Her demon hadn’t simply killed him. She’d coldly toyed with him before tossing him into the flames of hell – flames she’d somehow been able to conjure since they had, for lack of a better word, “birthed” her wings.
Forced to simply watch as her demon raged and destroyed, high on that power… Harper would never forget how that felt. The demon had wanted to avenge Harper. It had wanted to make Roan and his co-conspirator feel as helpless as they’d made her feel. What her demon hadn’t realized was that its actions had left her feeling utterly powerless too.
She wasn’t upset with her demon. The entity didn’t think the way she did, didn’t “feel” as she did. There was absolutely no point in expecting it to account for any emotional hurt its actions might have caused.
To the demon, it was all very simple: Roan had intended to kill her, therefore he had to die.
Harper understood that, but it still wasn’t easy to accept that she was partly at fault for her half-brother’s death because, dammit, she wasn’t made of stone. So, yeah, maybe she hadn’t slept so well for a while and maybe her appetite had suffered. But that was partly because… “I don’t feel guilty about his death. I feel guilty that I don’t actually regret what me and my demon did that night. It was him or me – I value my life more than I did his. Still, he was my half-brother.” She should feel bad about it.
“Only in a biological sense. He was never once a brother to you, Harper. He never had a kind word to say about you, he repeatedly did things to hurt you, and then he fucking tried to kill you. The imps are your family. He was never a part of it.”
Her demon fully agreed. Harper sighed. “You’re right.”
“I’m always right, baby. You’re just taking a while to realize that.”
She chuckled. “Really?”
“Yes, really. Now finish your breakfast.” He turned up the volume on the T.V., hoping it might distract her from her thoughts. He was about to grab his laptop and finish answering his emails, but the news reporter’s words snatched his attention.
“… when police arrested her this morning after the fire, she told them she’d put her son in the oven because he was a changeling. She allegedly believes that her own child was taken by fairies who left her their child in exchange. Neighbors described Lipton as pleasant and helpful, but they also claimed she was very cold towards her son. Thankfully, the boy was able to escape the house and was relatively unharmed.”
Harper scowled. “She tried burning her son in the oven? That’s sick.”
“Parents claiming their children were changelings was once a common thing,” Knox told her. “Mostly, it was a claim made by people whose children had disorders or developmental disabilities. It was said that in order to identify a changeling and undo the switch, you had to do things such as hit, whip, or burn the child in the oven. Some parents used it as an excuse for murdering their own child.”
Harper gaped. “And they got away with it?”
“Shockingly, yes.” He grabbed his cell from the nightstand and dialed a familiar number. When the demon answered after the second ring, Knox asked, “I saw the news. Anything I need to know?” He wasn’t entirely surprised by the response. “All right. I’ll be at your home in an hour.” Ending the call, he said to Harper, “That was Wyatt Sanders.”
“The detective?”
“Yes.” Wyatt was also one of the demons in their lair. “It would seem that the little boy is a demon.”
Her mouth fell open again. “You mean to tell me that there’s truly such a thing as changelings?”
“There was once upon a time,” he said, rising from the bed. “They were the days before DNA tests could be done.”
Putting the tray aside, she followed him into the walk-in closet. “Seriously?”
Selecting a fresh suit, Knox began to unbutton his shirt. “It didn’t happen very often. When it did, it mostly happened with cambions. As they’re half-human, their inner demons can sometimes lie dormant, making them more or less human. It was considered a kindness to let them be raised in the human world, where they would be fairly normal, than in the brutal world of demons, where they would be considered weak.”
Her response faded into the back of her mind as she watched his muscles fluidly bunching and rippling beneath all that sleek skin. No one had the right to look that good. Seriously. There was no fat whatsoever on that body. He was power and strength and exuded an alpha energy that gave her goosebumps. She just wanted to trace those abs with her tongue —
A low growl rumbled out of him. “You can’t look at me like that, baby. If I thought you could deal with just how hard I need to fuck you, I’d be in you right now.” Knox couldn’t give her soft and slow right then. Not when her fear-filled scream still haunted his mind and a fierce need still beat at him. “But later, when you’ve had time to properly recuperate, I’ll have you.”
“Fascinating,” she said dryly, irritated that he spoke like she was some delicate flower that needed careful handling. If she didn’t know he was still a little shaken after what happened, she’d give him a bucket load of shit for it. Today, she’d cut him some slack.
Taking a seat on the leather sofa in the center of the closet, she said, “Back to the changeling thing… I can understand why it might be considered a kindness for weak cambions, but it wasn’t a kindness to the human children.”
Knox slipped on a fresh shirt and began to button it. “Demons were only permitted to exchange the child for one who was so ill that there was no way they’d live.”
Well, that wasn’t so bad. “You said it isn’t done anymore, but Wyatt claims that the kid is one of us.”
“Yes. And I have every intention of finding out who dared to leave a changeling without my knowledge or permission.”
She pushed to her feet. “I want to come with you.”
He sighed. “Harper —”
“Nu-uh. I’m fully healed, I’ve had a decent sleep, and there’s too much going on in my head for me to relax. Also, this is no small situation.” Slyly, she asked, “Wouldn’t you rather have me with you, where you can see for yourself that I’m fine?”
He narrowed his eyes. “You play dirty.”
“Thanks.”
“I’d still rather you stayed here, within these four walls, where you’re safest.”
She frowned. “Whatever made you think I’d be staying inside these walls all day?”
He tensed. “You intend to go to work?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“Maybe because you were attacked there yesterday.”
“If you think I’ll let anything or anyone taint my studio, you’re out of your mind. I will not be scared in my place of work.” It was her baby; she loved it. “It’s sweet – and undeniably irritating – that you want to wrap me up in cotton wool, but it will never happen. It’s not like it was the first time I was ever attacked. And if this is you trying to distract me from what we were talking about, it won’t work, Thorne.”
He ground his teeth. “I just want you safe.”
“I know that.” Moving to him, she deftly fastened his tie and smiled sweetly. “But, really, what safer place is there for me to be than at your side?”
His little sphinx always knew what buttons to push to get what she wanted, Knox thought with an exasperated sigh. His demon wanted to take her with it; wanted her where it could keep an eye on her. If the entity had its way, she would never leave its side.
The demon became very easily bored and had little patience for people. Harper was really the only thing that gave it a sense of contentment. It was totally charmed by her, found her company… fulfilling. She never failed to amuse and entertain it. When she was around, the demon was more passive and well-behaved.
Knox traced the tattoo-like collar of thorns on her neck with the tip of his finger. It was one of three brands of possession that his demon had left on her skin. He had to agree with Harper that, yes, putting a brand on her throat where it was so highly visible was the equivalent of an “All Rights Reserved” sign, but his demon wanted it to be clear that she was taken. Any demon who saw the brands on her flesh would know what they were; would understand that she was his and his alone.