Chapter Seven

CHAPTER SEVEN

Khloë thumped her shot glass down on the scarred wooden table. “It’s a relevant question.”

“How is it relevant?” Harper challenged. “Seriously?”

The imp elbowed her cousin. “It is to me, okay. I just want to know how Noah could possibly have fit two of, like, seven million species on an ark. I mean, how big was this goddamn ark? And where can I get one?”

“What would you do with it?” asked Piper, swaying to the loud music playing over the bar’s speakers.

Khloë looked away, pensive. “I gotta admit, I don’t know.”

Larkin tossed back some of her fruity drink, enjoying the burst of sweetness against her tongue. “I don’t think Keenan would be down with you keeping a huge-ass ark in your yard. Just a thought.” She set her glass down on a square cardboard coaster, telling herself that she had not just drunkenly weaved.

Beside her, Raini frowned, her amber eyes a little glassy, and pulled the plastic stirrer out of her mouth. “You still haven’t finished your drink.”

Larkin felt her nose wrinkle. “I don’t think it would be a good idea for me to get blitzed.”

“Well, let me tell you, that ship has sailed,” Khloë told her with a swipe of her hand. “You left sober at the door hours ago.”

Larkin grimaced. “I was afraid of that.” Dammit. “How did it even happen? I didn’t drink as much as you guys.”

“But you were ordering pretty strong drinks,” Harper reminded her. “And you were mixing them.”

“Why is it a big deal, Lark?” asked Devon, sitting on her other side. “Your shift is over. A girls’ night is so much more fun when we’re plastered. And some bodyguards are hanging around, so you don’t have to worry that you’ll need to leap into action if shit goes down.”

Larkin only let out a low hum. When the girls had invited her to the Xpress bar, she’d agreed to go, needing the distraction. Her demon had encouraged her to ‘let go’, have fun, drink to excess, and forget about Holt for a while. Larkin and the other women had had fun talking, laughing, drinking, dancing, and snapping pictures with their phones.

This particular bar was one of the upscale hot spots within the Underground. Neon, strobe lights slashed through the dark space and beamed through the fog. People were everywhere—the bar, the tables, the dance floor, the stage where the DJ performed.

It was always busy and it could get plenty rowdy to the point where the patrons would dance on speakers or tables, or even on the long bar. Khloë had been guilty of that many times.

“Are you worried that that asshole anchor of yours might turn up?” asked Khloë. “Is that why you didn’t want to leave ‘sober’ so far behind?”

Larkin had told the women about him earlier, and they now predictably despised him. “He probably wouldn’t come near me unless I was alone, but it seems better to have all my wits about me just in case I’m wrong.”

She hadn’t seen anything of Holt since he’d showed up at her building three days ago, but he hadn’t checked out of his hotel room. He was still in Vegas. It would only be a matter of time before he approached her again.

As such, lobbing back mounds of alcohol wasn’t the wisest thing for her to do. But it had been a while since she’d downed such strong drinks, and she’d forgotten how hard they hit.

“If Holt shows, we’ll pounce on him as a group,” said Khloë, playing with two lemon wedges, bitch-slapping each with the other. “As for you not wanting to be so blitzed, I have a solution: More shots.”

Piper’s brow furrowed. “I’m not seeing how that’s a solution. What am I missing?”

“We could drink ourselves sober,” the imp suggested. “It’s a thing.”

Raini raised a hand, once more removing the plastic stirrer from between her teeth. “I am all for this. But I want a rum and uh, you know, that thing . . . ”

“Coke?” supplied Harper.

Raini clicked her fingers. “That’s the one.” Shoving her pink-streaked blonde hair over her shoulder, she gave the sphinx a bright, grateful smile. “I can always rely on you to have the answers to my problems.”

Khloë put a hand to her chest. “Aw, that’s such a sweet thing to say. Why don’t you say it to me? I give you advice.”

“You give me advice that will cause me problems,” said Raini. “And you do it because you find the aftermath entertaining.”

“It doesn’t mean I don’t love you.”

“I know. And I love you too.”

“For realsies?”

Raini wrapped her arms around the imp. “For realsies.” She let out a happy sigh. “You smell like chocolate.”

“Oh, I had a white Hershtley bar earlier . . . or whatever they’re called.”

Harper pulled a face. “They don’t really count as chocolate.”

Khloë blinked. “Huh?”

“White chocolate is just cocoa butter mixed with sugar and dairy milk and sweeteners like vanilla,” Harper expanded. “It doesn’t have the cocoa solids that are in both milk and dark chocolate.”

Khloë let out a disbelieving snort. “You talk such bullshit at times.”

“It’s true!” Harper insisted.

“Uh, yeah, okay.”

“It is! How can you so strongly doubt that yet fully believe that the moon’s made of cheese?”

“I trust my source. Aunt Mildred—”

“Ain’t real,” Devon cut in. “And neither is white chocolate.”

Khloë slammed up a hand. “Whatevs, bitches. Now I want shots.” She looked at the succubus who was still hugging her. “You coming?”

Raini let her arms slip away from the imp and then leaned back in her seat. “Leave me here. I’ll only slow you down.”

“No shots for me,” said Larkin. “I’m sticking to water for the rest of the night.”

Harper nodded. “Water it is.” She, Piper, and Khloë then made their way to the bar.

Devon took a sip of her cocktail. “If it makes you feel better, Lark, you’re not as hammered as Raini. I don’t think anyone in this bar is as hammered as Raini is right now.”

“Why is she in such a state?” From what Larkin had observed, the succubus wasn’t a lightweight.

“She made a rookie mistake and drank on an empty stomach. I told her not to, but she wouldn’t listen.”

“I hate it when people don’t listen. And when they won’t go away. And when they screw you over and think you’ll simply just let it go.” Like Holt. Who she wasn’t supposed to be thinking about. Ugh.

“I can’t imagine how hard it must be to have a psi-mate you’d prefer to shoot in the dick than bond with.” Devon idly stroked her fingertip down her highball glass, smudging the sheen of condensation. “How come you never told us about him before?”

Larkin lifted her glass. “Don’t take it personally. I make a point of not talking about him with anyone unless I absolutely have to. I prefer to pretend he doesn’t exist.” Cubes of ice clinked against the glass and bumped her lips as she took a sip of her drink.

“I guess I can understand that. It’s just that I’m sitting here remembering all the times I gushed about how much I adored my anchor and am grateful for how fabulous he is. The whole time, it must have hurt you to hear it.”

“No, no, it didn’t, I swear. Don’t get me wrong, when people talk happily and proudly about their psi-mates, I sometimes find myself thinking just how different things could be if my anchor hadn’t been Holt. But I never feel jealous of others or resent what they have.”

“Then you’re a better person than I am, because I’m pretty sure I’d be green-eyed with envy and want to go—Jesus, Raini, get off the floor. What are you doing down there anyway?”

Flat on her ass, the succubus glanced around, confused. “I don’t know. I was on my chair. And then I wasn’t. Like magic.” She grinned at her martini glass. “But look, I didn’t spill my drink.”

Devon gave her a thumbs up. “Impressive.”

“Here, I’ll help you.” Larkin carefully assisted the succubus in returning to her seat—not the easiest thing in the world, since Larkin wasn’t too steady herself.

“Thank you.” Raini leaned into her. “You’re the best harpy in the history of the universe. Don’t let anyone tell ya different.” Closing her eyes, she settled right there against Larkin’s side.

“How about we shove aside the subject of your wasteless anchor and talk about how things are going with you and Teague,” Devon proposed.

“I’m all for the first part of your suggestion,” replied Larkin. “But I ain’t giving you details on my relationship with Teague.” She hadn’t seen him since dinner at Jolene’s house, but she’d really, really wanted to.

Strange though she found it, she’d missed him. A little. Sort of. In a sense.

“I know you’re a private person but come on tell me something.”

Larkin shook her head at the hellcat. “You are so damn nosy.”

“But in an endearing way, right?” Devon put a hand on her arm. “I just want a few juicy details and then I’ll let it go. Until then, I’m gonna keep pestering you. I will not be distracted. I’m definitely not gonna—ooh, shots.” She sat up straighter as Harper placed a tray on the table.

Retaking her seat, Khloë nudged Raini. “Hey, wake up.”

The succubus’s eyelids flickered open, and she righted herself . . . only to weave and bump into Khloë. “Hey, watch where you’re walking.”

“I’m not walking,” said the imp. “You’re not walking either.”

Raini looked down at herself. “Oh yeah. You coulda told me sooner.” She lounged back in her seat, and her eyes once more fell shut.

“She’ll be fine,” Khloë decided. “So, what are we talking about?”

Devon opened her mouth and then frowned. “I don’t remember.” She looked at Larkin. “Do you?”

Actually . . . “No. But let’s think of something we could talk about. Something deep. Meaningful. Intriguing.”

Piper’s eyes gleamed. “Ooh, like what?”

“I have something,” Khloë announced. “Okay, do we think that invisible pink unicorns really exist?”

Harper tipped her head to the side. “If they do, they’re invisible. So we wouldn’t know.”

“But we can speculate,” Khloë pointed out. “So let’s speculate.”

They did that for a little while, right up until Raini’s head snapped up and her eyes flipped open like she’d been dealt a slap. “Hmm, Maddox is coming for me in a minute,” the blonde announced, sitting upright.

“So is Knox.” Harper tapped her temple, adding, “He gave me a telepathic heads-up not too long ago.” She swept her gaze over Larkin, Piper, Khloë, and Devon. “He said that your guys are on their way, too.”

“Our guys?” Larkin echoed.

“Yup.”

Surely not. Larkin telepathically reached out to Teague. Are you heading to the Xpress bar?

His mind touched hers, and then his voice poured into her mind like a river. I figured I better had, since Tanner telepathed me to say you were blitzed. It was obviously a test to see if I’d come take you home.

Freaking interfering hellhound. She might have missed Teague, but she would rather he didn’t see her while she was wasted. If she did or said something dumb, he’d never let it go. He’d tease her about it for all eternity.

Maddox materialized on the spot between Khloë and Raini’s chair. It had to be said that the man. Was. Fine. Tall and dark with striking Prussian blue eyes.

His sentinel, Hector, appeared behind him, at which point Raini’s bodyguard sidled up to him.

The succubus smiled up at her mate, looking the epitome of lovestruck. “Hey. You’re taller than I remember.”

Maddox’s lips twitched. “You’re more plastered than I thought you’d be.”

“Funny how things work out, huh?” Raini awkwardly stood. “Bye girlies.”

Hugs and air-kisses and waves were quickly exchanged before Maddox, Raini, and their bodyguards teleported out of there.

Knox and the male sentinels appeared only moments later. Both Harper and Piper immediately stood to greet their mates, but both Devon and Khloë remained slumped on their seats.

“What’s wrong?” Keenan asked his mate.

Khloë pouted. “I can’t find my lipstick.”

“It’s in your drink,” he told her.

She blinked down at the small tube floating in her half-empty glass. “Huh. How did that happen?”

Tanner squeezed Devon’s shoulder. “Come on, kitten, up you go.”

“Someone stood on my foot,” whined the hellcat. “It hurts.”

“To stand?” he asked.

Devon shook her head. “No.”

Tanner flicked a hand. “Then get up.”

Piper snorted at him. “Dude, you are stone cold. Carry her or something. You’re supposed to be her white knight.”

“Speaking of white, Harper keeps saying there’s no such thing as white chocolate,” Khloë groused to her mate, using a napkin to dry her lipstick.

Keenan sighed at Harper. “Did you really have to tell her that? She’s gonna whine about it all night, and I’ll be the one who has to listen to it.”

The sphinx grinned. “You have fun with that.”

“Teague!” hollered Khloë, waving.

Her pulse skittering, Larkin tracked the imp’s gaze. Striding toward their table, he flashed his anchor a grin that made Larkin’s stomach churn with jealousy; her demon didn’t like it either. But then his gaze slid to Larkin, and his grin widened as it became something else—something sexy and warm and purely for her.

Stopping in front of her chair, he stroked her hair. “Hey there, baby.”

Larkin smiled, unable to pretend to herself that she didn’t like his use of the endearment. “How’s it going, Black Beauty?”

“Better now.” He helped her stand, chuckling when she stumbled. “Easy.” Ignoring her insistence that she could do it herself, he slipped her jacket on her. “Now let’s go before you pass out.”

Affronted, she huffed. “I won’t pass out.”

“Uh-huh.”

The hand on the small of her back steered her away from the table and out of the bar. As they all walked to the elevator, she sniffed at the sight of her friends leaning against their guys . . . only to frown when she realized she was letting Teague take some of her weight.

Too tired and mentally fuzzy to care, she didn’t push away from him. Or step back when he held her close in the elevator. Or argue when he insisted on helping her climb the basement stairs of the club.

But she did telepathically tell her demon to stop sending her images of him fucking her hard.

The entity, being the little bitch that it was, didn’t listen.

Outside the club, Teague guided Larkin straight to Saxon’s truck. He’d never seen her drunk before. She was cute as fuck. Sniffing and huffing and frowning. He should have guessed that his prickly harpy would turn even pricklier when smashed.

He wasn’t surprised when she passed out during the journey to her complex. She was gonna be pissed about that tomorrow. The idea made him smile.

When he arrived at her building, Teague lifted her out of the car and hoisted her up. She slumped against him, her arms dangling over his shoulders. As he carried her to the main door, he couldn’t help but chuckle to himself. She was going to be mad at herself for this, too.

Tanner held open the door for him while keeping his mate plastered against his side. Teague tipped his chin in thanks and breezed into the lobby. There, Levi and Piper were walking into the elevator. Teague followed them inside, closely followed by Tanner and Devon.

Teague didn’t miss how the other two males watched to see which button he’d push on the panel. They clearly wanted to see if he knew where Larkin’s apartment was—that would be a clue as to if she truly was his girlfriend.

As it happened, Teague would have had no idea what apartment she lived at if Piper hadn’t telepathically told him mere moments ago.

A short elevator ride later, he strolled along the hallway toward Larkin’s front door. Piper came to his rescue again, fishing the harpy’s set of keys out of her jacket and then unlocking the door. Teague thanked her, took the keys, and then carried Larkin inside, closing the door behind them.

Her apartment smelled like her. Rich and heady and feminine. The living space was bright and spacious. No bold colors or frills. The tones were gentle and earthy—mostly pastel shades that gave it a calming feel.

Walking along the hall in search of her bedroom, he saw that the ‘gentle and earthy’ look continued throughout. Finally reaching his destination, he carried her inside. The space was soothing with its crème and lavender color theme. There were no throw pillows or unnecessary accessories on his harpy’s bed. That made pulling back the duvet easier.

He placed her keys on her nightstand and then laid her carefully on her bed. Her head lolled to the side, but she didn’t otherwise move. He managed to remove her jacket and shoes without jostling her too much. Not that it disturbed her sleep—she was totally out of it.

Suspecting she might be uncomfortable sleeping with her hair braided—okay, fine, he wanted to see that glossy curtain free around her face just once—he gently removed the hair tie and then carefully unraveled as much of the braid as he could reach.

The strands were so soft and sleek they almost felt cool to the touch. Like silk. And when her curls were fanned all over the pillow, he felt his gut clench. It took everything he had not to bury his hands in them.

Teague stared down at her. Fuck, she was beautiful. Everything he looked for in a woman—fearless, confident, badass, accepting, strong-willed. If their situations weren’t what they were, if things had been different . . . But they weren’t different. Never would be.

He gently squeezed her leg. “Sleep well, harpy.”

He turned on his heel and strode toward the door, his libido firmly protesting and—

“I did not say you could leave.”

He halted. That wasn’t Larkin’s voice. Well, it was. But it wasn’t. Her tone was never flat and emotionless, unlike the one he’d heard mere seconds ago. Which meant that it wasn’t Larkin who spoke; it was her demon.

Teague slowly pivoted on the spot. The demon was sat upright, its pure black eyes focused on him. It slinked off the bed, fluid as a snake.

His own demon pushed close to the surface and watched as hers began to circle him. A predator appraising him somewhat objectively. As if he were an object as opposed to a person.

There was a light of something not quite sane in the dark orbs that stared at him. That light intrigued both him and his beast. But, not about to be continually circled as if he were prey, Teague flicked up a brow and asked, “Should I be flattered that you can’t seem to look away?”

The demon came to a stop in front of him and cocked its head. “I like the shape of your skull.”

He blinked at the matter-of-fact statement. A statement that was also a clear indication that the demon was contemplating what part of him it might keep as a trophy if it chose to kill him. “Uh, okay.”

“You and I must talk.”

Sounded ominous.

It backed him into the bed, pushed him down, and then straddled him.

Well, all right.

He splayed his hands on its thighs. “What do you want to talk about?”

The demon traced his hairline with a fingertip. “He will be trouble.”

“He? Your psi-mate, you mean?”

Something ugly rippled in its eyes. “He would have been my anchor if he were not worthless. I want to obliterate him so completely that it will be as if he never existed. But my killing him would create problems between the two lairs unless it is a matter of self-defense.”

“You want to provoke him,” Teague sensed, nodding in approval.

“It will be easy. He wants more than an anchor bond from her. Much more.” The demon poked his chest. “You will help me make him jealous. Then he will attack. And I will then shatter every bone in his body one by one, until he is a twisted, disfigured mess. It will be somewhat epic.”

Teague couldn’t help but smile. He really liked this demon. “Can I watch?”

It pursed its lips. “Perhaps. If you are still alive.”

“Still alive?”

“It may be that you have betrayed her between now and then. People seem to enjoy betraying her one way or another. If you join them in that, I will destroy you. But I will leave your skull intact and strip it down to the bone. It will make a nice ornament.”

He chuckled. “A nice ornament, huh?” His beast let out an amused chuff as it paced just beneath his skin, riveted by the entity, wanting its attention. “That’s not a compliment I’ve been paid before.”

Its head twitched to the side. “You do not fear me. Pity. I like the smell of fear. I like to see it dance in a person’s eyes.”

“I like whales.”

Its mouth slowly quirked, and then it giggled. The creepy sound trailed down his spine like icy fingers and made an honest to God’s shiver wrack his body.

“You are fun,” it said. “How strong is your pain threshold?”

“You want to torture me?”

“I would not kill you. Or break your mind. I would just like to see how you look when terror lights your gaze. It is such a shame that the emotion bleeds out of a person’s eyes when they die, or I would keep all their severed heads on shelves.”

A slow smile spread across Teague’s face. “I have to say, you fucking fascinate me.”

“Then you will sign up for a session in torture?”

He snorted. “Uh, no. Your assurances aside, I don’t trust that I’d definitely escape it alive.”

“Wise.” It frowned, adding, “She will soon wake. There is one thing I must do before I go.”

“What?”

It closed its mouth over his and sank its tongue inside. The demon palmed the side of his neck as it kissed him hard and wet and deep. Then the flesh beneath its hand began to prickle. Heat. Burn.

Teague hissed but didn’t pull away. Not only because what should have been pain instead became pleasure, but because he knew the demon wasn’t trying to harm him.

No. It was branding him.

Entities could rise and brand a lover if they felt possessive. But he had the distinct feeling that he was being marked for a whole other reason. A ruthless reason he very much approved of.

The demon ended the kiss and then admired its brand with a pleased hum. “As I said, you will help me make him jealous.”

Oh, Holt would seethe at the sight of the mark if he did in fact have none-too-platonic feelings for Larkin. “She’s gonna be furious about this. You know that, right?”

“She will pretend to be furious. Secretly, she will like the look of it on your skin.” The entity fingered his collar. “Do hurry and seduce her. I would like you and your demon to fuck me.”

A grin shaped his mouth. “I just love how direct you are.”

It nipped his lower lip. “We shall speak again soon.” Its eyes fell closed, and the warm female body on his lap melted against him as the entity clearly withdrew.

Larkin began to stir within seconds, making sleepy little moans that tugged at his gut. Finally, she sat upright, her eyelids flickering. As her situation hit her, the harpy’s brows snapped together, and she went absolutely rigid. “Why am I sitting on you?”

He cupped her hips, his hold undeniably possessive. “I didn’t put you here, if that’s what you’re thinking. Though I like having you where you are, so feel free to stay. I was about to head home, but then your demon wanted to have a little chat with me.”

“A chat?” she echoed, clearly confused.

“Yeah. While straddling me.”

She squinted. “What exactly did it want to speak to you about?”

“A few things. There was some talk about its likes—the smell of fear, torturing people, seeing terror dance in a person’s eyes. Stuff like that. Oh, and there was the kiss.”

Her eyes widened. “Kiss? Why did—oh my God, what in the fuck?”

He smiled as she gawked at the side of his neck. “So. Yeah. It branded me.”