Chapter Eight

CHAPTER EIGHT

Tanner watched from the thick shadows of the parking lot as a lanky male stepped out of the veterinary clinic and locked the door behind him. The guy flicked up his collar, as if to protect his neck from the cool breeze, and then strode toward the parking lot.

Jolene’s voice flowed into Tanner’s mind. That’s Sheridan. I recognize him from his social media photos.

Yeah, Tanner had seen the same pictures—he’d looked the guy up too. Recognizing their target, his hound flexed its claws, raring to strike. Let’s move, Tanner said to Jolene. He positioned himself in front of Devon as they all headed toward the demon who was currently tossing a bag in the trunk of his car.

Jolene’s high heels click-clacked on the pavement. “Dr. Sheridan, isn’t it?”

He spared her the briefest look over his shoulder and closed his trunk. “The clinic is now closed, I’m afraid.” He turned to face them. “You need to—” His eyes widened as they focused on Jolene, and his entire body went stock-still. He gave a whole new meaning to the term “deer in the headlights.”

“Ah, I see that I don’t need to introduce myself,” said Jolene. “That’s good, and it will save us some time. We have a few questions for you, Dr. Sheridan. It’s in your best interest to answer them honestly.”

“Q-questions about what?” he stammered, skimming his frantic gaze along each of them. A cold fear flashed across his face when that gaze landed on Tanner. But it didn’t show even the smallest flash of recognition when it slid to Devon. Apparently, the guy was going to play dumb.

“Let’s start with your interest in Devon Clarke,” Jolene proposed.

“Devon Clarke?” Sheridan gave a quick shake of the head. “I’ve never heard of her.”

Jolene sighed. “There’s little point in feeding us lies. Maddox Quentin told us of his dealings with you.”

Sheridan’s head jerked back. “I’ve never spoken to Maddox Quentin. I go to his club a lot, I know who he is—most people do. But I’ve never officially met him, let alone had a conversation with him.”

“That’s not what he said.”

“Well, then, he lied.”

Jolene lifted a brow. “You didn’t hire him to compile a dossier on Devon for you?”

“No!” Sheridan denied, his voice bordering on hysterical.

“You hadn’t considered her as a potential female to breed with?”

“No! I have a mate, for God’s sake!”

“Then why did you want that intel?” asked Devon, speaking for the first time. She’d agreed in advance to let Jolene take the lead on this one, but it was hard to stay quiet. She’d come there prepared to rip the guy a brand-new ass hole unless he could prove he hadn’t been behind her kidnapping. As she stared at the male, she felt a niggle of doubt slither through her mind. He was either telling the truth or he was an exceptionally talented liar.

“That’s a question I think you should answer,” Tanner told him, taking a single step toward him.

Eyes flickering, Sheridan backed into his vehicle and licked his lips nervously. “Look, whatever Maddox Quentin told you … he was lying.”

Devon gave him a bored look. “Really?”

“Yes,” insisted Sheridan. “I’m telling you, I never tried making any deals with him.”

“Then just why would he name you?” Devon challenged.

“I don’t know! I do know I didn’t hire him at any point for any-fucking-thing.” Sheridan shook his head, swallowing hard. “I swear, I had nothing to do with whatever this is.”

Tanner lunged at him and fisted his shirt. “You thought you could use Devon to have Asa freed,” he accused.

Sheridan spluttered. “I don’t even know an Asa! I don’t! Swear to God, I had nothing to do with any of this! N-noth …”

Devon frowned as his voice faltered and faded away. His face slackened, and a strange glaze fell over his eyes, making them look almost dead—he was staring right at her, but she knew he wasn’t seeing her at all. He wasn’t seeing anything. But he wasn’t dead. No, she could hear his heart beating steadily in his chest. Yet, there was nobody home right then.

Tanner eased back slightly but didn’t release Sheridan. “Did one of you brain-fuck him?”

Ciaran and Devon shook their heads.

“I had thought about it.” Jolene waved a hand in front of Sheridan’s face. Nothing. He gave no response whatsoever.

Tanner gripped the guy’s jaw and studied his eyes. “It’s almost like he’s—”

Sheridan abruptly sucked in a breath, blinking rapidly as he seemed to … burst to life—it was hard to describe. His eyes then homed in on Tanner. Sharpened with intelligence. Those eyes no longer glimmered with fear. No, there was sheer arrogance there. Superiority. “Ah, Thorne’s hellhound.”

Devon’s feline hissed, unnerved by what was playing out before it. That was Sheridan’s voice, though steadier and pitched lower. But she knew it wasn’t Sheridan who was speaking right then. No, someone was speaking through him.

“I’m impressed that you made the connections that led you to Sheridan,” it told Tanner. “But you really should back away from this matter. It doesn’t concern you.”

Tanner’s grip on the shirt tightened. “It concerns me, you son of a bitch.”

“I should probably warn you that hurting this body will not hurt me.”

“Who are you?” demanded Jolene.

Arrogant eyes swung her way. “That’s not important, Miss Wallis. What’s important … is standing right there beside you.” His gaze cut to Devon, and those eyes smiled at her in a way that chilled her blood. “You and I will meet soon enough, hellcat.” Then Sheridan’s eyes rolled back into his head and his body shook violently.

“He’s seizing.” Tanner lowered the male to the floor, who quickly began foaming at the mouth. “Shit, do we—” And then the shaking stopped, and Sheridan’s lifeless eyes stared off into the distance.

Ciaran felt for his pulse, but Devon already knew the guy was dead—she’d heard his heartbeat stutter to a halt.

Breathing hard, Ciaran jumped to his feet with a curse. “Well, what the fuck was that?”

*

For the second time in the space of a few days, Devon found herself sitting at Jolene’s kitchen island with Tanner and some of her lair members. All were in a deep debate about—to put it simply—what the fuck was happening.

Her feline was pissed. It hated that there was an ongoing threat to Devon, and it absolutely loathed that it couldn’t eradicate said threat until it discovered just who and where it was.

Adam sat one side of her, massaging her back. Tanner sat at her other side, his large hand splayed on her thigh. And neither seemed to like that the other was touching her. She’d shrugged them both off several times but, like herpes, they just kept coming back.

It wasn’t Beck who’d called Adam this time, it was Devon. Because she knew that Hunter’s sister had the ability to speak through others, so if anyone could help them understand how the ability worked, it was Hunter. Tanner had been firing questions at the guy for the past twenty minutes.

Looking somewhat frazzled, Hunter rubbed at his temple. “I know I’m not doing the best job of explaining the mechanics of the ability, but it really is hard to describe. To speak through someone, you basically need to insert yourself firmly into their mind.”

“But you said your sister doesn’t leave her physical body,” said Tanner.

“She said it’s a little like putting shoes on over socks.”

“I’m assuming that, in this metaphor, the shoes represent the other person’s mind.”

“Yes, and the socks represent her body. She slips into another mind while still wearing her body, but her consciousness is divided. Shit, that’s not making things much clearer, is it?”

“How difficult is it to use the ability?” asked Devon.

“According to Lydia, it’s a lot harder than it sounds, and it’s a huge drain on the psyche,” said Hunter. “In my opinion, utilizing it is just not worth the trouble when it will leave you feeling weak and tired. It’s not even a particularly useful ability anyway. More like a parlor trick.”

Devon tilted her head. “So it’s not like possessing someone?”

“No, because you can’t fully take control. Lydia can get people to move their limbs, but she can’t make them do anything complex like drive a car—that would require her to get a deep grip on their brain. But she can use them as a conduit. Like they’re a cell phone. And they’ll have no memory of her doing it.”

Devon blinked. “No memory at all?”

“None,” replied Hunter.

“So,” began Jolene, picking up her mug of tea. “Sheridan could have been telling the truth. If he was used as a conduit, he’d have had no recollection of any deals he might have made with Maddox.”

“But why Sheridan?” asked Adam. “Why do you think he was chosen to be the conduit?”

It was Ciaran who answered. “Maybe Asa’s little friend went to the Damned wanting to talk with Maddox and then chose a random patron to speak through. Sheridan said he was a regular at the Damned.”

“I guess that makes sense,” said Adam. “But why didn’t he—whoever he is—go back to Maddox when he wanted to hire someone to kidnap Devon?”

Leaning against the countertop, Beck pursed his lips. “Maybe he worried that Maddox would do just as he said he’d do—contact Knox with the info in exchange for a favor. Especially since he initially lied that his interest in Devon was as a potential breeding partner.”

“Whatever the case,” began Devon, “we know it was Sheridan who physically requested the dossier on me. Now we need to find out who used him to do it.”

Tanner rolled back his shoulders, wanting to shake off the restlessness that had gripped him tight. His hunting instincts were badgering at him, dissatisfied because his prey hadn’t yet been tracked. And while the identity of said prey remained a mystery, Devon wasn’t safe. That infuriated his hound.

The demon didn’t much like how Adam was fussing over her either. Tanner had always thought it petty that people could be jealous of how close their partners were to their anchors. But he could admit that it did bug him to know that Adam had innate rights to Devon; bugged Tanner that she needed another male, even if it were only on a psychic level.

He looked at Hunter. “Asa’s friend killed Sheridan after using him as a conduit. How did he do that? Is it part and parcel of that ability?”

Hunter lifted his shoulders. “If extremely powerful, someone could theoretically rupture a mind as he withdrew from it.”

“Are you still planning to speak with Lockwood, Jolene?” Ciaran asked her.

“Yes,” Jolene replied. “If he did broker the deal, it’s unlikely he can tell us anything about Asa’s friend unless said friend didn’t speak to him through a conduit … but Lockwood can certainly entertain me by dying an excruciatingly painful death for making the mistake of fucking Devon over like that.” She lifted a brow at Devon. “Will tomorrow work for you? I’m thinking we should pay him a visit at his office.”

“Sounds good to me,” said Devon. “The sooner we question him, the better. What time were you thinking?”

“Early afternoon, right after lunch. There’s something satisfying about making someone so nauseated with pain that they vomit their last meal all over themselves.”

“I had hoped that Asa’s friend would back off from you and try to find another way of manipulating Finn,” Adam said to Devon, giving her shoulder a comforting squeeze. “But if the bastard said, ‘we’ll meet soon,’ he’s obviously not done trying to get his hands on you.”

Tanner’s jaw tightened. “No one’s getting their hands on her. I’ll kill anyone who tries.”

Adam gave him a considering look. “Yeah, I think you would.” He gave a short nod. “Good.” Adam pinched Devon’s lips shut when she tried to speak. “Yes, yes, you can kill them yourself—I’m not disputing that. I just like that you have backup. Sue me.”

Giving him a mock scowl, Devon knocked his hand away. “I wasn’t going to needlessly remind you that I’m capable of protecting myself.” Okay, maybe she would have prefaced her statement with that, but whatever. “I was going to say that there are far worse things than dying, and that maybe we should make an example of anyone we discover played any part in what happened rather than killing them outright. We should make them suffer; let others know what fate will await them if they make the same mistake.”

Tanner looked at her, his mouth curved. “I like that idea.”

“Yeah, I figured you would.” His kind were as bloodthirsty as hers. Devon downed the last of her herbal tea and stood. “I need to get home.”

“You’ll be happy to know that your car is back in action,” said Jolene. “I had Richie park it in the lot outside your building earlier.”

Tanner pushed to his feet. “I’ll give you a ride, kitten.”

Her stomach plummeted at the “we need to talk” look he gave her. After the weird evening she’d had, she really wasn’t in the mood for that conversation. In fact, she wanted to just relax on the sofa with a tub of chocolate chip ice-cream and watch TV. But she didn’t fight him on taking her home, not trusting he wouldn’t say something like “You didn’t mind me giving you a different kind of ride last night” right there in front of God and everybody.

Neither of them said a word during the drive to her place. The silence was far from comfortable, since the air was static with the same sexual energy that pulsed through her body. It was an honest to God relief when he pulled up outside the building.

As they climbed the stairwell, she was keenly aware of every move he made—the bunching and flexing of his muscles, the heated glances he sent her, the way his nostrils flared as he occasionally leaned in to inhale her scent. “Stop sniffing me!”

“Stop smelling like candy.”

And what could she say to that except … “You’re an idiot.”

Once they were inside her apartment, she headed straight to the kitchen. Mostly because it was the biggest room she had, which meant she could put a good deal of space between them.

Folding her arms, Devon lifted an expectant brow. Standing a few feet away, he stared at her and … God, he was just so intent on her. Snared her with a laser-focus that made her feel as if he saw no one else.

He planted his feet. “Time’s up, kitten. I need an answer.”

Swallowing hard against the impact of the rising sexual tension that was thickening the air, she tapped her arm with her nails. “A month is too long. One more night.”

“No.” He shook his head. “Another night won’t cut it.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yeah, I do.”

God, he was so damn stubborn. “Forty-eight hours,” she tossed out.

“A month.” Tanner took a single step forward. “I intend to take you every way a man can take a woman. Need more than forty-eight hours for that.”

Well damn if her feminine parts didn’t pull out the pompoms. “Forty-eight hours is the most I’ll agree to.”

“A month,” he insisted.

Devon’s fingers flexed with the temptation to grip him by the throat and shake him. “If you’re not even willing to compromise, there’s no point to this conversation.”

He slanted his head. “Why don’t you want to give me a month? What are you afraid of, kitten?”

Honestly? That she’d get used to having him around. Devon relied on herself and met her own needs. A guy like Tanner would barge his way into her life and make a place for himself there. He’d insist on doing things for her, on being there for her, and on having her trust. He’d coax and push and badger and entice, set on having exactly what he wanted exactly when he wanted it. And then he’d leave, and she’d be alone again.

“I’m not keen on letting someone into my life who fully intends to walk straight back out of it once he’s had his fill of me,” she said.

Tanner felt his jaw harden. She made it sound as if he saw her as nothing more than a faceless fuck, which she had to know was pure bullshit. The truth was he’d never get his fill of her. “We can’t give each other anything more.”

“You wouldn’t even if you could,” she accused.

Tanner ground his teeth. Like most male hellhounds, he didn’t like being in relationships. Didn’t like having people interfering in his life or treading on his independence and freedom. He also wasn’t a person who leaned on people, trusted them with his feelings, or dropped his guard to “let them in.’” And females often didn’t like being with a guy who put his job before them. But … “I’d have given it my best shot.” Because it was her.

She sucked in a breath but said nothing.

Closing the distance between them, he idly played with one of her curls. “I’m calmer when I’m with you, you know. Like all the shit in my head just stops for a while. My role as sentinel takes up so much of my day that I find it hard to switch off from it. But you … I don’t know how you do it, but you make it all fall away. No one else has ever done that for me.”

Sighing, she lowered her arms. “Tanner—”

“If you think I wouldn’t want more of that in my life, you’re wrong. But our demons would never go for it. I can’t give you what’s not in my power to give.”

Looking a little off-balance, she licked her lips. “I know, I get it. I’m not turning you down out of spite. But the fact is all you want is impersonal, uncomplicated sex—that’s something you don’t need me for. My pussy isn’t magic or anything. There are billions of others out there.”

He breezed his fingers over her folds, feeling the heat of her pussy even through the denim of her jeans, and she almost jumped. “I want this one,” he said. “It’s snug and warm and fits my cock just right, almost as if it was made to take me.”

“I don’t want to be someone’s plaything.”

“You could never be just a plaything to me, kitten … although I do like to play with you.” Tanner grazed her lower lip with his teeth and gave it a sharp nip, breathing in her soft gasp, needing more. “Give me your mouth, baby.” He could have taken it, ravished it, but he needed that surrender from her; his demon needed it. She didn’t give it to them.

He hadn’t exactly expected her to fall in line with what he wanted—things could never be that simple with Devon. And, honestly, he probably wouldn’t find her half so interesting if they were. But he also hadn’t expected her to believe the whole thing would be meaningless to him; that he’d think of her as nothing more than a sex toy. It wouldn’t be like that at all.

“You’re putting a dark spin on this because then you’ll find it easier to turn me away,” he said. “What we’d have would just be sex, sure, but there’d be nothing impersonal about it.”

Devon stared at him. Was he being serious? “Taking someone to bed with no real thought other than to fuck her until you no longer want her is impersonal. A whole month of being used that way? I’m not up for that.” Engaging in a fun, harmless fling and letting it play out until it lost its charm … well, that would be one thing. He was suggesting something else. “Besides, my demon would never give you a month of its time. Not when it’s on the hunt for a—” His large hand snapped around her throat so fast that she didn’t even see it coming.

“Don’t say it,” he warned through his teeth. “Don’t.”

Her demon snarled at him, but it didn’t push to surface. Likewise, Devon didn’t fight him, sure to her bones that he’d never use his strength against her. “I thought you said I calm you.”

Seconds of tense silence ticked by, and then his mouth canted up. “You just did,” he said, sliding his hand around to cup the side of her neck.

She sighed. “I don’t want to argue with you, Tanner, okay? I say we just leave this at a one-night stand and carry on as we were. There are plenty of women out there who’ll give you what you want.”

“I told you, this”—he glided his fingers over her folds again—“is the only pussy I want. You’re not keeping it from me. You’re gonna give it back to me, Devon. Maybe not right this second, but you will. Soon. I’m getting my month with you. In the meantime, nobody else gets anywhere near this pussy. They don’t touch it. They don’t taste it. They don’t fuck it. Understood?”

She gaped at him. “I’ve got to give it to you, Tanner, you’ve got brass-fucking-balls.”

“Not a single soul gets near it. Tell me you hear me.”

“Oh, I hear you. I just can’t imagine why you think I’ll bow down to your wishes.”

Tanner pitched his voice low as he said, “You don’t want to call my bluff on this, Devon. If someone else touches you, they’ll pay for it in blood. That’s not a threat, it’s a promise. If you’re thinking I don’t mean that, you’re wrong. You don’t know the things I’ve done. You don’t know the things I’m capable of.”

“Is this where I quiver in terror?”

“No, it’s where you heed me for once, because we’re far from done.” He kissed her. Took her mouth like it belonged to him. Licked and bit until the tension began to leach out of her spine. Yeah, she got his message loud and clear.

Tanner pulled back and released her, satisfied by the flush on her cheeks and the need spicing her scent, despite that she was glaring at him. “Remember what I said.”

As he turned to leave, she prompted, “Or … ?”

He glanced at her over his shoulder. “Or you’ll learn just how far I’ll go not to share you. Don’t test me on this, kitten. I’ve killed enough people in the many, many years I’ve walked this Earth. But then, what’s one more to add to the tally?”