A little, replied Knox. How is the clean-up going?
Once you unfroze the people in the café, I pushed the smell of smoke into the air and yelled that there was a fire. Everyone other than Royce—who was shaking on the floor from what I’m pretty sure was soul-deep pain—rushed outside. With regret, I carried the asshole out of there instead of leaving him to burn in the fire that Larkin then started. Once the building was destroyed, she let the hellfire ease away. It was the only way to cover up the scorch marks left behind by the flames of hell.
What was Harper doing in the café? asked Knox, rubbing a silky strand of her hair between his fingers.
She was restless and wanted to go for a drive. I don’t know if she meant to drive to her old studio, but she pulled up outside and just looked at it. She’s hurting that Devon won’t take her calls.
He knew that. Hated that he hadn’t been more sensitive about it. If he had, if they’d talked last night instead of arguing, just maybe she wouldn’t have felt the need to go for that drive. Then the incorporeal wouldn’t have almost killed her.
She went into the café to grab us both some coffee, said Tanner. I saw her talking to Royce, but I figured she could handle him. It happened so fast—one second she was talking to him, the next thing he collapsed to the floor and a weird vapor shot out of him and into the little girl. I bolted out of the car, but the café door iced over before I could get inside.
So Royce had been possessed by the incorporeal. Harper had clearly figured it out if she’d delivered him soul-deep pain, but that pain obviously hadn’t reached the incorporeal. If the incorporeal was in control of Royce, he won’t remember any of what happened. That was a good thing.
Larkin and I slipped away before the human authorities could question us. I’m glad Harper had the presence of mind to call out to you while she was being attacked, because I was too frantic to get inside that fucking café to even think about it.
Just as Knox had been too frantic about her condition to even care much about damage control—he’d left it to his sentinels. You would have called me. She just beat you to it.
Breaking the telepathic connection, Knox glanced down at Harper. She was looking up at him, eyes a little glazed over. His relief at seeing her awake almost felled him. “Hey, baby,” he whispered, mouth curving. A hint of wariness entered her eyes, as if she suddenly remembered their argument and expected him to continue it. As if, worse, she thought he’d verbally strike out at her again. Fuck if that wariness didn’t gut him.
Drawing her closer, he pressed a kiss to her forehead and stroked her back, letting her know without words that the last thing he intended to do was snap at her. All he wanted was to hold, comfort, and soothe her.
“You shouldn’t have let the incorporeal go,” she said, voice a little croaky.
Knox skimmed his thumb over her jaw. “Your life is a billion times more important than its death.”
“It will keep coming.”
“And it will keep failing.”
Harper hoped to God that was true, because she was so done with assholes hurting her and the people she loved. She shifted a little, flexing her toes and fingers. She felt drained and drowsy, but her lungs and throat no longer burned. Still, her muscles were tired and stiff. That didn’t stop her body from reacting to his nakedness—it was a total traitor.
Tossing the hot water bottle aside, she said, “I feel like I’ve been in a car wreck.”
Knox played his fingers through her hair. “You scared me. I could feel you weakening … feel your pulse slowing.” Resting his hand on her chest, he let the steady beat of her heart soothe him. “Too close. I came too close to losing you. Again.”
She swallowed at the torment in his voice. She wanted to be mad at him for what he’d said last night and for keeping things from her. She was mad at him, but it was hard to keep a firm grip on that anger when he looked so tortured. Her demon, on the other hand, had no problem holding onto its rage—it sniffed haughtily at him, unmoved.
“If the incorporeal hadn’t warned me what was happening to you, you would have died right there in front of me.” As the dark reality of that once again hit him square in the chest, Knox tightened his hold on her. “You should have reached out to me and told me how bad it had hurt you—if I’d known, I wouldn’t have spent so much time antagonizing it in the hope that it would make a mistake. I’m not asking why you didn’t. I know why you didn’t. But it’s not a good fucking reason. There’ll never be a good reason for you to die.” But she just stared at him, unapologetic. He dropped his forehead on hers. “You’re going to drive me into an early grave.”
“I’m going to put you into an early grave if you ever purposely hurt me again,” she warned.
Knox stifled a smile. Ah, there was his hissing, spitting kitten. “I’m an asshole.”
“Yes, you are.”
“I didn’t consciously set out to purposely hurt you, but it doesn’t change the fact that I did—I know that. And I’m sorry. I fucked up. Majorly. But I need you to forgive me, baby, because the way you’re looking at me right now—all wary and sad—is killing me.”
Harper wanted to groan. Why did he have to be so good at apologies? Was it so wrong that she wanted to be mad at him for a while? She didn’t think so, but he knew just how to take the wind out of her sails.
“I didn’t mean what I said last night,” he continued. “I don’t think you want Drew. Nor do I think you like having his attention. I said that shit because I was pissed.”
“And hurt.”
“And hurt,” Knox admitted, though he’d never have confessed that weakness to anyone other than her. “It’s been an extremely long time since I had someone in my life who had the power to hurt me. I’m not yet used to it. I can’t say I like that you have that power, but I wouldn’t give you up for anything. No matter how much of a bastard I am, never think that you’re not everything to me.”
“You weren’t here when I woke up,” said Harper. When she’d promised she wouldn’t walk out after arguments as long as he gave her what space she needed to calm, he’d agreed on the condition that she’d never sleep anywhere except beside him. He’d given her space last night, but she suspected that was also because he’d been brooding. “You didn’t sleep beside me.”
“Because, like I said, I’m an asshole.”