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“What I know, dear father, is that you’re full of shit.”
Affronted, he bristled. “This is your lair. If I steal from them, I steal from you. Do you honestly think I’d ever do that?”
“Well, you’ve done it before, so don’t give me that wounded look. I can’t count the number of times my stuff mysteriously disappeared when I was a kid. Bikes, video games, DVDs, stereos.”
“You’d outgrown them.”
“How does one outgrow a TV?”
Lachlan shrugged. “Don’t ask me. I don’t question these things. Anyway, I only did that to keep your skills sharp. It’s a standard Campbell exercise. And I always replaced what I took with something better.”
Larkin frowned. “Keep what skills sharp?”
“Booby-trapping, of course,” he replied. “If you’re going to protect your things from being taken, you need to lay clever traps. My Raini is excellent at it.”
Larkin suspected that by ‘things’, he meant ‘ill-gotten goods’, since imps often kept them stored in warehouses and would lay all kinds of traps. “I guess there’s no one more paranoid that they’ll get robbed than an actual thief.”
“You got that right,” muttered Raini.
A short time later, Larkin and Teague slowly walked around the hall, eating and talking with whatever cluster of people they came across. Well, he talked more than she did, being that he was a social butterfly.
She very soon learned that, though descendants might by nature be wary of other demonic breeds, they were clearly big fans of Teague. They smiled at him, pulled him into conversation, talked about his races, and even asked for damn selfies.
A few women tried discreetly ogling him, but Larkin didn’t fail to notice. She knew those bitches would be all over him if it wasn’t for the brand on his neck. And, unfair to him though it might be, she was at that moment terribly glad that her entity had marked him.
Her demon smirked at that, though said smirk faded as one particular female leaned a little too close to Teague.
Worse, the brunette touched his arm, saying, “I don’t know if you remember me; we met once years ago. Anyway, I was hoping—”
“If you touch him again I’ll stab you in the fucking eye,” Larkin told her, her voice as calm as it was flat.
The descendant’s gaze danced from her to Teague. “Oh, you two are . . . ?”
“Yeah,” Larkin replied, considering throwing her empty plate at the woman.
The brunette stepped away with a respectful nod. “Got it. Backing off right now.”
Wanting to get away from this particular group, Larkin crossed to the nearby trash can and binned her plate.
Following her, Teague did the same, a grin toying with the edges of his mouth. His mind brushed against hers. You’re hot when you get all possessive.
I’m not possessive of you. It just would have looked strange if I hadn’t reacted that way. Ha, what a load of ole shit.
His lips tipped up. He telepathed her an image. No, not a mere image. It was a memory of her sitting naked on the edge of her bed, staring at an equally naked Teague with pure feminine possession in her gaze.
Feeling her face heat, she lifted a brow. What’s your point?
His smile widened. If it makes you feel any better, you’re not the only one feeling possessive.
Oh, her demon liked that. Annoyingly enough, so did Larkin. Which made her growl.
Another snapshot of a memory appeared in her mind. One of Larkin on her hands and knees, his cock—all slick and shiny—half-buried inside her.
No. No, they were not doing this. They were not going to torment each other this way like they had at Jolene’s house. Because Larkin feared she’d be a sexual mess at the end of it.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Teague bit back a smile as his harpy’s face went bright red. Emotions whirled in her dilated pupils—need, aggravation, impatience, and unease.
“No, I’m not playing this game with you,” she declared.
Oh, but she would. She just needed a little push first. “All right,” he easily agreed. But then he telepathed her another snapshot—this time of her on her knees and elbows, one side of her sex-drunk face pressed to the mattress. It was a memory that made his cock twitch.
She snarled. “You’re such an asshole.”
Chuckling, he leaned into her, looking her dead in the eye. “You can huff and bitch and growl at me all you want, pretty harpy—I happen to enjoy it.” So did his demon. “But you’re not fooling me. I know you like me.”
She exhaled heavily. “I actually do. And I can’t explain it. With logic, I mean.”
His beast let out a low nicker, pleased. “Brave girl. I wasn’t sure you’d admit you’re falling for me.”
“I didn’t say I was falling—”
“You don’t need to, it’s written all over your face.” He curved an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close so that her body was perfectly aligned with his. “Don’t worry. I’m here for you. We’ll get through this together. LarTea all the way.”
