Embers

  Knox gave her nape a gentle squeeze. “I’d say she walked out of that fight in more pain than you did. Tanner, do you have her scent?”

  The hellhound turned to them, jaw hard. “No. There’s not even a hint of one that doesn’t fit the people already in the room.”

  Harper’s lips parted. “How can she not have a scent?”

  Tanner shrugged. “There’s no scent of death either.”

  Harper swore. “Not only is she still alive, you can’t track her.” Groaning, she rubbed a hand down her face. “None of this makes sense. All I can be sure of is that she’s pretty powerful. Most people are so overwhelmed by the soul-deep pain that they can’t think through it, let alone find the will to defend themselves or try to escape. They just turn into a ball of misery. The pain distracted and weakened her, but it didn’t disable her.” And that was frightening, because Harper relied on that power to protect her.

  Keenan held out her stiletto blade. “This is yours, right? Found it on the floor.”

  “Thanks. I must have dropped it.” Harper frowned. “There’s no blood on it. I stabbed her with this right in the heart, but there’s no blood.”

  A baffled silence met that statement.

  “It was probably an ice demon,” said Drew, glancing around.

  “No,” said Knox. “None of it was real ice.”

  Drew jutted out his chin. “So, what was it?”

  “Glacial energy that immobilized whatever it touched,” Knox said simply. “If it had been molten energy, it would have presented itself as fire. But it wouldn’t have been real fire, just like that wasn’t real ice.”

  Drew stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Does that help work out what she is?”

  “No,” replied Knox.

  “Then I don’t see that it matters.”

  “It matters. Every piece of the puzzle matters.”

  Harper nodded. “She’s able to shapeshift, leave no trace of herself behind, transform into vapor, and emit glacial energy to form ice or wind. Knowing these things may not lead us to her, but they do help us know how to combat her if she makes a reappearance. Asher was sitting over there,” she added, pointing to the center of the room. “He’d popped up his shield. She didn’t seem able to get past it. He didn’t even cry.”

  “Of course he didn’t,” said Jolene. “He’s a Wallis.”

  Knox’s jaw clenched. “He’s a Thorne.”

  Jolene waved that away. “You know what I mean.”

  Drew folded his arms across his chest. “Do you think one of the Primes could be behind it?”

  Harper’s nose wrinkled. “I doubt it.”

  Drew frowned. “You’re the only mated Primes in the world. You’re both powerful, and so is your kid—I could sense it. That has to make the other Primes nervous.”

  “It probably does, but you haven’t seen them with Asher. I really don’t think they’d hurt him.” Before Asher was born, Harper wouldn’t have thought she’d ever say those words. Demonkind had feared that the baby would be the same breed as Knox—they might not know what Knox was, but they sure didn’t want another hanging around.

  The Primes had been especially nervous so, when Asher was five months old, Harper and Knox had done the unexpected: They’d taken him into a meeting with the other US Primes. All of them had fallen head over heels for the little guy.

  The move had not only demonstrated that Knox and Harper believed in their ability to protect him, it had forced the Primes to view Asher as a person, not an abstract potentially soulless baby who might be too powerful to exist. They’d seen how playful, inquisitive, and happy he was. Seen that he was just like any other baby. Sensed that he had the air of a sphinx, like Harper, which they seemed to have found particularly comforting. The only gift Asher used during the meeting was his shield. It had impressed people but, as a defensive ability, hadn’t made the Primes in the least bit nervous. They’d found it cute.

  Honestly, Harper often wondered if there was something preternatural about Asher’s ability to win people over. Like maybe he’d been gifted with strong charisma or something. She was sure he would even have won over Knox’s bitchy ex-bed buddy, Alethea … if the she-demon wasn’t missing. No one had seen Alethea since just after Asher was born. Her brother, Jonas, was worried, despite that he could still feel her psychically and, as such, knew she was alive.

  “I agree that the Primes wouldn’t hurt him—Asher has them wrapped around his little finger,” said Jolene. “But that’s not to say they wouldn’t hire someone to kidnap him so that they could use him for one reason or another.”

  “I’m more inclined to think it was the fourth Horseman,” said Raini. “I actually thought he or she might abandon the group’s goal, since the other three are dead. But maybe not.”

  Knox would put his money on the fourth Horseman being behind the attack, but he wasn’t so sure that the demon who tried to snatch Asher was in fact the Horseman. Striking while Asher was at the home of a strong Prime like Jolene Wallis was extremely bold. The fourth Horseman had never appeared on the scene to help defend Isla, Roan, or Nora when they were up against Knox and Harper. That suggested the remaining Horseman was happy to sit back and let others not only take the risks but deal with any consequences alone.

  Turning to Ciaran, Knox said, “I’d be grateful if you could return us to our home.”

  Tanner gestured outside with his thumb. “I’ll drive the car back.”

  “I’ll come with you,” Keenan said to the other sentinel.

  Knox turned to Jolene. “I doubt that the she-demon will return here, but if she does, call me.” The female Prime didn’t respond. He arched a brow. “I know you’re angry, Jolene, but this she-demon made my mate bleed and tried to take our son. It happened in your house, true, but Harper and Asher are my family and part of my lair. As Primes, Harper and I deal with anyone who threatens it.”

  “I can’t promise I won’t kill her if she returns here,” said Jolene. “I don’t have that kind of restraint. Won’t it be enough for you to know she’s dead?”

  “I don’t want her dead. I intend to find out who she is. I will seize and detain her, but I won’t kill her. I will mentally destroy her. Completely. Utterly. I will break her. Crush her spirit. Torture her until there’s no fight left in her. And she will live in fear that I’ll return to her prison to do it again and again. And I will.”

  Jolene looked at him for a few moments. “I can get behind that.”

  With an amused snort, Devon squeezed Harper’s hand. “Take care.”

  “And give Asher a kiss for us,” added Khloë.

  Knox curled his arm around Harper’s shoulders, who leaned into him and slipped an arm around his waist. Just like that, more of Clarke’s thoughts split the air like gunshots. No one else heard them, of course. Only Knox. This time, it wasn’t just thoughts that leaked through Clarke’s shields. It was memories. Memories of Harper. Her taste spiced with mojitos. The softness of her skin. The weight of her breasts. The feel of her pussy, hot and tight, around his fingers. The raspy sigh she let out when she came.

  Knox’s rage mingled with that of his demon, who lunged for the surface, making the room temperature plummet. It spoke to the hellcat mind-to-mind, effectively crashing into the male’s thoughts. I could steal those memories from you so very, very easily.

  Drew’s eyes widened.

  Perhaps I should share some of my own with you. The demon thrust past Drew’s weak shields, forcing its own memories to replay in the hellcat’s brain. Harper screaming as she came. Her telling Knox she loved him. His flesh burning as her demon branded him. Her face all soft and warm as she slid his rings on her finger. Her laughing as they both played with Asher, happy and relaxed.

  Clenching his fists, Drew scowled. “Get out of my head.”

  Harper belongs to me. Belongs with me. If you wish to challenge my claim on her, do so now. I will enjoy watching you die. When Drew remained quiet instead of disputing its claim to Harper, the demon r
etreated.

  “What going on?” asked Harper, wary, as she fisted the back of his shirt.

  Knox stroked his thumb over Harper’s jaw. “Nothing, baby. Ciaran?”

  With a nod, the imp teleported them back to the living area of the mansion.

  CHAPTER THREE

  As soon as Ciaran left, Knox gently pulled Harper flush against him and kissed her forehead. That gentle side of him hadn’t shown itself until she came along. Or maybe it hadn’t developed until then. “Stop feeling like you failed Asher.” Her shame was so strong that it brushed the edges of his consciousness. Even if their psyches weren’t joined, the emotion would have been easy enough to sense just by the look on her face.

  Harper closed her eyes. “I shouldn’t have left his side.”

  “It’s not as if you left him in a room all by himself. Others were with him. And you weren’t gone for long, were you? No. Because you thought he was safe. He should have been safe. No one could have predicted that someone would be so bold as to try to get to Asher while he was in a house full of people. The important thing is that he’s fine, which he is.”

  Intellectually, Harper knew he was right. Knew she’d had every reason to believe that Asher would be safe at her grandmother’s house. Especially since Jolene was a strong Prime who was well-known for retaliating hard. But that had obviously been what the mystery she-demon had counted on, hadn’t it? And Harper couldn’t help feeling like she should have been prepared for that, just as she couldn’t help feeling like she should have seen even halfway through Nora’s act.

  Harper hadn’t suspected her half-brother, Roan, or Knox’s ex-bed buddy, Isla, of being part of some fucked-up group intending to see the fall of the Primes, but she had been repelled by both of them. Not Nora, though. No, Harper had actually liked the woman.

  Stroking a hand down her hair, Knox pulled back to meet her eyes. So much torment there, he thought. It caused a twinge in his chest. “What are you thinking that makes you look like you want to slap yourself?”

  “I’m thinking that it’s not even the first time I let Asher down. Yes, I know it’s illogical to feel guilty for not suspecting Nora of being a Horseman, but the guilt’s there all the same.”

  “I can’t help feeling guilty that I didn’t escort you to the restroom the day she took you. If I had, you wouldn’t have been forced into early labor and you wouldn’t have gone through so much of it alone.”

  Harper’s face scrunched up. “Why would you have escorted me to the restroom?”

  “Why would you have suspected Nora?” he shot back. “If I’m not to blame, you’re not to blame.” But Knox understood why she struggled with the guilt. He knew it wasn’t his fault that he hadn’t been at her side during every second of the labor, but that didn’t stop the guilt from creeping in. There was a truck load of anger there, too. It gutted him that he hadn’t been able to live up to his promise to be with her every step of the way; that he hadn’t experienced every single moment of the labor right along with her.

  She absently rubbed at her upper arm. “I just can’t help feeling like I neglected Asher by leaving him with Ciaran.”

  His demon pushed his way to the surface and spoke, “Your shame and guilt are senseless, little sphinx. You did all you could do. The child is unharmed. He is not in distress.”

  “Which is the only reason I’m halfway rational right now.”

  Knox seized control, forcing the demon to retreat and said, “You didn’t neglect Asher at any point. You protected him. No one could ever describe you as a neglectful parent, Harper.”

  Knox knew why she was so hard on herself. She’d needlessly worried from the start that she wouldn’t be a good mother, considering her own parents were completely useless as not just parents but as living beings.

  Her mother, Carla, was a twisted bitch who’d sold Harper to Jolene after aborting her hadn’t worked. Harper’s father, Lucian, was a self-centered nomad with the emotional age of a child. Knox had known that Harper would never be anything like either of them. She was everything a mother should be—caring, protective, nurturing, admiringly patient, and she loved Asher unconditionally.

  Knox curled her hair around her ear. “We knew someone would try to get to Asher eventually.”

  “I guess I was hoping that just maybe he’d be left alone.”

  “They won’t get to him, Harper. No one will touch him. I’ll destroy demonkind before I let it happen.”

  “I know. And I’ll be right at your side while you do it,” Harper vowed, meaning every word. And then he kissed her. As always, his potent sex appeal and alpha energy wrapped around her. Really, there was no escaping the effects of his raw sexual magnetism. No stopping her nerve endings from sparking to life or goosebumps sweeping across her flesh, making it hypersensitive.

  Knox drew back and swiped his tongue along her lower lip. “You taste good.”

  She smoothed a hand down his chest. “You look good. Far too good. It scrambles my thoughts.”

  “Kind of like your scent scrambles mine.” He sipped from her mouth again. Inside him, his demon settled a little. It had missed her. Always did.

  From minute one, she’d intrigued both Knox and his demon. Complex, guarded, elusive, and almost pathologically stubborn, his pretty and shiny little sphinx was a walking, talking challenge for any male. Barely five and a half feet tall, she was all carnal sensuality, innate grace, and iron strength. Her mouth, lush and erotic, was as tempting as her delicate yet sinfully curved body.

  He loved knowing she was his. Loved knotting his fingers in her sleek dark hair as he fucked in and out of her. Loved watching her unusually glassy eyes, which were presently a soft violet shade, change color—it was something they did randomly yet often.

  She was unique. Singular. There was literally no one like her … and she was all his. No one got to harm her and live, which meant the demon who made her bleed was on borrowed time. “Let me take another look at the scrape on your side,” said Knox.

  She waved a dismissive hand. “It’s fine.”

  “I want to see. Lift your shirt.”

  “No, because you’ll fuss. I’m done with the fussing.”

  His demon smiled at her snippy tone. People tended to do their best to please Knox, whether out of fear, respect, or a wish to win his favor. Not Harper. She’d never had a problem telling him “no”. Never bowed down to him. Never allowed him to intimidate her. Never sought his company or approval. Hell, she hadn’t even flirted with him.

  Even now, she persistently defied him. Teased him. Frustrated him. Amused him. Constantly tested his patience. Pushed back if he pushed too far. Called him on his bullshit.

  She also had a wicked temper and absolutely no problem unleashing it on him, just as she had no issue at all with standing up to his demon. Few people would dare to do the latter.

  “You know I won’t drop it, Harper. Not when you’re hurt.”

  She snorted. “And you know your tyrannical shit is absolutely wasted on me. You learned this on day one, and yet you keep on pushing. I’m confused.”

  Knox wasn’t going to lie, he had initially tried to control her; it was instinct for him to control the things around him. It had been a pointless attempt in this case. His mate had her own mind—one he found supremely fascinating—and she knew how to use it. In truth, he didn’t want to control her. He liked that he couldn’t. Admired that she demanded that he respect her insistence on being heard and counted. But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t always push to get his way.

  Using his psychic hands, Knox shackled her wrists and pinned them behind her back. Ignoring her string of curses, he kept her plastered against him with one hand while peeling up her shirt with his other. “It’s healing well,” he said. “The wound’s closed.” He probed the cut on her head. “It seems to also be healing nicely.”

  “I told you I was fine,” she clipped.

  “You did,” he said, pressing a soothing kiss to the sensitive skin of her neck. Not wan
ting to get her all riled up, he released her hands. She splayed her hands on his chest and probably would have tried shoving him away if he hadn’t scraped his teeth over her pulse. He smiled at her little gasp. She was incredibly responsive, and he relished and took advantage of that. Had done since they very first met. It still shocked him just how hard and fast he’d fallen for her. What had shocked him more was that his demon did the same. It hadn’t been long before it pushed to collect and claim her.

  If the entity could have felt love for anyone, it would have been her. Although it lacked the capacity to love, it treasured her. Respected her. Was exceedingly possessive and protective of her. She charmed, amused, and fulfilled it—something Knox wouldn’t have believed anyone would ever be able to do.

  Even if Harper wasn’t their psi-mate, she still would have anchored the entity in her way. It trusted her, which said everything, since the demon trusted no one. She’d given it total acceptance, just as she had Knox. In doing so, she’d sealed her fate. It was firmly and irrevocably attached to her. Once a demon fully committed itself to someone in such a way, it never let them go.

  Knox rubbed his nose against hers. “Love you, baby.” Like that, she lost the stiffness in her spine. Probably because he didn’t say the words often. It wasn’t just because they didn’t come easy to him, it was also because they felt wrong. Weak. Soft. Unlike the love he’d sensed in others, there was nothing soppy or tender about what he felt for Harper. No, it was a dark, intense, hissing, spitting emotion that consumed and clawed at him.

  She went pliant against him. “Love you.”

  It amazed Knox that she did, given the darkness that stained his soul. And, he suddenly remembered, it similarly amazed a certain male hellcat. “Tell me about Drew.”

  She blinked at the abrupt change of subject. “He’s Devon’s older brother. He lives in Cuba, but he came home for a visit.” She tilted her head. “Why was your demon in his head?”