She had a million questions, but they all caught in her throat. They were questions for the head of the Coven, anyway, not Jack McAllister, Thomas’s right-hand man. “I hunted the demon for a month and couldn’t find it.”

“We’ve been hunting it, too, without any luck.”

“I went after the cause for the demon’s existence instead.” She swallowed hard. “I just…needed to do something, and Stefan can’t be allowed to bring any more of those creatures into our world.”

Jack slid away and she turned toward him on the seat. Her back still ached, but the worst of the pain had faded.

“Isabelle, I get that. I do. But you should have come to us instead of playing vigilante. We’d always planned to take down Stefan and we’re going after the demon.” Jack shook his head and tch tched. “Bad, bad girl.”

“So what’s new?” she muttered in response. Angela had always been the good one. Isabelle had always been the one getting into trouble.

He must’ve known she wasn’t asking what was new with him, but he answered that way all the same. “I’m going to be a father.” The words were spoken with such pride that she smiled.

She fussed with the hem of her skirt, happy to change the subject. “I heard that. Knocked up that little air witch of yours.”

“Mira.”

Lady, the look in his eyes when he said her name. Such love. Such devotion. A man had never looked that way while speaking her name, at least not that she knew of, and Isabelle had to admit that a part of her regretted it.

“That’s right, her name is Mira,” Isabelle answered. “Everyone’s hoping she’ll turn up with a baby air witch of her own.” Of all the elemental witches, air was by far the rarest and most powerful. “What do you think, air or fire?”

“I think she’ll take after her mom and be an air witch. We’re going to name her Eva, for Mira’s mom if it’s a girl. David, for her dad if it’s a boy.”