop saying that." Adam turned on his heel and paced away from Jack McAllister. "Easy for you to say; it's not someone you care about trapped with a couple demons who are ready to rip her limb from limb."

"You're right. In your position, if it were Mira in the hands of the demons, I'd be crazed, too."

"And don't fucking tell me that Micah and the others are doing all they can. If one more fucking witch tells me that, I'm going rip their fucking head off."

"Yeah," Jack said, eyebrows rising. He stood and went to the kitchen, took two short, fat glasses from the cabinet, and poured whiskey into them both. He turned. "Do you want a fucking drink?"

Adam started toward him. "Fuck, yeah." He took the glass from Jack, downed it in one swallow and then poured another.

"So, it finally happened, then. Adam Tyrell finally fell in love."

He rolled his eyes at Jack and drank down another glass. "Hell, have a baby and get married, and you start going all soft and talking about love."

"You wouldn't be like this if it was anything less. Anyway, what's wrong with love?"

Plenty.

Adam turned and stalked away from him, back into the living room of his Coven apartment. "I was married before, Jack. I'm not unacquainted with love."

Jack went totally silent.

Adam glanced at him. "Yeah, I know. Shocking, isn't it?"

"Yeah, it is."

"Thomas knows. Isabelle knows, but not the details. A few others know. Not many."

"Did you get divorced?"

He collapsed into a recliner with a heavy sigh. Why'd he even bring this up? "No, man, she died."

"Fuck."

"Yeah, fuck."

Jack set his glass down and moved into the living room to sit in the other recliner. "I'm sorry."

Adam tipped his head back against the chair and closed his eyes. "Why do people always say that when they hear someone's died?"

"Because they don't know what else to say." He paused. "How did she die?"

"I was a cop. I bet you didn't know that, either. My dad was a cop, too. I followed in his footsteps, just like he wanted. My dad, both my uncles, all of them were Chicago cops. It was in my blood."

"No, I didn't know."