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He was right. Her entire body felt sluggish, like she’d expended a massive amount of psychic energy, only ten times worse. Already her vision was beginning to darken around the edges. “I really don’t know how much longer I can stay awake,” she slurred.
“It’s fine, we’ll—”
At his abrupt halt, Harper looked around her curiously. That was when she noticed that people were coming at them from all sides. “Too late.” Then the darkness took her.
Knox glowered at the whimpering she-demon in his grip. It had been damn fucking hard to ignore the urge to simply snap the bitch’s neck, especially when his demon was riding him to do exactly that. But that would have been a loss of control; Knox couldn’t allow the public to think Harper could take that from him, or his enemies would come at her again and again. In addition, he wanted this to be painful for Isla; wanted it known by the demon public exactly what he would do to anyone who went after Harper. Even his inner demon couldn’t deny the importance of that.
Isla struggled in his hold, sobbing from soul-deep pain, courtesy of Harper. His mate no longer had to worry about anyone viewing her as weak.
“You can’t kill me, Knox. We’re too close. We’re anchors!”
“You’re nothing to me,” he ground out, his eyes flashing demon as the entity backed him up. “Nothing. Even if you were, no one hurts my mate and lives.”
Her bottom lip trembled. “My lair will avenge me.”
“Ask me if I give a fuck.” Conjuring a lethal orb of hellfire, Knox tipped her head back and forced it into her mouth, and down her throat. It lit her body as it moved down her windpipe and into her stomach, growing and growing as it burned her from the inside out. She screamed, clawing at her peeling flesh as the hellfire ate away at it. But Knox felt no remorse, no pity.
She heaved in one final breath before slumping in his grip, dead. Knox released her blistered, melting, steaming corpse with a sneer. His inner demon thought the act was too merciful, and it was rather disappointed by the speed with which she died. But Knox had wanted the world to see just how quick and easy it would be for someone to die at his hands.
“No!” cried one of Isla’s companions; a young male demon who had obviously been enchanted by her. Both males dropped to the ground beside her.
“I’ll escort them out once the body vaporizes,” Keenan told him.
Knox, need a little help out here, called Tanner.
“Did Tanner take Harper out of the side exit?” Knox asked Keenan.
“Yes.”
Knox rushed outside and came to an immediate halt at the sight of Tanner standing amidst four dead demons. “What happened? Where’s Harper?” Dread hit him fast and hard.
A muscle in Tanner’s jaw ticked. “She was taken,” he growled.
Several emotions crashed into Knox. Fury. Panic. Helplessness. A need to hurt. A need to make someone pay. His demon roared inside his head, smashing its way to the surface. “By who?” it demanded in a rumble.
Tanner’s gaze was wary, but he replied, “A demon and some dark practitioners – I could smell the magick on them. The demon teleported her and the practitioners out of here while those fuckers attacked me.”
Drawing on every bit of control he possessed, Knox shoved his demon back down. Clear thinking was needed if they had any hope of getting her back. The demon wouldn’t think, wouldn’t plan. It would just destroy. Harper? Harper? No response.
Knox rubbed his fist over his heart, wondering at the ache there. He hadn’t experienced helplessness since he was a boy, hadn’t felt this level of anxiety since his parents tried to take him away from Riordan and instead ended up dead. It had mostly been a show of power on Riordan’s part; a message that he was in control. Then Knox had given him – given all of them – a real show of power. Afterwards, he’d put the reins back on his demon and his abilities. He’d become the epitome of self-control, vowing that nothing and no one would ever take that control from him again. But this situation threatened to snatch it from beneath him.
“Did they say where they were taking her?”
Tanner shook his head, his expression one of self-condemnation. “I put her on the ground behind me while I fought…”
“It’s not your fault.” The words might have sounded genuine if they hadn’t been guttural. He didn’t blame Tanner, knew the sentinel would have protected her if he could. Harper? Harper, fucking answer me! “She’s not responding, but I know she’s alive. I can still feel her mind.”
“She passed out as they surrounded us.”
The door swung open and Levi strode out. One scan of his surroundings was enough for him to conclude, “Someone took Harper.”
Tanner scrubbed a hand down his face. “Can you track her through your anchor bond?”
“No.” Knox paced, striving to stay calm. “That’s not how it works.” Flames flickered from his fingertips. The sentinels eyed him warily. He thought of Harper’s reaction to the sight…‘Pretty. Any more tricks?’ She accepted him in a way no one else ever had or ever would. He couldn’t fucking lose her; he just couldn’t.
“We’ll get her back,” Levi assured him.
“You love her,” Tanner mused.
No, he didn’t. The times Knox sensed that emotion in others, it had been soft and deep. What he felt for Harper was a dark, dangerous, clawing emotion that surpassed that.
