Daire growled. “A member of the Council of the Coven Nine does not double as an enforcer, even in case of emergency.”
Her dark eyes sparkled, and she tossed back curly brunette hair. “I’m here as your cousin, not as a pseudo-enforcer.” As a purebred witch, her voice was husky, low, and amused. For her dinner out, she’d donned dark jeans, designer boots, and a leather jacket that probably had cost more than his flat. She was a brilliant smartass, quite happy being a bitch, and made no apologies. Ever.
Daire adored her. “Put yourself in danger again, cousin, and as an enforcer, I’ll lock you down.” His main job as an enforcer was to protect the members of the Nine, and if anything happened to the spirited witch, the world would lose too much beauty.
She rolled her eyes. “Please tell me another little blond human didn’t just take you out.”
He paused.
Adam glanced around at the smashed window and broken glass strewn across the floor, his frown dark. “Again? Who is this Cee Cee?”
The feeling finally returned to Daire’s legs. “She’s actually Felicity Kyllwood.”
Simone gasped, her eyes widening.
Adam stiffened, his mouth pressing together.
“Exactly.” Daire grabbed his phone. “They couldn’t have gone far. Simone, get to your flat and hack into every camera within a mile. Relay the information to us through the earbuds.” He jogged to his room to yank on a dark T-shirt and motorcycle boots.
Adam followed him. “The smart move is to notify Zane Kyllwood and let the demon nation handle the woman.”
“I’m handling the woman,” Daire bit out, reaching for his key from the dresser as he passed by.
“Shit.” Adam, always the strategist, shook his head and followed. He stepped over rubble and broken glass, his phone in his hand, already punching in orders. “I had no sense she was a demon. None at all.”
Daire prowled out of the penthouse and reached the stairs, running down. “She doesn’t have the ability to attack minds, and she can’t teleport. So she doesn’t really give off demon vibes.”
Adam coughed from behind him. “She can’t mind attack?”
“No.”
“Interesting.”
“Not really.” Daire didn’t give a shit if she could attack minds, but it made her vulnerable if she was going after an enemy. At least he wouldn’t have to waste energy shielding against an attack when he caught up to her.
Adam leaped onto his Harley next to Daire. “She seems so innocent.”
“Ha.” The woman had drugged him . . . twice. Yet there was a sense of wonder to her, and even though she’d been sheltered, she’d dealt with pain and loss. Not that her history mattered. As an enforcer, he had the present to deal with, and that pertained to planekite and mines. As a man, he had his woman to deal with—whether she liked it or not.
Adam ignited his bike.
Daire glanced down at his aching hand and slowly turned it over, already knowing what he’d see.
Adam caught the gaze, saw Daire’s palm, and quickly turned the key. The pipes silenced. “You’re kidding.”
“No.” An intricate Celtic knot, the emblem of his people, stood in raised relief on his palm. The marking that a witch transferred to a mate. “It just appeared.”
Adam shook his head. “Wow. She’s a demon, bro.”
“Aye.”
Adam scratched his chin. “Demons brand their mates with the letters of their surnames. If you brand her, will she brand you?”
Daire lifted a shoulder. He’d never met a witch mated to a demon. “If it’s a brand, I’d have to allow it to remain on my skin, I think. Besides, you and I both have had the marking appear before on our flesh.”
“True. Remember that crazy wolf shifter I almost mated? The marking appeared, and I willed it away. Thank God. So don’t worry, you can will that marking away and don’t have to mate the demonness who keeps making you look like an ass.”