“What do you mean by missing?” she finally asked.

Knox gently stroked her long sleek, dark hair that was tipped with gold – it was drying fast, since Levi had turned the heaters on full-blast. “Lawrence Crow, another demon from our lair who is also her neighbor, seems to have taken her.”

“Against her will?”

“Yes,” replied Knox. His demon wanted to nuzzle her. It had lost some of its anger now that she was safe, warm, and at its side.

Harper gave a soft shake of the head. “I don’t get it. Why would someone take Carla?”

“In Crow’s state of mind, it’s not easy to say.”

“He’s the demon you told me about who was bordering on rogue, isn’t he?”

“Yes.” And that was a reason to worry, since it would mean the male’s inner demon could soon have complete and utter control of him.

“Has he gone over the edge? Is he rogue now?”

“His partner, Delia, doesn’t think he is yet, but he’s close.” Again, Knox watched Harper carefully. Again, her expression didn’t change.

Harper exhaled heavily. “Then she’s in big fucking trouble.”

His mate was right. Sharing your soul with a dark, mostly psychopathic predator was no easy thing. It was a constant struggle to prevent the entity from taking over, and some didn’t have the mental strength to be dominant over their inner demon. Those people either went insane, committed suicide, or turned rogue.

One thing could save a demon from ever breaking that way – finding and bonding with their anchor. Sometimes having a mate could keep a demon relatively stable, but although Crow was in a relationship with Delia, they hadn’t claimed each other.

Seeing that Harper was pinching her lower lip, Knox tugged it free with his thumb and asked her, “What are you thinking?”

“I don’t know what to think.” On the one hand, Harper was angry that such a thing had happened to someone who, whether she liked it or not, was in fact her mother. But that made her feel almost hypocritical, given that Harper didn’t want her around. “I can’t pretend to care about her. I don’t. But I never wished her dead.” And if Carla was in the hands of a rogue, she could very well be exactly that.

“I know.” Knox slid his hand from her hair to her nape. “Not that anyone would blame you if you had.”

“When did this happen?”

“Four hours ago. That was why Tanner disappeared from outside your studio; he’s trying to track Crow.” Tanner was one of his sentinels who acted as Harper’s bodyguard. As a hellhound, he was a very good tracker. “You don’t have to come with me to see Delia. I can have Levi take you home so you can change out of those damp clothes.”

“No, I want to hear from Delia what happened.” She rubbed at her eyes, confused and off-balance. “I don’t know what to make of it all.”

“Look at me.” Knox waited until she did before he said, “I can’t promise you that Carla will get out of this situation unharmed, but I can promise you that I will find her and Crow.”

She squeezed his hand. “I know you will.”

That trust, that instant faith in him, made Knox swallow hard. He kissed her softly. Gently. He hadn’t thought he had gentleness in him until Harper came along. She’d walked into his office, all shiny and unique and stubborn, and she’d lit his life right up – brought out plenty of emotions he hadn’t thought himself capable of feeling.

But even feeling those emotions didn’t make him “good.” He’d never be that. There was a saying: “what’s born in hell should stay in hell.” Knox was an archdemon; a dark, cruel breed that was born of the flames of hell… meaning he didn’t just call on the flames, he was the flames. Harper knew he was part of the fabric of hell, but she accepted him anyway. Loved him, even. If that wasn’t a fucking miracle, he didn’t know what was.

Harper stood at Knox’s side in the center of the freakily tidy den, looking down at the woman who was huddled in an armchair and shaking with silent sobs. Delia kept her eyes on the floor, intimidated in the face of Knox’s anger. Harper couldn’t blame her. Oh, he didn’t look or sound angry. It was rare that he ever did. But right then, the emotion pulsed around them like a live thing. He had every right to be pissed. Delia had admitted to knowing that Crow was getting worse, yet she’d done nothing.

Knox wasn’t the only one radiating anger. Carla’s mate, Bray, and their two sons, Roan and Kellen, were there too. Although Harper had no relationship with Roan, who was in his twenties and quite the momma’s boy, she occasionally met with Kellen, which was something his parents and brother didn’t know.

Unlike Roan, Kellen wasn’t close to Carla. The teenager had remarked that she wasn’t normal and believed that she found her demon hard to control. He’d also commented that though she could be kind at times, the oddest things riled her. Roan had cryptically told him that Carla was “twisted up inside” and not to blame, whatever that meant.

So far, Kellen had yet to acknowledge Harper. In fact, the hazel eyes he’d inherited from his father had looked everywhere but at her. He kept nervously shoving a hand through his dirty-blond hair, his lean build hunched over.

“You were supposed to tell me if he got worse,” Knox said to Delia.

“I know, but I was afraid you would take him away from me,” said Delia.