They didn’t stay for the cleanup. Alistair pulled a few strings when he reported the incident. Usually, he and Willow should have stayed behind to place a report. However, there were advantages to rank.

He called in a cleanup crew from the TDCM and cited confidential High Magi business. That stopped further inquiry.

For now. Eventually, someone would demand answers, but by then, he hoped to have some. Such as who the faction was that had so openly attacked.

After everything that had happened, Willow remained surprisingly quiet during the car ride to the restaurant. Very unexpected. Given her inquisitive nature, Alistair had anticipated her lobbing questions at him. He’d even prepared how best to dodge them, especially the explanation of Marcus’s deference toward him.

That one could prove tricky. Vampires usually deferred to no one outside their kind. So what would he tell her? The truth? Or the same lies he told everyone else?

You can’t tell her the truth. No one was ready for that. Not now, perhaps not ever.

The close confines of her car proved distracting, the scent of her wrapping around him, a mixture of fading adrenaline, smoke, and her. The essence of a woman.

Quite intoxicating. Everything about Willow drew Alistair, and the more time they spent together, the worse his attraction got. Alistair should have been focused on his mission and that alone. However, who said he couldn’t mix a bit of pleasure in there? Perhaps by satisfying his carnal need, he’d find himself more clearheaded.

Count on a male to find justification for sex. But would it just be sex? Usually, his body didn’t crave so loudly. Usually, he could turn off his desires at will.

All that had changed when he met Willow.

The silence continued but for the soft crooning of a song on the radio. Alistair wondered what ran through her mind, especially given her surprise invitation to dinner. And where exactly would they eat? They didn’t have the kind of attire or freshness to dine anywhere public, at least not anywhere with decent repast.

I don’t want greasy fast food. Perish the very thought. Yet he’d swallow the overly processed excuse for sustenance if he had to. He wanted to spend more time with Willow—and not just because she was crucial to his case.

She intrigues me as a woman. A desirable female who is fearless and quick-thinking. Someone who shows a will of iron yet has an inner softness. Just look at her reaction when he destroyed the ghouls. Most rational beings would eliminate them on sight. However, she’d worried about her friend.

A witch, friends with a vampire, and not because she served as a blood slave. She was the most surprising creature.

Such an ill-timed distraction… Yet, he didn’t mind so much because, in her, he could see a glimmer of possibility. An option he didn’t yet dare contemplate.

“Exactly how strong are you?” The question, breaking the silence, proved startling. Especially since it wasn’t one he’d expected.

“I don’t work out at a gym if that’s what you’re asking.”

She let out a sound of annoyance. “Don’t play stupid. I mean magically. How strong are you?”

“Strong enough to be a Grande Mago.”

“Still not an answer. You are powerful enough to hold up a shield for quite a bit of time against several attacking wizards. A large barrier, I might add. Manipulate it. And then throw off mauve fireballs, a color I didn’t even know was possible, and still look like you could have handled more.”

“I could have.” It stroked his pride to realize she’d noticed.

“Most wizards can’t do that. Not without taking a break in between.”

“I’m not most wizards.” Not even close.

“What are you?”

Much like at their first meeting, she asked, recognizing his difference. “I’m a man.” Physically, at least.

“But not an elf.”

“Nope.”

“This is where you say, ‘hey, Willow, I’m a…’”

“What do you think I am?”

She slapped her steering wheel. “Would I be asking if I knew? It’s driving me nuts because here’s the thing. You don’t look anything but human.”

“Humans can’t be wizards,” he replied by rote.

“I know, which is why I wish you’d stop beating around the bush and tell me. What are you?”

The conversation might have continued if her phone hadn’t rung.

“Answer that, would you?” she growled.

“Do I look like your secretary?”

Her fiery temper emerged, and she snapped, “Would you like me to answer it and possibly run us into a tree?”

“Testy, testy,” he teased, enjoying the fire in her. He fished her phone from the console. She didn’t have a passcode, he noted, so it took only a swipe of the screen to answer.

“Hello, you’ve reached Willow’s phone. How may I help you?”

“Um, who is this?”

“Alistair Fitzroy playing secretary to the coven priestess.”

She snorted.

“Well, this is her other secretary, calling to say I’m going to head home for the night.”

Alistair repeated the words to Willow as he put the phone on speaker so they could both hear.

“How many on the list did you manage to contact?” she asked.

“Not enough.” The tinny reply caused her shoulders to droop. “I left messages where I could. I’ll call a few more when I get home. I didn’t want to be out after dark.”

“You shouldn’t be going home at all. I want you to hit a hotel. The coven will cover the bill.”

“I’ll be fine,” Kal retorted. “It’s still daylight, and my boyfriend is coming over tonight. Once he’s inside, I’ll be sure to spell all my doors and windows.”

“Not exactly reassuring since I know your lawyer friend is like totally anti-violence.”

“Kenny? We broke up a few weeks ago. I’m talking about Martin, the marine. And he’s got great big guns.” Kal snickered, and the jest drew a faint smile from Willow.

“Let me know when you get home safely.”

“Will do, boss.”

“Did you happen to see Whiskers at all today?” she asked.

Kal replied. “No. But a neighbor popped by to complain that she saw an orange kitty in her yard chasing the birds. Claimed there were feathers everywhere.”

“Well, at least he’s not going hungry. And if that was Whiskers, then that means a demon didn’t steal my kitty after all.”

“Do you want me back at your place in the morning, or should we attempt the office?”

She shot Alistair a look.

He replied, “I think it best if you take some time off for the next little while. Perhaps go somewhere and not tell anyone, not even Willow.”

“Do you think they’ll target Kal?”

His jaw tightened. “Everyone with magic is a target. If you value his life, then I highly recommend a vacation until we get the demon situation under control.”

“I guess I’m taking my vacation early then, boss.”

“Be careful,” she said. “Text me to let me know you’re okay.”

“Will do.”

The phone went dead as Kal hung up, and Willow was silent, but only for a short moment.

“Do you really think we can get the demon thing under control? We don’t even know how they’re getting here.”

“Soft spots.”

“Soft spots from where?” she growled. “I’m getting tired of you being stingy with your information.”

“My information is considered classified.”

“By whom? The wizards? What a surprise they don’t want anyone to know. Your tight lips are costing lives.”

Lives he usually had no connection to. It caused his brows to draw tight. “I will divulge some of what I know, but keep in mind, what I’m about to tell you is hypothetical, and secret. The soft spots that are allowing the demons to pass into our world are a planetary rotation thing. An alignment of universes if you will. Once the two worlds move out of alignment, the problem will disappear.”

“So these soft spots acting as doors will close. Will the demons leave then, too?”

“Not the ones already in our world. But when that time comes, we will hunt down those remaining.”

“We just need to hold on, then. How long before our worlds shift away from each other?”

Good question. He’d yet to figure out the math behind it. “No idea. But this isn’t the first time this has happened.”

“I figured as much. At least I know we survived it once before. And with less technology. Which should make things easier, I guess.”

Survived, yes, but not in the way she thought. He kept that part to himself.

When Willow pulled to the curb of a house, a two-story, cookie-cutter home on the outskirts of the city where suburbia started, he stared at the area. Then stared at her, noting her amused smile.

“Where are we? I thought we were going for dinner.”

“We are. But I wasn’t in the mood to change and shower, so I thought we’d come here.”

“And where is here?”

The door flung open, and a woman with the same red fiery hair—an older version of Willow—emerged with arms extended and a bright smile. “Willy! Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

Willy?

The witch emerged from her car. “I wanted to surprise you. Hope that’s okay. I brought someone with me.”

Alistair emerged from the car and prepared to introduce himself, only to find himself in need of possible medical attention given the ear-piercing scream, “You brought a man!”

In that moment, a cold fear invaded him, one he’d not felt in a long time.

No. She didn’t. Oh, but she had. Willow had brought him to meet her matchmaking mama—he recognized the gleam in her eye.

And judging by Willow’s smirk, she’d not brought him because she wanted him as a mate. She was up to something.

His gaze narrowed.

Challenge accepted.