She rose, got dressed, and went in search of the lovely warm drink they called coffee. The invigorating jolt to her veins was fast becoming the only thing that truly woke her all the way up in the morning.

Theo sat at the kitchen table. Pots, bowls, and a mortar and pestle sat on the counter. The kitchen was still redolent with the dry tang of herbs and Theo's spell book was open on a counter. The earth witch had been busy that morning.

She poured herself a cup, fished out a container of strawberry yogurt from the fridge, got a spoon, and sat down near him.

He laid the paper he'd been reading aside, replacing it on a stack of others. His long dark hair fell over one carmel-colored shoulder. "I've been checking the papers from here to Chicago. No crimes worthy of an Atrika have popped up, not even in the city."

She spooned up the yogurt. "That's good and it's bad. Good that no one has died that we know of." She hated to have to add that last bit to the end. That we know of. "Bad that the Atrika have gone quiet."

"What do you mean?"

"If the Atrika aren't leaving carnage in their wake, that means they're stalking. Stalking someone or something. They're calculating, trying to be quiet and unobtrusive."

"Yeah."

"When the other Atrika was loose here, the one your warlocks pulled through so many years ago. What did you say he called himself?"

"Erasmus Boyle."

She nodded. "That's right. Did he kill many people?"

He took a sip of his coffee. "Six witches, including Isabelle's sister. We know about those for sure. Micah went through all the police records since Boyle was pulled through. I think Micah's number at last count was one hundred and fifteen likely kills of humans."

"That would make sense. On average that's about five kills per year since his arrival. That's more or less what an Atrika will take normally, just to stave off boredom. He was not stalking."

"At least not until he started picking off the witches for his magickical blend. He stalked those witches." Theo paused. "Ask Isabelle. He stalked her."

Claire slid her half-finished yogurt cup across the table, suddenly not hungry.

Adam sauntered into the kitchen with his hair wet and sticking up in blond tufts all over his head. He'd shaved, and he wore a pair of close-fitting jeans, a black cable-knit sweater, and a pair of black boots. He mumbled something unintelligible at them and poured a cup of coffee.

"Witches aren't here yet," commented Theo.

"Yeah, I noticed that." Adam lifted his cup. "Thanks for pointing out the obvious, man."

Theo gave him an exasperated look. "Somebody woke up on the wrong side of the bed. I'm just saying, they're not here and they should be."