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Tanner’s brows lowered. “I don’t recall ever hearing that he and Alethea spent time together.”
“Unless we speak to Dion, we won’t know anything for sure,” said Knox. “Unfortunately, that’s not something we can do straight away, since we can’t simply call him to arrange a visit to his island.”
“Ah, yes, he’s a technophobe,” Harper remembered. “Doesn’t use phones or computers.”
Knox nodded. “I still have his address somewhere. I’ll write a letter to him, saying I wish to speak with him. It shouldn’t take long for him to respond. Still, I don’t like that we’ll have to wait.” He wanted answers yesterday.
Larkin crossed one leg over the other. “I still think we should look more closely at Thatcher. He helped us get to Harper after she was kidnapped by Nora, sure, but what better way to shift suspicion from himself than that? And he and Alethea did look a little cozy in the Ice Bar.”
“But surely Thatcher wouldn’t have been seen in public with someone he knew he might have to later kill if she didn’t agree to go along with his plans,” said Levi. “Plus, Jonas said Alethea was being secretive about her new boyfriend. Parading around with Thatcher isn’t discreet. Not that I’m ruling him out as a suspect, I’m just saying it doesn’t add up.”
Knox felt his face harden. “As far as I’m concerned, while my mate and child are at risk, everyone’s a suspect.” He looked at Larkin. “Jonas says he had extreme difficulty tracking Alethea’s movements after she disappeared, but maybe you’ll have better luck with that. She’s the key to uncovering the identity of the Horseman—he made a grave error in killing her so publicly. He more or less shouted, ‘Just follow her past footsteps and you’ll find me.’”
“He must be very sure those footsteps were covered,” mused Levi.
Knox glanced at the reaper. “Let’s hope the fucker made a mistake.”
Harper sort of zoned out then. Conversation continued around her, but she couldn’t take it in. Her thoughts were centered on the simple fact that an incorporeal demon wanted to possess her son. Possess. Her. Son. What mother would ever take that on the chin and get the fuck on with her day?
Like Knox, she had always suspected that someone would one day come for Asher. She’d planned to capture said someone and make them pay in a way that discouraged anyone else from even daring to try such a thing. But how could you capture something that had no body? How could you hunt something that had no scent? How could you attack something you could only see if it wanted you to see it?
The simple answer to each question was … you couldn’t. Not without a fuck of a lot of power and a shitload of luck.
Harper wasn’t weak. Not by any means. And with her ability to call on the flames of hell, she could certainly destroy the incorporeal … if it revealed itself. If it wasn’t possessing another at the time. If it didn’t learn from the mistakes it made with her at Jolene’s house. She’d never been up against anything like it before, and it was easy to fear that she’d fail when the consequence of that failure would be the end of her son’s life.
Her self-doubt weighed on her chest and left a sour taste on her tongue. She was Asher’s mother; she was supposed to protect him. Right then, she didn’t feel fully equipped to do it, and that absolutely terrified her.
Leaving the others to continue the meeting, Harper excused herself and headed upstairs. She needed to be alone. Needed privacy. Needed time to assimilate everything and calm the fuck down.
On her way to her bedroom, she paused at the ajar door of the nursery. All was quiet inside. Still, she poked her head through the door. Asher was sprawled on his back in his crib, flat out, dark silky hair all mussed. Her heart squeezed.
Resisting the urge to go dab a kiss on his cheek for fear that she’d wake him, Harper headed into the lavish master bedroom, shed her clothes, and hopped into the walk-in shower of the opulent private bathroom.
She stood under the square rain shower head, arms crossed over her chest, head down, eyes closed as the hot spray pounded on her skin. Her muscles felt sore and cramped from the tension that had arrested her on hearing Knox’s news.
An incorporeal demon. A goddamn, motherfucking incorporeal demon.
Dammit, why hadn’t she just called on the flames of hell that day in Jolene’s house? If she had, th
e incorporeal would be mere ashes right now. Then again, so would a good portion of Jolene’s dining room, and there would be no hiding exactly how it had burned, since the flames of hell left a red residue behind.
People already worried that Knox could call on them. If they realized that she could also do so, they’d no doubt panic that she and Knox were so strong as a couple that they were a threat that needed eradicating. The other Primes were already nervous that Knox was mated—they didn’t need an additional reason to worry.
Worse, people might even think that Knox had the ability to pass on such a power. She doubted there was a demon alive who wouldn’t be greedy for such an ability. Some could then target him in the hope that he could give it to them. So, yeah, calling on the flames at Jolene’s house would have brought on another set of problems.
That wasn’t why Harper hadn’t immediately called on them, though. She kept the ability in her “worst-case scenario” box, still spooked by how her demon had once gotten immensely drunk on the power. The fact was it wasn’t an ability Harper should possess. She wasn’t built to handle it. She could control it well enough, but not while angry. She wasn’t like Knox, wasn’t good at containing her emotions or keeping her composure. If she’d called on the flames in Jolene’s dining room, Harper’s out-of-control rage would have fed the flames and made them just as out of control.
In that sense, it was a good thing that Harper hadn’t instinctively called on them. But the protective mother in her didn’t care for logic—it wanted the incorporeal dead. And the dark entity within Harper craved that very same thing.
Knowing that stewing on the whole matter wouldn’t help clear her head or calm her nerves, she concentrated on lathering the shampoo in her hair. Let herself enjoy the dig of her fingertips into her scalp and the vanilla scent of her soap surrounding her. Every time her thoughts strayed back to the incorporeal, she slammed a mental door on the subject. The last thing she wanted if Asher woke was for him to touch her mind and feel nothing but fury.
When she was finally done in the shower, she patted herself dry and then wrapped the lush towel around herself. Leaving the steamy bathroom, she grabbed her brush from the dresser on her way into the walk-in closet. Harper then combed the tangles out of her wet hair as she flicked through the underwear drawer.
She felt Knox enter the closet more than she heard him. He didn’t speak. Just came up behind her and brushed her hair over her shoulder, baring her nape. Feeling his hot breath on her skin made a little shiver race down her spine. And the bastard no doubt knew exactly what he was doing to her.
Her eyes drifted shut as he nibbled and licked at her nape. Even through his clothes, she could feel his body heat blanketing her back and beating at her.
“Drop the towel,” he whispered against her skin.
