“We need you to teleport us somewhere,” Knox told him. “How many can you teleport at one time?”
The tall, bald demon said, “Four, including myself.”
Knox twisted his mouth. “Is there a limit to how far you can go?”
“I’ve yet to have a problem reaching a destination.”
Keenan rattled off the address of Francisco’s Malibu office. “Can you take us there?”
“Absolutely,” said Armand. “When?”
“No time like the present,” said Knox.
Resting his clasped hands on his office desk, Francisco Alaniz smiled, making the lines of his tanned face deepen. Knox had always thought that the purpose of fake tan was for it to appear natural, not to look literally fake. Maybe Francisco’s skin wouldn’t have seemed quite so dark if his hair wasn’t so light.
Knox accepted the invitation to sit opposite Francisco, but he didn’t return the smile. It was possible that this demon was responsible for what happened to Harper. Knox wanted to shove the guy against the wall and threaten to cut him open and yank out each and every one of his organs, but Knox knew better than to ease the reins on his control. He also had to bear in mind that the Horsemen wanted him to lose it. They persistently targeted Harper because they believed she was his one weakness. They were correct about that.
He did have the option of simply thrusting his mind into Francisco’s to find the truth for himself, but it wasn’t an act that Knox enjoyed doing; it meant sieving through a person’s thoughts, fantasies, memories, and secrets. It was always an overload of information – information he would often rather not have known.
Also, walking around, thrusting his mind into that of others, would make Knox seem weak, in a sense – make him seem like he didn’t trust his own judgement. It would also lose him the respect of many, since it was indeed a violation. He only did it when absolutely necessary.
“I must say it was quite a surprise when my receptionist announced that Knox Thorne was outside my office,” Francisco told him, eyes briefly flicking to Levi, who was stood against the far wall. Only Levi had entered the office with Knox. The others were standing guard outside the door, which Francisco’s receptionist wasn’t too happy about.
Francisco leaned back in his chair. “So, what brings you here, Mr. Thorne? Do you need representation?”
“No. I have some questions for you.”
“Oh? Shame. You’ve got the face and charisma that would take you far in this industry.”
Knox got right to the point. “My mate was attacked recently.”
Expression sympathetic, Francisco sighed. “Yes, I heard about that. They were hunters, correct?”
“Yes. They were under the mistaken impression that she has wings. She’s fully healed. She fought them, which they should have anticipated. Still, it isn’t enough for me that I killed the hunters who attacked her.” Knox’s voice hardened as he added, “I want the demon who hired them.”
Francisco sat up straight. “They were hired?”
“Yes. Someone hired them to obtain her wings. My first thought was that it could be a collector.”
Realization dawned on Francisco’s face. “Ah, I see. You’ve heard about the wings that are displayed on my wall at home.” He sighed. “The only wings on my wall belong to my dead relatives – demons I despised for one reason or another. In truth, I don’t care much for sphinx wings. I’m not interested in collecting them.”
“Yet, you display them on your wall.”
“I took the part of those demons that defined them. You see, in my family, the sphinxes are considered the superior breed. I’m a reaper, just like my mother. She and I have never been good enough for the others. What makes them so different from us? Nothing. They’re not more powerful. They’re not stronger. Yet, some of them felt that they had the right to fuck with me and hurt my mother.”
So he’d stolen from them the one true thing that made the sphinxes so very different from Francisco and his mother, Knox realized.
“I don’t hire hunters, Mr. Thorne. And I do my own dirty work, no matter how dirty it is. Mostly because I don’t like to owe people anything.”
Knox’s instincts told him that Francisco was telling the truth. “I see. Any ideas on who the demon that hired the hunters could be? They sent the hunters an anonymous, encrypted email that deleted itself soon after being read.”
Francisco rubbed at his jaw. “I’ve heard of the method, but there’s only one person who I personally know that uses it.”
“Who?”
“His name’s Dion Boughton. He’s a collector of many things, not just wings. If you’re looking for someone who refuses to get his hands dirty but will risk any wrath to add things to his collection, you should look to him. He has a museum inside his home. From what I’ve heard, he also collects people.”
“People?” Knox echoed.
“He likes to surround himself with the unique, which could have a lot to do with him being a very average person.”
Both Harper and her wings were indeed unique, so Knox would definitely be having a chat with Dion.
“He won’t be easy to speak with. He lives on a private island, which is psychically shielded. If you want to speak to him, you’ll need an invite.”
“Do you have his number?”
Francisco clasped his hands again. “He doesn’t have a phone.”
Levi’s brows drew together. “Who doesn’t have a phone?”
“He’s a technophobe – he rejects any advances in technology, especially anything that interferes with personal privacy, like social media,” said Francisco. “He’s also a bit of a recluse. He doesn’t accept many visitors on his island.” He turned back to Knox. “If you wish to get in touch with him, you’ll need to write to him.”
Knox frowned. “Write to him?”
How archaic. Levi chuckled.
“I have his address.” Francisco retrieved a small, leather-bound file from his desk drawer and flicked through it until he settled on a specific page. “Just send a quick note expressing your wish to meet with him. He should reply within a few days – a week at most.”
Knox took the slip of paper on which Francisco had jotted down Dion’s address. “How is your cousin, Thatcher?”
The abrupt change of subject made Francisco double-blink. “I haven’t heard from him in a while. We don’t talk much.”
“Hmm. If you do speak with him, pass on my best wishes.”
“I will do, Mr. Thorne.”
Knox gave a curt nod and stood. He held Francisco’s gaze as he warned, “If I find out that you’ve lied to me about anything here today, I’ll come for you.”
Francisco swallowed. “I’d expect nothing less.”
“Good. We’ll see ourselves out.”
CHAPTER SIX
“Why do you always take me to weird places to do lessons?” Harper griped.
“I don’t take you to weird places,” said Knox, standing in front of her. “I take you to deserted places where they’ll be no witnesses.”
“Well, this place is certainly deserted.” Harper’s nose wrinkled at the smells of mildew, chalky dust, and sun-warmed stone.
“Look at the situation this way; you’re seeing ancient ruins that have yet to be discovered by humans. That means we won’t be seen by tourists, hikers, or archeologists. And if the flames do get out of hand, all they’ll destroy are buildings, spires, and stone pillars that are already crumbling.”
He was right, Harper thought as she glanced around. Everything was weatherworn and covered in moss, thick ropy vines, and other foliage. Even the stone statues were worn to the point that they were faceless.
What worried her was the snake skin she’d spotted among the rubble. That and the fact that it was eerily quiet. All she could hear were dead leaves scuttling along the stone and scrub bushes rustling with the breeze. “Don’t you find this place even a little creepy?”
“Stop trying to distract me,” Knox gently admonished. He breezed his thumb along her lip. “I know it’s been a week since the attack and nothing else has happened, but that doesn’t mean we should lower our guard. If it makes you feel any better, I don’t think you’ll need more than one lesson. As I know from when I was teaching you to fly, you pick things up very quickly. It only took a few lessons before you were flying alongside me without any help. I know you have reservations about calling the flames, but that’s a good thing.”