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“And you . . . like that?”
“What’s not to like?”
Okay, she didn’t understand him. Never would. Ever. But that he so easily accepted her entity made her chest feel all warm.
“Has it always been a little bit nuts?”
She usually didn’t tell others much about her demon. But then, they asked questions because they feared and wanted to ‘fix’ it. Teague, however, seemed simply intrigued. He gave not one tiny fuck that her entity clearly had issues.
“Not from the very outset,” she replied. “But it was . . . different, even when I was an infant. Colder and more entitled than most entities. Also much more distant, so it formed attachments to very few people.”
It couldn’t love—the emotion simply wasn’t on its emotional spectrum. The same went for all demonic entities. But just because they couldn’t love others didn’t mean they wouldn’t grow attached to them. In such cases, they never let that person go. Typically, anyway. Her demon was an exception to that rule, but Larkin suspected it was because the entity had never fully connected with anyone.
“The darker aspects of its personality didn’t creep in until I was six, though.” But Larkin didn’t want to go into the whys of that, so she swiftly changed the subject. “I don’t get it, why aren’t you mad about the brand? It’s one thing for an entity to mark someone they’re sleeping with. This is something altogether different. The brand might not be permanent, but that doesn’t change that my entity had absolutely no right to mark you.”
His brows dipped. “It had good reason for doing so,” he insisted in a somewhat defensive tone, seeming a little offended on her demon’s behalf. Apparently they’d bonded or some shit.
“I’m not seeing how that could truly be the case.”
“It’s of the opinion that Holt has a thing for you. It wants to make him jealous.” He returned to where he’d been sitting on the end of her bed. “It feels that this’ll do the trick.”
A thing for her? No. Nu-uh. “Why attempt to make him jealous?”
“So he’ll do something stupid that will allow your demon to kill him without it resulting in repercussions for your lair.”
A heavy breath slipped out of her. Larkin rubbed a hand down her face. “Maybe I should have expected my demon to try to provoke him in some way, but I never thought it would involve you.” Pausing, she bit her lip. “I’m sorry.”
Teague frowned. “Why?” He seemed genuinely confused.
“As we’ve already established, my demon is using you to provoke Holt. That isn’t fair to you. You’re not a pawn in a game.”
He gave a careless shrug. “I don’t mind.”
Larkin cocked her head. “You really don’t, do you?”
“No.”
“Your demon must mind, surely.”
“Nah. It’s just now more determined than ever to convince me to bite you.”
She narrowed her eyes. “We’ve covered that that won’t be happening.”
He only smiled. As did her demon. God, they were so weird.
Larkin palmed the back of her head. “No wonder it was urging me to get blitzed tonight. It wanted me to pass out so it could have some time unmonitored to do what it pleased. It no doubt suspected that you’d collect me from the bar as part of our act, since the guys always pick up their mates. I really can’t believe it went this far to anger Holt.”
“Your demon positively loathes him.” Teague braced his hands on the mattress behind him. “Tell me about the guy. You were vague when you first mentioned him. I didn’t intend to push you for more info, because I respect that this isn’t my business and I have no right to your secrets. But your entity has pulled me into this matter. And if Holt truly has a thing for you, he will come at me—even if only to verbally warn me off. Tell me what I’m dealing with.”
Larkin sighed. He was right. Her demon had unjustly dragged him into this, and it would be unfair of her to not arm him with more information.
Puffing out a breath so hard she was surprised her lips didn’t rattle, she took slow, hesitant steps toward the bed and then sat on the edge beside Teague. “He’s a cambion. One as powerful and dangerous as he is calculating and selfish. He’s also a complete stranger to the concept of loyalty. More, he’s the Prime of a Canadian lair.” She stretched out her legs and dug her heels into the carpet. “He was a sentinel when I first met him.”
“When was that?” asked Teague, a soft note she rarely heard in his voice.
“Over thirty years ago. He came to Vegas for a weekend trip with some demons from his lair.”
“How did you meet him and come to realize he was your anchor?”
“I was at a club in the Underground with some members of my lair’s Force—it was a sort of work night out. He kept trying to catch my eye. I kept ignoring him, not in the mood to be hit on. He touched my mind and telepathically offered to buy me a drink. And then our psyches just lunged for each other. I knew at that moment we were psi-mates.”
