Ashes Page 4
The dark entities that lived within demons couldn’t love; they simply weren’t capable of that emotion. But they could form attachments to people. It wasn’t something they did often or easily, but it was always permanent and always intense. Knox’s demon had claimed Harper as its mate. It had “collected” her and was every bit as possessive and protective of the little sphinx as Knox was.
Shiny, defiant, and unique, she’d instantly captured his demon’s interest the second they met. Knox had been just as fascinated. She was an intriguing creature. Smart. Stubborn. Complex. Elusive. There weren’t many things that Knox found unpredictable, but Harper often managed to surprise him. That was something he liked.
It sometimes amused him that someone so small had so easily upturned his life. Innately sensual with mouthwatering curves and a plush mouth that he’d never tire of biting, Harper was a package that he hadn’t been able to resist. He craved her on every level – mentally, physically, and even emotionally. She was indelible to him, as both his mate and his anchor.
Demons came in pairs; had fated psychic mates, or “anchors”, that could make them stronger and keep them stable enough to prevent them from ever turning rogue. It was impossible for demons to control the dark entity within them, but it was possible to resist the entity’s persistent attempts to completely take over if a demon linked minds with their anchor.
Knox hadn’t planned to claim his anchor, since he was powerful enough on his own. The whole thing had seemed unnecessary and complicated to him. He didn’t allow people in his life, but there was no way a person could maintain a distance between themselves and their anchor. Especially since they found it mentally uncomfortable to be separated for long periods.
Although the anchor bond was only psychic in nature as opposed to emotional or sexual, anchors still tended to be close friends and they always protected, supported, and were loyal toward each other. Knox didn’t consider himself a person who needed friends, even though a numbing loneliness had begun to plague him back then.
Still, when he’d first stroked Harper’s mind and realized what she was to him, he’d thought Mine. He hadn’t been able to walk away from her. He’d relentlessly pursued her both psychically and sexually. Only once he’d fused their psyches had he understood that she truly was the only thing that could ever keep him stable. For all his power, he could never have been enough to keep himself from turning rogue.
Just like, for all his power, he hadn’t heard her calling for him tonight.
The hunters had cut her, sawed at her wings, tried to steal them from her… and he’d been talking with Levi, completely oblivious. Knox had made her promise to call out to him if she was ever in danger. Stubborn and protective, Harper rarely did so – refusing to lure him into dangerous situations. The fact that she had reached out to him showed just how scared she’d been. It gutted him that she’d suffered so much pain and had feared that he wouldn’t come for her.
He traced the pink lines on her back, needing that proof that she was healing. A vicious sexual need pricked at him, pushing him to follow the primal urge to drive his cock deep inside her; to take her hard and reassure himself in the most basic way that she was alive. But he didn’t. She might be healing, but she was also drained. The last thing she needed was him fucking in and out of her like a man possessed.
She flinched as his finger touched a wound that was obviously still tender. He fisted his hand, infuriated with himself because, dammit, he should have fucking heard her. No, he should have gone to her with the spare set of keys rather than give her a little time to find her own. Then he could have killed the hunters before they even got the chance to touch her.
As he pulled back his arm, her hand loosely cuffed his wrist. “It’s not your fault, Knox.”
He wasn’t surprised by her comment. Of course she’d know where his thoughts had led him. She understood him better than anyone. Sometimes, that made him uncomfortable, but it also felt good to be known so well after centuries of living a mostly solitary existence. He’d had plenty of people around him, but not part of his life. “I told you that you’d be safe there.”
“Not even you could have guaranteed that.”
He let his eyes drift over her face, hating the lines of pain there. “I should have heard you.” He kissed her, pouring a silent apology into it.
“You did hear me.”
“Not soon enough.”
“Through no fault of your own.” If Harper hadn’t gotten stronger since fusing her psyche with Knox’s, she might not have been able to contact him at all. That wasn’t something she wanted to think about. Not only because she’d have lost her wings, but because Knox would have subsequently lost all control – something that would have led to so many deaths and so much destruction.
She lightly skimmed a hand over his short, stylishly cut hair; it was as dark as his eyes and soft as silk. If her back still wasn’t throbbing with pain, his otherworldly potent sex appeal would have sent her libido into a frenzy. He was nothing like the guys from her past with his GQ-style, Armani suits, and badass predatory edge. Tall and solid and dominant, Knox had a raw sexual gravity that drew people to him. All that supreme confidence, leashed power, and animal grace totally rung her bell.
“Talk me through exactly what happened,” he said, stroking her wing. It was like touching hot silk. The feathers might be soft, but they weren’t fragile. He found the contrast as fascinating as he did the female beside him.
She grimaced. “Um… yeah, I’m not sure that’s the best idea.” He was already pissed beyond belief and she didn’t want to provoke the rage she knew was still simmering beneath the surface. Her demon was just as wary of stoking the fire.
“Harper, this is the kind of situation where not knowing is worse.” Ignoring her pleading expression, he pressed, “Tell me.”
She sighed. “Fine.” Inhaling deeply, she took in the scents of clean linen, fragrant oils, and Knox’s dark, sensual cologne. “I was minding my own business, searching for the damn keys, when the hunters just seemed to appear out of nowhere. One slammed me over the table while the other stood in front of me and pinned my hands still. I couldn’t fight them at first, because the one trapping my hands – the one who’s still alive – sent me into a dream. I kept snapping in and out of it.”
Knox frowned. “I sensed that he’s a nightmare. The breed can sometimes send people into dreamlike states, but they don’t control the content of the dreams. What happened in it?”
“I was here, in our room. There was no furniture except for a cradle. There was a baby – I don’t know if it was supposed to be a girl or a boy, I couldn’t tell. It had flames for eyes.”
“Considering a delusional demon claimed you’d have a ‘child of flames’ who would destroy us all, it’s hardly a surprise that you had a dream about it,” he pointed out. Not so long ago, a demon from their lair who was near-rogue had targeted Knox, convinced that killing him before he could breed would save the world. After several unsuccessful attempts, Laurence Crow had then kidnapped Harper and tried to give her a hysterectomy to prevent her from having Knox’s child. She’d killed the bastard instead.
They’d soon discovered that Crow’s strings had been pulled by a group of demons that called themselves The Four Horsemen – a group that wanted to overthrow the Primes and have domination of the US. They believed that Knox, being so powerful, was in their way.
Knox had also discovered that he’d already killed one of the Horsemen… or Horsewoman, really. Isla had wanted to not only have a US Monarch, but to be the Monarch. When her plan failed, she’d attacked Harper. Naturally, he’d killed the bitch.
Isla’s death hadn’t made the other Horsemen back off, though. Instead, they had tried and failed to cause a political war between the Primes, hoping they would turn on each other. It was only when Harper was bound to a table while Crow stood over her with a scalpel that another of the Horsemen waltzed in – a demon, Roan, from their lair. He was also Harper’s half-brother, and he was now as dead as Crow.