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Every last hellhorse dug deep for strength and sprinted on ahead, their hooves pounding the track, their metallic black coats shimmering with sweat. Each edged forward little by little, and some overtook others. But none caught up to Teague’s stallion.
It darted across the finish line first.
Only then did Larkin’s gut unknot.
Keenan slapped her back a little too hard, amusement gleaming in his eyes. “You weren’t nervous for the demon, were you?”
Larkin twisted his ear.
He hissed. “Ow, that hurt.”
Khloë snickered. “Don’t be a baby.”
He huffed at the imp. “You’re supposed to be sympathetic.”
“Sympathetic,” Khloë echoed, tasting the word. She closed her eyes. “I know what it means, I do, I just can’t remember right now.”
He cast her a droll look. “I need a beer.” With that, he walked off.
Smiling, Khloë turned to Larkin. “So . . . are you still going through with your plan to tell Teague tonight that you guys are in a relationship?”
Larkin exhaled heavily. “Yup.” Honestly, she’d thought he’d have worked it out for himself by now. She was starting to wonder if he was choosing the bliss of ignorance.
Khloë knocked back the last of her champagne. “Why did you delay it this long?”
“I just wanted to give him time to get used to having me around so much. It’ll make it easier for him to adjust to the fact that I’m not going anywhere.” Her demon wouldn’t allow it even if Larkin was prepared to walk away.
The entity was so firmly attached to him that, little by little, it had gravitated all its belongings to Teague’s wagon. He’d come across some of it, but not all. The demon hadn’t left them in plain sight. The stuff was stashed here and there.
He never commented. Just curiously studied the object and then put it back.
“Personally, I think he’ll react well to realizing he’s been firmly snagged by you,” said Khloë.
Larkin cocked her head. “You do?”
Nodding, the imp placed her empty glass on a nearby high table. “The way he looks at you . . . it’s hard to describe. There’s an electric possessiveness there that’s mingled with pride and something seriously warm. He’s utterly gone for you. Not sure if he’s acknowledged it to himself yet, but he’s got it bad. So has his demon.”
“Hopefully you’re right, because if Teague tries to chase me off, my demon will hurt him.” She wasn’t kidding.
“I’ll hurt him. You’re good for Teague; he’d be a fool to turn you away. I will tumble all over his shit if he messes this up.”
It was only a few minutes later that he strolled into the VIP box. People hollered out their hellos and congratulations. He came straight to Larkin, his mouth curving into that grin he wore solely for her.
She felt her own lips hike up. “You won. Again. Congrats.”
Splaying his hand on her back, he pulled her close. “Thank you, baby.” He pressed a soft kiss to her mouth and then looked at Khloë. “Hey, gorgeous.”
It no longer bothered Larkin when he used that term with Khloë. The same couldn’t be said for Keenan, though. Hence why the approaching sentinel glared at him.
“Every time you do that, you insult Larkin,” Keenan stated.
Teague frowned. “Do what?”
“Call another woman gorgeous,” said Keenan, curling an arm around the imp’s shoulders.
Teague double-blinked. “How does that insult Larkin?”
“Because she’s the one you should be complimenting.”
“I do compliment her. Just this morning, I told her she could wield a paddle like a pro.”
Larkin let out a heavy breath and exchanged a look with a chuckling Piper.
Keenan’s lips pressed into a tight line. “Just stop calling my mate—” He grunted as said mate dug her elbow into his ribs.
“Let it go, Keenan,” Khloë groused.
The incubus sniffed. “I don’t want to.”
“Here,” Devon interjected, holding out her daughter, “make yourself useful and hold Anaïs instead of bothering people.”
Keenan threw up his arms and stepped back. “No. No way. I like to breathe. For some reason, she has an issue with that and wants to put an end to it.”
Devon rolled her eyes. “Would you stop being dramatic? She’s just a baby.”
“She’s an assassin in the making.” He looked at Levi. “Back me up on this.”
The reaper sighed. “You’re overreacting.”
“You hold her, then.”
“Fuck, no.”
Devon glared at both males. “You are terrible, terrible people.”
Chuckling, Teague turned to Larkin. “Ready to go?”
“Couldn’t be readier,” said Larkin.
Since she’d arrived at the Underground in her car, she drove behind his bike as he headed to his camp. Aside from Tucker and Saxon, the clan was outside.
Slade was cleaning his own bike with a rag that, like most materials he owned, appeared to be bloodstained. Leo was wiping bird shit off his wagon while glaring at a raven that was circling overhead. He appeared to be cursing at the bird—it was hard to be sure, since it was impossible to hear him over the Bob Marley tune that was filtering out of Tucker’s open window.
