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“Devon told me what happened,” began Drew, face sober. “Do you think the person behind it will send someone else after Heidi?”

“I’d like to think that if that was their intention, they would have tried it by now,” said Jolene.

“Nora could have been lying when she said that it wasn’t her,” said Harper.

Keenan nodded. “I agree. Nora hired the hunters who went after you, Harper. She contacted them anonymously using an encrypted, self-deleting email. Heidi’s kidnapper was contacted in the exact same way. It seems too much of a coincidence that two different people would use the same technique to hire demons in such a short space of time.”

“Unless this person is somehow linked to Nora,” said Raini. “I doubt I’m alone in thinking it was the fourth Horseman.”

“But Nora said that they weren’t working together at the time because he/she wanted to keep a low profile for a while,” Harper pointed out. “Sending someone after Heidi isn’t maintaining a low profile.”

“So maybe it wasn’t that they cared about keeping a low profile; maybe it was that they simply didn’t want to work with Nora anymore,” Drew suggested.

> There was a distinct pop followed by the hiss of air. Harper popped her head into the dining room and glanced out of the window that overlooked the backyard. “Oh, shit, the bouncy castle’s deflating.” And Khloë and Martina were struggling to get off it.

They all hurried outside. Keenan grabbed Khloë’s wrist and literally hauled her out of the collapsing castle while Tanner did the same to Martina.

Jolene sighed. “Khloë, what did you do?”

“It wasn’t me!” the small, olive-skinned imp insisted. “We were just lying there, relaxing.”

Martina nodded. “It was weird, the thing just … popped. Then it was caving in, and we were scrambling like idiots to get—”

The air compressor spluttered loudly, and then there was an ominous rattle. The guys all moved to switch it off, but they didn’t appear to be having much luck with it at all.

“Everything all right out here?”

Hearing Ciaran’s voice, Harper twisted to see him peeking out of the back door. “Not really,” she replied. “It burst, and now the air compressor’s having a nervous breakdown.”

Jolene threw up her arms. “I can’t understand what’s wrong with it.”

Feeling Asher’s mind touch hers to get her attention, Harper said, “I’ll just be a sec.” As she headed back into the house, Ciaran went out into the yard to help.

She walked into the dining room. And skidded to a halt, heart jumping into her throat. The kids were still watching the clown, rapt, aside from Asher. He was surrounded by his shield of embers, sparks, and ashes … staring curiously up at the woman a few feet away from him, who was cooing and telling him it was time to go home—a woman who was a carbon copy of Harper.

“What the fuck?” Harper burst out.

Her replica stilled. A surge of glacial energy abruptly whipped across the space, freezing everything and everyone that it touched. Except for Harper. The biting chill only slid over her skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

Snarling, she charged at the bitch, but a bitterly cold wind swept up Harper and flung her out of the room like she was no more than a ragdoll. The breath gusted out of her lungs in a heavy rush as she hit the hallway wall, slamming her head hard.

Coughing and grimacing at the ringing sound in her ears, Harper righted herself. With a grating, crackly sound, the sheet of frost that was spreading along the living room walls began to form a barrier across the doorway. Her heart leaped with horror. Fuck, no.

She quickly squeezed through the slight gap before it could close, scraping her skin along the sharp ice as it tore through her shirt and side. She ignored the pain. Ignored the taste of her fear. Ignored the arctic chill in the room. She only cared about getting to the bitch who was currently probing Asher’s shield, trying to get to him.

Harper was on her in a flash. Fury ripping through her bloodstream, she gripped the other demon by the throat and slammed her into the wall. The protective power that lived inside Harper sprang to her hands and sent soul-deep agony blasting through the bitch—burning every nerve ending, severing every organ, axing every bone, and flaying her soul. The she-demon’s back arched and her mouth opened in a silent scream.

It wasn’t enough for Harper. Not even close. Tightening her hold on the bitch’s throat, Harper slammed her head into the wall over and over and over, relishing the crack of her skull, the look of sheer agony on her face, and the way she struggled for breath as Harper squeezed her throat hard.

There was no mercy in Harper. No reason. No rationality. Only a blinding rage. It had engulfed Harper just the same as soul-deep pain had engulfed the motherfucking bitch in front of her.

Harper’s vision was a haze of red. Her heartbeat thrashed in her ears. Her inner demon roared and hissed, livid and murderous. The agony in the bitch’s expression didn’t appease the entity any more than watching awareness dim from her eyes. No, Harper’s demon wanted to watch the life leave her eyes.

Needing no urging from the entity, Harper whipped her stiletto blade out of her boot, infused hellfire into it, and rammed it into the she-demon’s heart. The bitch sucked in a sharp breath, eyes wide and swirling with pain. But then the throat in Harper’s grip suddenly started to slim. Fade. Grew faint until it became totally insubstantial.

With her vaporous face set into a mask of rage, the she-demon exploded into particles and then disappeared in a whirl of icy smoke.

Panting, Harper stood there, staring at the empty space in front of her. “Fuck.”


Tags: Suzanne Wright Dark in You Romance