“They were going to take my rings too,” said Harper. “They were going to sell them.”
His demon snarled at the idea. “Most hunters sell things on the black market. Sometimes they’re hired to obtain something specific. We knew there was a risk that hunters would come for your wings if people were to find out that you could now call them to you.” Sphinx wings were widely coveted. Until some of his power had poured into her mind and given her wings whatever push they’d needed to surface, she’d been known as the sphinx without wings. “We kept them a secret for that very reason, so what I want to know is how the fuck someone outside our close circle of people could have found out about them.”
“The hunters mentioned a guy; it sounded like they were hired by someone.” That suggested the hirer was either stupid or suicidal, in Harper’s mind – and not just because Knox was a powerful Prime of a lair that spanned most of Nevada and even some of California. No, it was also because harming the mate of a demon who was thought to be the most powerful in existence wasn’t advisable – especially when it was rumored that said demon could also call on the flames of hell.
If the hunters’ employer knew just what breed of demon Knox was, Harper strongly doubted they would have fucked with her, no matter how dumb or tired of living they’d become. But very few people knew what Knox was. That only increased the fear that their kind already felt. And since fear and awe came hand in hand in the brutal world of demons, Knox was widely respected and admired.
Being a billionaire who owned a chain of hotels, casinos, bars, restaurants, and security firms, Knox was just as respected and influential in the human world. He hid in plain sight, just like most of their kind. It was hardly surprising to Harper that he was such a powerful figure. Demons loved power, challenges, and control. As such, many were CEOs, politicians, entrepreneurs, bankers, stockbrokers, lawyers, surgeons, police officers, and even celebrities.
“Well, we have someone who can give us the answers that we seek,” said Knox. The hunter was currently in the boathouse on the grounds of the estate. Knox was raring to get his hands on the little fucker.
“You’re going to talk to him now, aren’t you?”
“Talk” wasn’t quite the word Knox would use, but there would be a little talking involved. He sifted his fingers through her hair, watching as the hazel irises of her glassy, reflective eyes suddenly swirled like liquid before turning into a deep ocean-blue. He suspected that no matter how many times he watched their shade change like that, it would always fascinate him. “Not until you’ve fallen asleep. You need rest.”
Harper didn’t want him to go, but she also didn’t want to have to walk him through the rest of what happened tonight, step by step. He was torturing himself enough as it was. “Thank you for somehow hearing me and coming for me.”
He kissed her, savoring her taste. “Thank you for being strong enough to make me hear you. I’ll always come for you.” He held her gaze as he added, “If somebody hired them, I will find out who it was, and I will kill them. I swear that to you.”
She smiled. “You don’t have to swear it. I already know you will.”
As always, her instant faith in him touched Knox. Before Harper, no one had ever looked at him with utter trust – and they’d been right not to do so. He was as ruthless, unforgiving, and merciless as he was rumored to be. He was loyal to very few people, and the only person on Earth who was completely safe from him was Harper. What amazed him about her was that she didn’t doubt that she was safe from him. Not even a little.
Truly, no one – not even Knox – could have blamed her if she did have doubts. She’d seen him at his worst, knew the level of chaos and destruction he could cause, and had watched him conjure the flames of hell. There was only one thing that was impervious to the flames; it was the very thing that was born from the flames. An archdemon. And that was exactly what Knox was.
Unlike what some human religions believed, archdemons didn’t serve Lucifer; they served hell itself. They were as callous and conscienceless as their inner demons; were born to control, command, and destroy. And yet, Harper accepted him, trusted him, loved him.
It wasn’t that she was willfully blind to his power or his true nature – no, she knew exactly what he was, and she’d walked into their relationship with her pretty eyes wide open. But she’d still taken him as her mate, still exchanged rings with him, and still even accepted his inner demon.
In short, she fucking owned him. But that was okay, because she in turn belonged to him.
“No more talking.” Grabbing the remote from the nightstand, he lowered the electronic shades, plunging them into utter darkness. “Now close your eyes. I’ll stay with you until you’ve fallen asleep, and I’ll be here when you wake up.”
Luxuriating in the way his hand gently played with her hair, Harper closed her eyes and let herself drift off.
The boards of the boathouse creaked beneath Knox’s feet as he stalked down one of the narrow walkways that separated the three chrome and fiberglass boats. Moonlight filtered through the windows of the building, illuminating the anxious face of the hunter who sat bound to a wooden chair. He didn’t struggle, didn’t make a sound. All Knox could hear was the water lapping against the hulls and the creak of the taut ropes as the boats rocked slightly.
How’s Harper? asked Levi, his tall, broad frame standing near the wall. He was vibrating with anger. The sentinel didn’t like many people, but he liked and had a great deal of respect for Harper… which was probably why there was one hell of a bruise on the hunter’s jaw.
She’s fine. Sleeping, thankfully, Knox replied. He came to a stop in front of the hunter, who Levi had divested of his camo outfit and combat boots, leaving him in only his boxers and socks – no doubt to make him feel even more vulnerable than he already did.
Knox didn’t bother to conceal his rage. He let it fill the boathouse, just as he’d let it fill Harper’s office. He also allowed his demon to surface just enough to release a low growl. The stench of the hunter’s fear joined the other smells of water, wax, and motor oil.
Knox liked the way the hunter’s tanned face paled and his brown eyes flashed with fear, but he much preferred him as a whimpering mess, huddling in a corner. “Feeling better? That’s a shame.” Casually, Knox stuffed his hands in his pockets. “The upside is… you can talk. And that’s exactly what you’re going to do.”
He snorted, but the sound was too faint to be derisive. “Like I’ll believe you’ll let me live.”
“I don’t recall saying that I’d let you live.” It was truly laughable that the nightmare would think any differently. “We’re not making a deal here and exchanging information for your life. I’m telling you that you’re going to answer my questions truthfully.”