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“No, I’m not,” she clipped, scrambling to stand up. She spun, scanning the foyer, her heart pounding. Surely the incorporeal hadn’t managed to get inside. Not with the amount of preternatural security measures in place. “Something just fucking grabbed me.”
“Grabbed you?” echoed Tanner, muscles bunching.
At that moment, Keenan came striding toward them with Asher still in his arms. “What’s the hold up?” He frowned at Harper. “Why are you rubbing your butt?”
“Get Asher in the living room, someone just—”
“What’s that?” asked Tanner.
Her head whipped to face him. “What? What do you see?” He was looking at her wrist.
Gently, Tanner lifted her hand to study it. “What is that?”
“What’s what?” Because she didn’t see anything. But then he angled her hand a certain way so that the sunlight shone right on it … and she frowned. “What is that?” It looked like partly translucent string was wrapped around her wrist. She touched it, half-expecting not to feel anything. But it was like she’d skimmed her fingertip over cold metal. “No, seriously, what is that?”
Tanner released her and stepped back. “Try leaving.”
Moving more slowly this time, she stepped outside. No problem. She kept walking, descending the stone steps nice and slow. One. Two. Three. Four—
And then she was pulled backwards again. No, not pulled, she realized. It was more like she was straining against a leash. Stomping back into the foyer, she shut the front door. “Is this supposed to be a cuff or something?” If Knox had done this to keep her home, she was so going to kill him.
Rubbing his jaw, Tanner replied, “I think so.”
Keenan stepped forward to get a good look at her wrist. “The question is … what are you cuffed to?”
“Or who are you cuffed to?” Tanner made a speculative noise and then turned to Asher, who was chewing on his thumb while studying the pretty, freshly cut flowers on the circular table. “Let’s take a look at those wrists, little man.”
Harper snickered. “You can’t think he did it, Tanner, he’s just a—oh, my God.” She felt the blood drain from her face. On his little wrist was a thin cuff identical to hers. Holding his chubby hand, she touched the cuff. Cold metal. “Asher,” she drawled, pointing at her own cuff. “Take it off.” He didn’t; he tried reaching for her hair instead. She gave him her stern, “I mean business” look, and he mimicked her perfectly.
Tanner pointed at the other side of the foyer. “Harper, stand over there. I want to walk between you and Asher and see if anything tangible is actually linking the cuffs.”
She did as he asked and then watched as the sentinel easily strode between them.
He shook his head. “Nothing.”
Crossing to him, she pursed her lips. “So the cuffs don’t have any links?”
“No,” he replied. “I’d say the only thing linking them is power.”
“Meaning they’re psychic constructs. It’s more that he’s linked our psyches than that he’s linked our bodies.” Harper shook her head at Asher, but he was too busy twisting Keenan’s nose to even notice her look of reprimand.
“I don’t think he meant to shackle you to him,” said Keenan, eyes dancing with humor. “I think he just doesn’t want you to leave him. Couple that with all the power that lives in h
im and, well, this was the result.”
Thrusting her hand into her hair, Harper blew out a breath. Knox, our son has cuffed me to him. And no, I’m not kidding.
Knox’s psychic taste poured into her as his mind touched hers. Cuffed how?
I don’t know. But we’re both wearing thin, barely visible cuffs that feel like metal. There’s nothing physical linking the cuffs, but I can’t move far from Asher without being yanked back toward him.
She had the impression of pure male amusement and even a hint of pride. Apparently, he doesn’t want to be left behind.
Her lips thinned. How can you find this amusing?
If our positions were reversed, you’d be laughing your pretty little ass off.
Yeah, okay, she would. How do I get them off?
