blood that ran through a demon’s veins. “Demons and humans can mate?”
“No, actually. It’s not physically possible for a human woman to carry a demon’s child. They cooked up a spell to make it happen, a spell based on the elements.”
Shock rippled through Thomas as mysteries aligned. For so long they’d known nothing of their origins, even though the Coven philosophers debated different theories endlessly. As much as Thomas was loath to admit it, this had a ring of plausibility.
“This first couple had quadruplets,” Micah continued. “Each of those children inherited a propensity for one of the elements. They were the first witches—earth, air, water, and fire. Other demon/human unions followed, and additional offspring were born through the use of the elements spell. This is the gene pool we’re descended from.”
It made an irritating amount of sense. Matings between witches and non-magickals almost never produced a child. The reason had never been determined, since biologically witches seemed completely human.
Micah continued. “The daaeman call witches and warlocks aeamon, their word for half-breed.”
Thomas jolted, remembering what Boyle had called them right before he’d hit them with that thunderclap of magick. “So let’s say, hypothetically, witch magick was born of demon magick. Do you think that witch magick would be powerless against demon magick because of that?”
Micah sat back in his leather chair, making it squeak, and placed his hands behind his head. He contemplated the question a moment before answering. “Witch magick is probably about half as powerful as demon magick. Plus, it’s fundamentally different in nature, having been warped by the element spell cast originally to allow the first pregnancies.”
“So?” Micah could pontificate for hours. Thomas just wanted a yes or a no.
He paused, lost in thought, then shrugged. “I think all bets are off. There’s no way to know why our magick is powerless against them.”
“So, the age-old question has been answered. Witches aren’t really human after all. The Coven philosophers will have fun with this information.”
“We have a foot in both worlds, but it seems we may be an amalgamation of human and demon.”
Thomas suppressed a shudder and changed the subject. “Have you found any other weaknesses besides metal?”
He shook his head. “If I had, you would’ve been the first I’d told.”
“I know.”
Micah leaned back over the scattered papers. “How are Adam, Isabelle, and the others?”
Thomas pushed a hand through his hair. “Adam and Isabelle have gone to see the doctor, but they’re mostly fine. The non-magickal, Simon Alexander, we sent home. Katie and her mother, Melanie, are here at the Coven, under guard. It’s the most we can do for them right now.”
“So what was Alexander’s connection to the demon?”
“The demon never had any direct interest in him. Boyle was using him as a way to get to the little girl, Katie. The demon had come into contact with Alexander through the motorcycle shop where Alexander works. Boyle rides a vintage Harley, apparently. That’s how Boyle became aware of the little girl. We’re not sure why he wanted her. We’re also not sure if the demon deliberately blew the intelligence to Mira, but I don’t see where that would have benefited him. Right now it looks like she picked it up by pure chance.”
“Sounds like Isabelle did a fantastic job out there.”
“We might all be dead if it weren’t for her.”
Micah smiled. “I hear admiration in your voice.”
Thomas grinned back at him. “I think she’s pretty damn hot, too.”
“Knew you did.”
STEFAN SAT ON THE EDGE OF HIS BUNK, HIS BLOND head—hair perfect even in captivity—bowed. Thomas had come to Gribben immediately following his disturbing conversation with Micah. Stefan held answers and Thomas hated that. It shifted the power into Stefan’s hands.
He hadn’t felt the need to bring Isabelle with him for this because Isabelle had specified she wanted to be included in any official Coven communication with Stefan. This was personal.
Thomas stopped pacing in front of Stefan.
The warlock raised his head, a smug smile spreading over his lips. “I touched her, you know. Isabelle. She let me feel her up before she attacked me. Her breasts are beautiful. They feel nice against a man’s lips, smooth and soft. Have you kissed them yet?”
Thomas stared down at him, teeth gritted as he tried not to react to the obvious bait.
His voice changed from honey-sweet to barbed. “I see how you look at her, that witch bitch. Was it coup de foudre? Was it love at first sight, Thomas? Or do you just want to fuck her? Either way, I