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“Ah, kitten,” he said, his voice soft. “You’re oblivious to your … value to me, aren’t you? ‘Territorial’ is a mild word for what I feel toward you, and it has nothing to do with that mark.” He released her hand and took a slow step back. “Get some rest. You’ve had a rough day. I have the feeling that tomorrow’s not going to be any easier.”
Tanner would have insisted on staying the night to guard her, but his fiercely independent hellcat would never go for that. Her protective wards were strong, and he’d be psychically alerted if she was in any danger—that would have to be enough. “Stay safe.” With that, he left.
Outside, he headed for his Audi. He clocked the two imps watching the building from the shadows; approved that Jolene had sent people to guard Devon. That didn’t stop him from making a call to a member of his Force and ordering them to stand watch through the night.
In the car, he switched on the ignition and telepathically reached out to Knox. You can assure Harper that Devon’s home, safe and sound. Or as safe as anyone can be in the shabby building where she lives.
Harper tells me she’s been trying to convince Devon to move, but the hellcat likes to be close to her parents, said Knox. The only other nearby empty apartments are in far worse condition than the one she’s living in.
Well, if Devon wanted to live near her family, she wasn’t likely to move to one of Knox’s buildings. Tanner would still take a shot at convincing her to relocate, though. Just so you know, I’ve stationed Enzo outside her complex. I trust the imps to be vigilant, but I want someone watching her who’ll report back to me.
Our Force is big enough for us to spare him. I’ll clear it with Jolene.
I also want him and Lex to guard the tattoo studio tomorrow.
I understand your need to be sure she’s safe, Tanner, and I’m not opposed to making it clear to the demon population that I’ll take an attack on Harper’s friends seriously. But be careful—your hound could get annoyed by the attention you’re paying to the hellcat.
No, it won’t, because it wants her protected. Tanner decided to hold off on informing Knox that he’d marked her. Knox would tell Harper, who’d immediately call Devon and ask her about it; then Devon wouldn’t get the rest she needed.
If you say so. Knox didn’t sound whatsoever convinced. We’ll talk more tomorrow.
Sure thing.
CHAPTER FOUR
The sound of the alarm blaring pierced Devon’s dream. Upper lip curling, she blindly reached out to the nightstand and slapped at her phone until the dreaded noise stopped. She was not what anyone would call a morning person. Everything irked her when she first woke—the sunlight seeping over the edges of the blackout blind, the sound of her own breathing, the tacky taste in her mouth, the gnawing sensation in her stomach.
The most irritating thing about every morning? Knowing she needed to get up.
Until she’d had her first caffeine-fix of the day, her friends never spoke to her. Or made eye contact with her. Or tried getting her attention. Or made any sudden movements that she might misinterpret as a challenge.
It was as the sleep-fog began to clear from her brain that snapshot-memories of the previous day sucked her under—the cabin, Maverick’s death, Tanner bringing her home, Tanner marking her.
Well, fuck.
Honestly, she wasn’t sure what pissed her off more—that she’d been snatched by an incantor, or that she now wore the pooch’s mark. Probably the latter.
Knowing she’d need to call Jolene and find out what time they were meeting with Finn, Devon lazily grabbed her cell. Her Prime had texted her an hour ago to say that she and Ciaran would arrive at Devon’s apartment at 8:45am, since the meeting with Finn was scheduled for 9am. Jolene had also added that Devon’s car had been found but was an utter wreck. Groan.
Either Maverick had purposely put it out of commission, or some kids had found and had their fun with it. In any case, it would be taken to the local mechanic shop this morning, where some of her lair worked.
With yet another snarl, she returned the phone to the nightstand. It was a good ten minutes before she summoned the energy to get out of bed. Eyes half-closed, feet dragging, Devon made her way into the bathroom and did her business.
A short while later—washed, dressed, and wearing a subtle layer of makeup—she shuffled to the kitchen. Two cups of coffee and a Danish pastry later, she was no longer feeling like a zombie. She’d just finished rinsing her mug when Ciaran and Jolene appeared in the middle of her kitchen.
Devon almost jumped. “You need to give a girl some warning before you go teleporting into her home.”
