Chapter Two

CHAPTER TWO

“Hey, wake up.”

Lying on her stomach, Khloé grunted. “Fuck off.” There was an awful draft as the covers were dragged off her body.

“Wake up,” urged Ciaran. “Grams needs your help. Like now.” Just like that, tension zipped through her. Khloé lifted her head. “Help? Why?”

“I don’t have time to explain. Come on, we need to go.”

She edged out of bed and began pulling on clothes. “Give me the bare bones of the situation.”

Facing the wall to give her some privacy, he replied, “Some shit’s gone down with Enoch. It’s just … fucked up.”

Enoch had been a member of their lair since before they were born. She didn’t know him well—he mostly kept to himself. That suited her fine, because something indefinable about him rubbed her demon up the wrong way. “I’m ready. What do you mean by fucked up?”

Ciaran turned to face her and grabbed her hand. “Brace yourself. You’re not gonna like what you see.”

A slight breeze swept over her skin, the world around her flashed white, and then Khloé found herself stood in—ah, hell—a basement. She hated basements. They were dark and creepy and dank. And, God, the stench in this one was foul. Like rot, decay, and old blood.

Hearing two voices behind her, she spun. Her mouth fell open in horror, and she almost jerked back a step. Her inner demon recoiled, just as disgusted.

Oh God, this was wrong. So very, very wrong. Twisted, even.

“Ah, your grandchildren have come to join you, Jolene,” Enoch said, a bitter twist to his mouth. “Isn’t that sweet?”

Jolene didn’t glance their way. Like the two sentinels at her back, Orrin and Mitch, she kept her attention locked on Enoch.

He cut his gaze back to the Prime. “You won’t take my daughter from me,” he told her, his jaw set, his chin high, his chest thrust out—clearly aiming to look as intimidating as possible as he stood between her and the twisted sight behind him.

“You think this is good for Molly?” Jolene challenged, clearly not in the least bit rattled. The woman might be crazy, but she was also a strong, shrewd Prime who could blow shit up with a mere thought, so she had every right to be confident in the face of a threat. “You think it’s fair to her?”

His nostrils flared. “It’s better than her being six feet under the goddamn ground.”

She sighed. “Enoch—”

“Leave,” he bit out. “This isn’t your business.”

Jolene lifted her chin a notch. “Oh, this is very much my business. When you first joined my lair, you made me a promise that you wouldn’t use your main gift without consulting me. You broke that promise.”

Oh, he’d broken it in a spectacular fashion, thought Khloé, as she and her brother flanked Jolene. She could already guess why her grandmother had sent for her, and she wanted to be ready to make her move.

“I haven’t done anyone any harm,” he insisted.

“If the parents of those poor children behind you knew what you’d done, they’d be devastated,” said Jolene. “That means nothing to you?”

“I brought their children back from the dead—they’d be pleased. Grateful.”

Grateful? This guy was warped for sure. The decomposing kids breathed, moved, and sluggishly shuffled around on their little feet within the translucent forcefield that surrounded them. But there was nothing of those kids there. No personality or spirit or life.

With the exception of little Molly, Khloé didn’t recognize any of them, so she could only assume he’d exhumed them from human cemeteries. None appeared to have been dead more than a few years, but there was no way their parents could look at them and fool themselves into believing their kids were “back” from the dead. They were just empty shells.

Although he’d clearly cleaned and redressed them—even going as far as to brush and style their hair, which she couldn’t help but find seriously freaking weird—the sight was still nauseating. Especially with their rotting, pale, sagging flesh and their vacant soulless eyes. And he treated them like they were dolls or something.

“You didn’t resurrect their souls, Enoch,” said Jolene. “You merely took control of their corpses; you use them as puppets. You desecrated their graves and disturbed their rest.”

His mouth tightened. “Molly needed friends.”

“Molly is dead. It’s tragic, but it’s true. That isn’t your child over there. It’s her body. It’s no more than a suit she no longer needs. Her soul has moved on.”

“She talked to me. She knew me—”

“At first, yes, she probably did. But I’ll bet it wasn’t long before she lost whatever echoes of herself were left in that body. It’s an ‘it’ now, not a ‘she.’ Not a living person. Not Molly.”

“Just because she’s not your definition of alive doesn’t make her gone. What she is now … it’s just another state of being. There’s nothing wrong with it.”

Jolene sighed. “I understand you must feel very alone right now, especially since your mate walked out on you a few years back. But no amount of pain or loneliness gives you the right to do what you’ve done. You need to return all those bodies to their graves—”

“I won’t lose Molly,” he gritted out.

“You already lost her, Enoch. Let her rest in peace.”

His jaw hardened. “She stays with me.”

“Don’t make me take this matter into my own hands. I’ve been gentle with you because I know you’re in great pain, but that can change in a heartbeat.”

He smirked. “There’s nothing you can do. Any living thing that touches that forcefield will die. You have no way of getting past it. Of course, you could kill me, but you’d fail to make it a permanent death—not even you could destroy a Lazarus demon. My body would turn to ash, but I wouldn’t psychically be dead, so the forcefield would remain intact. And when my body regenerated, I’d come back for my girls. You can’t get to them.”

“Last chance, Enoch,” said Jolene. “Agree to return the children to their graves.”

His mouth twitched into an ugly smirk. “Or what? Oh, I get it, you intend to sic your granddaughter on me.” He chuckled and cut his gaze to Khloé. “My kind is resistant to mind control, so you can’t force me to do your bidding, no matter how strong you are.”

Well of course he’d assume that was why she was there. He didn’t know of Khloé’s other ability—many didn’t. “Jolene didn’t call me here to hijack your mind,” she said, flexing her fingers as the potent force humming in her belly pushed for freedom.

Sliding her gaze to the forcefield, Khloé lifted her hand, palm-out, and sent out a blast of electric fire. A beautiful mix of blue and amber, it crackled and flickered as it rippled through the air. The power enveloped the forcefield like a net, buzzing and sizzling. She snapped her fist closed, and the electric net sliced through the forcefield.

“No!” yelled Enoch, his eyes wide. A smoky, black sphere appeared in his hand. The fuck? He tossed three in quick succession.

Her grandmother slammed up a hand, causing a protective shield to pop up in front of her, Khloé, Ciaran, and the sentinels. The shield absorbed two of the orbs, but it didn’t pop up fast enough to block all three.

The other sphere crashed into Khloé’s head and … God, it was like having someone pour noxious gas up her nose and into her mouth. It seemed to burn her insides as it dived down her lungs and consumed the oxygen there.

Dropping to her knees, she coughed and gagged and tried sucking in fresh air, but it was like the dark force blocked her airways. She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t fight it.

She was distantly aware of the mayhem around her—of the sentinels surrounding her, of hellfire orbs being tossed, of Enoch screaming in agony, of the corpses collapsing to the floor, of a cluster of ashes zooming out of the basement window like a swarm of bees. But she was mentally caught up in the fact that she was choking.

Spots filled her vision. Her burning chest screamed for air. A feeling of weightless fluttered through her.

Her demon went apeshit, knowing they were both going to die—

A hand slapped against her back, and power punched inside her like a cold breeze. It drew her own power like a magnet. The two forces clashed and melded into one. Then it exploded.

Wave upon wave of power rushed through her, clearing the darkness that clogged her lungs. Khloé sucked in a sharp breath. And another. And another. And another. God, fresh air had never tasted so good.

“Stop, or you’re going to hyperventilate,” said Ciaran, his hand still on her back. “Breathe slowly. Come on, deep breath in, deep breath out.”

Struggling to fight the reflexive urge to suck in mounds of air, she concentrated on trying to calm her breathing. Soon enough, the dark tinge to the edges of her vision cleared, but panic remained a living thing inside her. And, Jesus, what was that godawful taste on her tongue?

Looking up at her twin, she gave him a nod of thanks. They’d always been able to join their collective power that way, but they didn’t do it too often as it left them both wiped.

Ciaran rubbed her back. “You okay?”

“Never better,” croaked Khloé. She coughed to clear her throat. “What the fuck did he hit me with?” She coughed again as Orrin and Ciaran helped her stand.

“I’m not entirely sure,” said Jolene. “I’m assuming it was a poisonous gas of some kind, considering you almost choked to death. Mitch, go get her some water.”

The sentinel promptly disappeared up the basement’s staircase.

Jolene rested a hand on her shoulder. “I’d apologize for bringing you into this, but I had to send for you. You’re the only one in our lair who could have collapsed that forcefield. I had no other way of freeing those children.”

Rubbing her aching chest, Khloé said, “It’s fine.” She looked at the spot where Enoch had stood. “Shame you didn’t kill him for good.”

Jolene sighed. “I had hoped to make him see reason, but that didn’t work so well.”

Just then, Mitch reappeared with a tall glass of water. “Here, drink this.”

“Thanks,” said Khloé. She took the glass and practically inhaled the water.

“Feeling better?” asked Orrin.

She nodded. In truth, she felt like utter shit.

“How long do you think it’ll be before Enoch’s body regenerates?” asked Ciaran.

“Probably a few days.” Jolene smoothed a hand down her blouse and swatted at the material of her sleek pencil skirt, as if she felt stained by the whole encounter. The veneer of elegance she oozed was an innate quality that Khloé couldn’t help but envy.

“If he has any sense, he’ll disappear,” Jolene went on. “I might not be able to kill a Lazarus demon, but I can certainly make him suffer a terrible death, over and over.” She looked down at the corpses. “Since bodies can’t be resurrected more than once, these poor little ones will be safe from him in the future.”

“Jolene,” said Mitch, who’d wandered over to the other side of the basement and was staring into a large wooden trunk. “There’s something you need to see.”

Khloé and the others followed her grandmother, who sidled up to Mitch. Peering into the trunk, Khloé felt her stomach lurch. She jerked back. “Holy fuck.”

“Lolita,” said Jolene with a sigh, staring at the dead body. Much like the children, its clothes were clean, and its hair had been styled into a tidy braid. But it was mighty clear by the state of decomposition that the corpse had been dead for a number of years.

“Either he lied that Lolita walked out on him or he caught up to her,” said Mitch. “Whatever the case, it seems highly likely that he killed her.”

“If she threatened to leave him, it’s possible he killed and then reanimated her to keep her with him,” mused Orrin. “Why wouldn’t he have kept her body with Molly’s?”

“He sees them all as living beings of a sort,” said Jolene. “To him, they’re truly not dead. If he’s angry with Lolita, he wouldn’t reunite her with their daughter.”

Khloé nodded. “Keeping her trapped in a trunk seems something of a punishment to me.”

Ciaran shoved a hand through his hair. “This is all so unbelievably fucked up.”

Orrin turned to the Prime. “Me, Mitch, and the other sentinels will take care of moving the bodies. You, Khloé, and Ciaran should go breathe in some air that isn’t filled with death.”

Jolene put a hand to her throat. “It just devastates me that we’ll have to cremate the human children’s corpses if we can’t locate their resting places. They don’t deserve that.”

“Enoch probably would have taken them from local cemeteries,” said Ciaran. “Want me to make some calls and find out if there’s been reports of bodies being exhumed?”

“Yes,” said Jolene. “He must have taken them at some point in the last month, since they were supposed to be ‘friends’ for Molly. She died four weeks ago tomorrow. I can’t say for sure how soon after that he reanimated the other corpses. If one of our lair members hadn’t noticed that Molly’s grave had been desecrated, I might never have learned what he’d done.”

“He could come back for her body,” said Orrin. “It would be pointless, I know, since he can’t resurrect her again. But he’s not ready to let her go yet. It might be best to have someone watch over her grave.”

Mitch nodded. “Then we can grab him if he reappears.”

“Once she’s back in the cemetery, arrange for some of our Force to stand watch but to stay out of sight,” Jolene ordered. “The rest of us need to work on tracking him. He doesn’t have many living family members. Those that are alive belong to another lair. I’ll pay them each a visit and see if he’s contacted any of them. They could even give him sanctuary.”

“I want to be there,” said Khloé.

“Yes, I thought you might,” Jolene groused. “I’ll allow it, since he may well pop up a shield to protect himself. And while it vexes me that you’d make such a request to come along yet refuse to accept my offer for you to join our Force’s ranks, I won’t comment on it.”

“You just did.”

“Then I won’t comment on it again.”

“I’ll go make those calls and see if I can find out where he took the human kids from,” announced Ciaran.

Khloé put a hand to her stomach. “I say we both go throw up first.”

Her brother pursed his lips. “Sound idea.”

*

Slurping her mango smoothie, Khloé glanced out the window that overlooked the Underground. The place was busy twenty-four/ seven, and this part of the strip got a lot of foot-traffic due to it being close to the mall and the most popular eateries and bars. “No sign of Harper and Devon yet,” she told Raini.

It had become their ritual for all four women to meet at the coffeehouse before work, since their tattoo studio was located next door. Whoever arrived first at the coffeehouse often bought drinks for the others to save them having to wait in the long-ass queue.

Around them, voices murmured, machines hummed, and dishware clattered. The delicious scents of fresh pastries, coffee beans, and vanilla filled the air.

“They’ll be here soon,” said Raini. “I hope they bring Asher. I haven’t seen him in over a week. I miss my little dude. Is he or is he not the most adorable thing ever?”

“Totally. And he cracks me up.”

Demonic children were more advanced than humans, so the eighteen-month-old could talk a little and had excellent balance. He also had a very firm grip on his abilities—some of which were seriously impressive. But if he were her kid, it would make her a little nervous that such a high concentration of power lived within him. There was a current rumor going around that he could conjure the flames of hell, though she had no idea where it came from.

“God, my head is killing me. I don’t get why they call it a hangover,” said Raini, rubbing her temple. “Shouldn’t it be called, like, a drunk-over? I don’t see where the ‘hang’ part comes in.”

Bracing her elbows on the bistro table, Khloé slanted her head. “You know, I’m annoyed that that didn’t occur to me before now.”

“I feel bad for humans. Demons rarely get hangovers; ours never last long. But humans, well, that’s a whole other story.” Raini sipped at her coffee. “From now on, we should call this circle-of-hell state either a drunk-over or a blitzed-over.”

“I vote for the latter.”

“Then it is done.”

Khloé gave a curt nod. Spotting a familiar figure walk by, she frowned. “On another note … I can’t help but notice that members of Maddox’s lair seem to pass by us a lot these days.”

Raini turned stiff as a board. “They do, don’t they?” she clipped.

Maddox Quentin was not only a local Prime, he was Raini’s anchor. All demons had predestined psychic mates that were often referred to as anchors. When they fused their psyches together, they created an unbreakable link that gave each other the strength, stability, and power to maintain dominance over their inner entity—meaning they would never turn rogue.

Although the anchor bond wasn’t emotional, anchors were exceedingly loyal to one another and often became close friends. They also supported and protected each other. They trusted each other more than they trusted their Primes, partners, and friends. Sometimes anchors were a little too protective, not to mention notoriously possessive—even if the latter was only on a platonic level.

Raini and Maddox had first met at his club, the Damned, when her lair was searching for information on who’d tried to have Devon kidnapped. In fact, Devon had originally thought he might have brokered the deal—he was known for doing such things.

Given that Maddox was also rumored to be a somewhat pitiless, unremorseful demon who possessed very few ethics, it was little wonder that Raini was disappointed to have him as an anchor. He was a “descendant,” a breed of demon that came into being after The Fallen mated with demons and created something darker than dark. They were a secretive, inclusive bunch who never permitted anyone outside of their own breed to join their lairs.

Raini and Maddox hadn’t formed the anchor bond, and it didn’t seem as if either party wanted to. But he didn’t seem inclined to leave her alone. He telepathed her often, even though she never responded to him. But she hadn’t been clear to anyone on just what he said when he contacted her.

“Do you think he has people subtly watching over you?” Khloé asked.

Raini gave a haughty shrug. “Don’t know, don’t care.”

Yes, she did. Anyone who knew the succubus well could sense that it was getting to her. “Has he said anything to indicate he wants the anchor bond?”

“No. He mostly just telepathically checks-in to see if I’m fine, even though I never answer.” Raini sighed. “He was supposed to get bored and leave me alone.”

Khloé could recall the moment that Maddox and Raini discovered they were anchors; could remember how his shock had quickly been replaced by a dark, proprietary look. “I know from experience that the pull of the anchor bond is seriously strong. He’s probably having a hard time fighting it. Aren’t you?”

Raini looked down into her mug. “My demon keeps pushing me to seek him out; it wants the bond. But I don’t want an anchor I can’t trust, Khloé. Maddox Quentin is not a demon who can be trusted.”

“That doesn’t mean he wouldn’t be someone you could trust. Demons are often different with their anchors.”

“I don’t see that it matters much. He’s never claimed to want the bond.”

“He probably doesn’t want it. Tanner said he’s a control freak. A control freak won’t react well to something being completely outside of his control. But that doesn’t mean Maddox won’t eventually lose the fight. And if he does, he’ll come for you. You need to be ready for that.”

It wouldn’t be easy to deal with him. The guy hummed with a dark power that had both intrigued and unnerved Khloé’s demon. “We’ll all be here for you. And we’ll burn his dick with hellfire if he upsets you.”

A weak chuckle bubbled out of Raini. “That should be fun to watch.”

On hearing the bell above the door chime, Khloé looked to see Harper, Tanner, Devon, and Keenan breeze into the coffeehouse. She felt her eyebrows dip. Given that Tanner was Harper’s bodyguard and Devon’s mate, the three often rode to the Underground together. Keenan, however, didn’t usually accompany them unless Asher was present. Today, he wasn’t.

As Keenan’s blue eyes locked on her, remnants of last night’s raw need stirred in her belly. Unbidden, his words whispered into her mind …

I swear to Christ, Khloé, if you mention my cock one more time, I’m going to thrust it inside you and fuck you so hard you’ll be screaming.

Khloé shoved the memory in a mental box and wrapped it in parcel tape. She would not think about it. Or about their wager. Or about their hot little eye-fuck. Nope.

Taking in the hard set of his jaw and the dark glitter in his eyes, it was clear he had a bug up his ass about something. How delightful.

Raini waved a hand at the table. “Morning, people. Your drinks await you. Except for yours, Keenan. Didn’t realize you’d be gracing us with your big, bad presence.”

The newcomers said their hellos as they claimed seats.

His eyes boring into Khloé, Keenan took the chair beside hers, making her hormones do a little cheer. “Were you hurt last night?”

Khloé frowned. “Last night?”

“During that whole clusterfuck with Enoch,” he elaborated.

She looked at her cousin. “I take it Grams told you a little about Enoch and you blabbed to Keenan.” Jolene wouldn’t have told her everything—not now that Harper no longer belonged to their lair. Demons were secretive that way.

Cradling her mug of caramel latte between her hands, Harper replied, “She mentioned it earlier over the phone when I called her. Just hearing about it was disturbing. I can’t imagine how horrible it must have been to actually be there.”

It was a memory that would stick with Khloé, that was for sure.

“Were you hurt?” Keenan repeated, his tone clipped. She’d bet the reason he was so pissed was that he’d heard about the incident second-hand instead of directly from her. He had a habit of poking his big, fat nose into her business. Which baffled her, because it wasn’t like said habit got him anywhere.

“No,” Khloé replied.

His eyes narrowing, he tilted his head. “Why don’t I believe you?”

“I don’t know. Why don’t you?”

His lips thinned. “Are you aware that you look like shit?”

“Smooth, Keenan,” mumbled Tanner.

“Well, she does,” said Keenan.

Khloé couldn’t even deny it. Worse, she felt like shit. She was so tired and drained that she could easily nap right there. Her throat felt all scratchy and sore, and her chest still ached from last night’s near-choking incident.

As she had no wish to share that with Keenan, she turned back to Harper. “I don’t know how Enoch couldn’t have found what he did wrong,” she said, using the straw to stir her smoothie, “but he’d fully justified it in his head.”

Devon blew over rim of her steaming mug. “A part of me feels bad for the guy—no parent should have to bury their own kid. But there are lines you don’t cross.”

Tanner nodded. “Reanimating the body of his daughter was bad enough. Resurrecting the others so she’d have friends to play with … that’s just fucked up, no matter what way you look at it.”

Oh, Khloé couldn’t agree more.

Keenan’s knee knocked hers beneath the table—such a small thing, but it was enough to make her pulse jump. “You need to be careful. Jolene didn’t say exactly what you did last night, only that you helped her defeat Enoch. That means you played a part in him losing his daughter all over again—that’s how he’s likely to see it. I doubt he’ll thank you for it.”

“He’s not dumb, he’ll lay low,” said Khloé.

“He doesn’t seem to be operating on all cylinders right now, so there’s no knowing what he’ll do.”

“Keenan’s right, Khloé,” Harper cut in. “And I’m annoyed that I didn’t think of it myself. The guy may confront you or Grams. Maybe even both of you. You could probably kick his ass on your worst day, but he’s a Lazarus demon—they’re practically impossible to permanently kill. Just be careful.”

“I always am,” said Khloé.

Keenan snorted. “No, you’re not.”

“Well, we can pretend I am.”

His eyes narrowed again. “Why did Jolene need your help with Enoch? You’re not one of her sentinels or a member of her Force. Why call on you?”

Khloé shrugged one shoulder, nonchalant. “You’ll have to ask her.”

“I’m asking you.”

“I know. I heard you.”

He muttered a curse. “Do you have any idea how exasperating you can be?”

“Where’d you learn that big word?”

He ground his teeth so hard she almost snickered. Oh, he was just too easy.

“I feel all warm and squishy inside when you get this way.” She lifted her cell phone from the table and aimed it at him, as if she’d snap a picture.

“Don’t you dare,” he all but barked.

She rolled her eyes. He positively despised having his picture taken. She’d asked him about it once, and he’d said, “You take photos to record memories. People take them of me because they like what they see—that’s all. After centuries of that shit, it gets fucking old.”

She’d have branded him dramatic if she hadn’t seen how many people—humans and demons alike—covertly took photos of him in passing, just as they might any incredibly hot guy. It seemed harmless enough, but Khloé had to admit that she wouldn’t whatsoever like perfect strangers snapping pictures of her.

“You’re no fun, Keenan.” She looked away, dismissing him. “I really should have stolen a donut.”

Watching as the imp closed her mouth around her straw and then sucked in her cheeks, Keenan felt his dick twitch. Jesus, the woman could make him hard without even trying.

After hearing from Harper what went down with Enoch, he’d wanted to see for himself that Khloé was fine. He also wanted to understand why Jolene would call on her for aid, but it was clear that Khloé had no intention of telling him shit.

No surprise there. Nothing could ever be that simple with Khloé Wallis.

He’d seen her fight in the Underground’s combat ring a few times, so he knew she was strong. But he’d seen nothing to suggest she was a power in her own right. The fact that she wasn’t part of Jolene’s ranks only supported that idea.

Many demons, including himself, kept some of their abilities quiet just to keep others guessing. He knew she had wings, could control most minds, was wicked fast, and possessed the standard ability to conjure hellfire. He wondered what other gifts his little imp possessed.

His demon studied her carefully, trying to sense just where she sat on the power spectrum. It wasn’t easy to gauge a person’s strength, but his demon had always been good at that. With Khloé, however, it was stumped.

It was also pissed that she hadn’t called Keenan about the Enoch matter. But then, why would she? She might be under his protection, but she didn’t accept said protection. And she’d never share lair business with outsiders unless cleared by Jolene to do so. His inner demon understood that, but it didn’t care for rationality. As far as it was concerned, she should have called them.

The entity hadn’t wanted to leave her last night. It constantly bugged him to seek Khloé out, to take what they both craved, to make her theirs. It considered the whole thing a done deal, and it wanted Keenan to get with the program.

Her bracelets jangled as she lifted her hand and curled stray strands of hair around her ear. The rest of her hair was gathered in a messy bun. Khloé kept her home and workspace freakishly tidy, but you’d never know it to look at her. When it came to her appearance, she was nowhere near as attentive, always combining ill-fitting clothes from different eras.

Her tees often featured quotes or pictures, and her skin-tight jeans were often ripped or bejeweled. Then there were the headbands, random bracelets, and dangly earrings.

Sometimes she wore dark pieces. Other days she was one big pop of color, just as she was right then. She always looked cute and quirky and, some-fucking-how, stylish. He honestly didn’t know how she did it, but he strongly suspected she didn’t work it so well on purpose.

Maybe it was a mistake to have made their little wager, considering it would be utter torture to stop at only feeding from her, but he didn’t intend to back out. If he couldn’t have her, he could at least have one taste of her; he could see her come just once.

His demon wasn’t the most patient of creatures, but it didn’t mind that it would need to wait seven days before taking what it wanted. The anticipation would only heighten the pleasure.

Keenan knew she doubted that he’d win the wager. She was wrong to doubt him. He’d meant what he told her; he wasn’t an alcoholic, and it wasn’t a struggle for him to not overindulge. He had more self-discipline than most. It was only Khloé who’d ever shot that self-discipline to shit.

A female mind touched his. You can stop glaring at my cousin any minute now, said Harper, a smile in her telepathic voice.

He cut his gaze to the sphinx. I’ll stop glaring when she starts taking the issue of her safety more seriously.

Teague will be back from his trip next week. He’ll look out for her.

Keenan fought the urge to snap his teeth. He was not a fan of Khloé’s anchor at all. Not only because Teague tried keeping her away from Keenan, but because … As anchors go, he’s fucking useless. He doesn’t try to keep her out of trouble or watch out for her.

I’ll admit he’s notalways the most attentive anchor, but he has saved her from herself a number of times. I think it’s just that, being as crazy as she is, he sees most of her behavior as normal.

“Would the two of you like to share whatever you’re telepathically talking about with the rest of the class?” Devon asked, a playful haughty note to her voice.

The sphinx pursed her lips. “No, not really.”

Devon pouted. “But I wanna know. I’m feeling left out here.”

Khloé drank the last of her smoothie. “Curiosity poisoned the cat, you know.”

Devon frowned. “I thought it killed the cat.”

“Not in my version.”

“Where did you get your version?”

“My Aunt Mildred.”

“You don’t have an Aunt Mildred.”

“You don’t remember her? Brown hair. Pointy nose. Crooked front teeth. Huge mole on her chin. Hazel eye.”

Tanner’s brow creased. “Eye? Not Eyes?”

“She lost the other eye,” Khloé told him. “Snake bite.”

“You do not have an aunt named Mildred,” Devon insisted.

“I do! Seriously, why would I lie about it?”

“No idea. But then, I have no idea why you do half the things you do.”

“And I have no idea how you could forget Mildred.”

Keenan felt his mouth twitch. Even for an imp, she was especially good at fucking with people.

Devon pushed out of her chair. “It’s too early in the day for this shit, Wallis. Let’s just get to work.”

Khloé huffed and stood. “Fine. But I can’t believe you don’t remember Aunt Mildred.”

“Oh my god, stop!”

As they all walked out of the coffeehouse, Keenan telepathically reached out to Khloé. I look forward to collecting on my wager.

Aw, you really think you’ll win it?she asked without sparing him a glance. I can’t help but feel sorry for you.

His mouth twitched. I’ll win. And then I’ll have my taste of you.

She flicked him a look full of pity, and his demon smiled. It liked that she was so over-confident—it would make the win all the sweeter for the entity. In effect, it had cornered and captured its prey. She just didn’t know it yet.