A jealous rage boiled inside Isaac as he trudged away from the werewolf’s house. He ground his teeth as thoughts of his Rain spending the night with that creature plowed through his mind, digging up long-buried emotions he’d rather not remember.

He’d needed to get a glimpse of her, to see her with his own eyes. Could he possibly care for the woman after what she’d done to him?

Apparently, he could because the need to possess her gripped his chest, tightening his lungs until he couldn’t breathe. Ducking into the shadows, he leaned against a wall and pressed a hand to his heart. The sluggish muscle beat lightly against his breast, when it should have been pounding.

Why hadn’t he stuck to the plan? A week in the swamp would have been enough time to recover and implement his scheme. But he’d had to see her. Idiot.

After the energy he’d expended to satisfy his whim, he’d be forced to drain someone. He couldn’t stand to spend another week in the putrid swamp when he was this close to getting his revenge.

His spine cracked as he straightened and pushed from the wall. Closing his eyes, he shut out the world, ignoring his senses and focusing on his tulpa. A mass of static energy buzzed before him, pricking at his skin as the entity took shape.

Peeling his heavy lids open, he gazed at his greatest creation. Find me a witch. A beautiful one. If Rain could give herself to another man, Isaac would take another woman.

The tulpa darted ahead of him, slinking through the shadows as it made its way toward Frenchman Street and its eclectic live music venues. He knew of one club in particular that drew a large supernatural crowd—a prime hunting ground for his next taste of life.

Isaac followed his creation, his dirty clothes and the smell of swamp that lingered on his skin causing people to keep a wide berth around him. A woman looked at him with sympathy and muttered something about too many homeless people, and a sinking sensation formed in his stomach. Rain would be repulsed to see him in this condition.

A groan rumbled in his throat. Why did he care?

Dragging his mind back to the mission, he focused on the entity, sending it his thoughts and connecting on a telepathic level. Though the vision was hazy, as if looking through smoke, Isaac could see with the tulpa’s eyes. The shadow figure would need a face—a handsome man, tall and strong. Isaac’s lip split as he smiled, and coppery blood trickled between his teeth. He found one who would do.

The man leaned against a wall and fiddled with a matchbook, attempting to light a cigarette, while his friend tossed a beer can into the trash. The tulpa moved like lightening, zipping through the darkness to rest a shadowy hand against its prey’s cheek. The man’s face fell slack. His shoulders drooped, and his friend barely caught him by the arm before he crumpled to the ground.

“What the hell? Did you see that?”

The man moaned in response.

The tulpa continued toward the club, its form wavering, rolling in on itself until it replicated the man’s appearance. Isaac followed, curling his cracked lip at the man as his friend tried to drag him to his feet. The temptation to stop and finish him off gave Isaac pause. If he could take on the bastard’s good looks by draining him like his tulpa could, he might have done it.

Instead, he ducked into the alley behind the club and cleared his mind. Through the smoky haze of the tulpa’s vision, he searched the room for a beautiful witch to replace his Rain. Though muffled through the entity’s senses, the music pulsed and vibrated as bodies writhed on the dance floor. The tulpa slinked into the crowd, running its hand along the arms of its potential conquests, searching their skin for the magical electricity of a witch.

Through the tulpa’s gaze, Isaac spotted dark curls bobbing across the dance floor, and his throat tightened. He stumbled up the alley toward the door, the excitement that his Rain had left the werewolf driving him forward.

The woman turned, and he halted, the exertion sucking the air from his lungs. Even through the haze, her dark-brown eyes were unremarkable. While the woman held a certain attractiveness, she wasn’t Rain.

How dare she have the audacity to resemble his woman? He urged the tulpa forward, and as it stroked her arm, her magical signature danced across the entity’s borrowed skin.

The tulpa put a hand on her hip, moving its own in time with the music, and desire sparked in the woman’s eyes as she ran a hand up the entity’s shoulder. Isaac’s jaw clenched. Rain had once looked at him that way.

Bring her to me. Isaac groaned and dissolved the connection, allowing the tulpa to do what was necessary to lead the woman to her doom. There would be no enjoyment in this victim. She deserved her fate for stirring these unwelcome emotions in his soul.

A giggle echoed from the alley entrance, and the woman appeared, her arms draped around the tulpa’s shoulders. “Where are we going?” She buried her face in the entity’s neck, and from this view, she looked so much like Rain, Isaac’s heart missed a beat.

He closed his eyes and focused on the feel of her body pressed against the tulpa. The sensation felt distant, more like a memory, and when her nose glided along the entity’s neck as she lifted her head, visions of Rain swam behind Isaac’s eyes.

His knuckles cracked as he clenched his fists, and pain shot through his temple. Between his fatigue and the anger rolling through his system, his knees buckled beneath his weight. He leaned against the wall and scowled as the tulpa coaxed the woman deeper into the alley.

“Let’s go back to the club.” The first hint of fear raised her voice an octave as she tried to wiggle from the entity’s embrace.

The tulpa tightened its grip and lifted her from the ground.

“What are you doing?” Panic laced her words as the tulpa carried her toward him. “Put me down!”

As she sucked in a breath to scream, Isaac took her face in his hands and gazed into her dark-brown eyes. Her life energy flowed through his fingers, spiraling up his arms to fill his body.

The woman froze, the frantic rhythm of her heart pumping her lifeforce into his veins. She clawed at his hands, but her strength faded quickly, her breathing growing shallow until a whisper left her lips. “Why?”

“Why, indeed?” Isaac’s spine straightened as her energy spiraled through his body, mending his splitting bones, repairing his deteriorating muscles. Her lifeforce was strong, but unlike his Rain, her magic was weak.

The witch’s skin shriveled on her bones, her eyes growing distant before the light in them extinguished. Shoving the empty body into his tulpa’s arms, Isaac rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck.

“What a waste.” Once again, he’d let his emotions rule, and he’d ruined his shot at draining a powerful witch. This one could barely cast a clarity spell, much less harness the amount of magic he’d need to defeat a werewolf.

He hadn’t planned on leaving a trail of bodies in his wake, but he’d have to find someone stronger. Someone whose magic was worthy.

Making use of his temporary strength, he lifted the body from the tulpa’s arms and tossed it into the dumpster. With any luck, he’d have Rain in his grasp before the rest of the witches caught on to his plan.

Dead or alive, she would be his again. Soon.