Harper stroked a hand over Asher’s hair, who was sitting on her lap and toying with her necklace. “Before Alethea died, she did something pretty stupid. She stole a jarred incorporeal demon from a private collector. She also set it free.”

There was a shocked silence. Then the girls all muttered curses beneath their breath.

“If she was alive, I’d kill the bitch,” spat Khloë.

“The she-demon who went after Asher, posing as you … that was the incorporeal?” asked Devon.

Harper nodded. “Which makes it an ‘it’, not a ‘she’. I don’t know if it will come here, but you need to be on alert just in case.” As they ate, she told them everything that Jonas had told Knox. She also educated them on incorporeal demons before adding, “If you see me, don’t automatically assume that it is in fact me. Ask me something that only I would know. Devon, you’re a hellcat. Your sense of smell is strong. If someone approaches you who has no scent, it could very well be the incorporeal taking on a physical form.”

Khloë absentmindedly tugged on her earlobe. “How do we know if we’re around people who’re hosting an incorporeal?”

“We don’t,” said Harper. “Not unless it wants us to know. That’s why we all need to be alert and careful.”

“Does Grams know about this yet?” asked Khloë.

Harper lifted a brow. “You didn’t hear about the old skyscraper that freakily crumbled to tiny pieces last night?”

“I heard,” replied Khloë. “I’d just hoped it wasn’t Grams.”

Asher’s mind touched Harper’s, and there was a question there. He’d clearly picked up on the tension in the air and wanted to know what was wrong. She smiled at him and gave his mind a reassuring touch as she said, “Nothing, baby boy.”

“On a lighter note, let’s talk party details,” suggested Raini. “Khloë, are you sure about this garden party/hobo fancy dress thing?”

“Yep,” replied Khloë. “And I want a fountain there. A big one. Maybe a mermaid fountain.”

“Are you planning to drink from it?” asked Keenan.

Khloë’s nose wrinkled. “Unless it’s the fountain of youth, I don’t see why I would.”

“Well, that’s good,” he said. “It’s one less thing we don’t have to worry you’ll do while smashed.”

“I didn’t say I wouldn’t do it. I just said I don’t see why I would.”

“Knox said he has a fake flower garden here in the Underground for swanky events,” said Harper. “You could use that.”

Khloë grinned. “Cool.”

“Okay, let’s cover what else you want and then we can hand the matter over to one of Knox’s event planners. They’ll take care of the rest.” It was while they were discussing the food menu—which was simple enough, since Khloë just wanted a burger van and a hot dog stand—that someone’s cell phone began to chime.

Devon sat up straight. “That’s mine.” She dug out her phone, smiled at whatever name she saw on the screen, and answered, “Hey, Drew.” She frowned. “Really? Oh. Okay. Just give me a sec.” Ending the call, Devon said, “Drew’s outside and, apparently, the pooch won’t let him in.”

“Tanner’s just being cautious,” said Harper.

“Well, unless he’s not positive that it’s Drew, there’s no reason my brother can’t come in.” Devon stalked out of the room. Voices mumbled, someone growled, and another hissed. Then the doorbell chimed, and Devon welcomed Drew inside with a cheery voice.

Moments later, he entered the room. Gaze sweeping the space, he greeted everyone. His mouth kicked up into a smile when he spotted Harper. “Hey, didn’t expect to see you here.”

Awkwardness flooded her, but Harper managed to force a smile. “Hi, Drew.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

Slipping his cell phone back into his pocket, Knox relaxed into the buttery leather seat of the Bentley as he said to Levi, “Did you find out anything about Clarke?”

On realizing that Devon’s brother coveted Harper, Knox had asked the sentinel to do some digging on the male hellcat. Levi had been so thorough that he’d had a member of their Force, Armand, teleport him to Clarke’s home earlier while Knox was in a meeting.

Levi briefly met Knox’s gaze via the rear-view mirror. “As you already know, he’s been living in Cuba for the past six years. He hasn’t been a permanent fixture there, though. It’s more like Cuba is his main base. He goes away for months at a time. Even went on a two-year trip to no-man’s land on one of those ‘unplugged vacations’ where there was no phone service. He got back from there a month ago. When he is in Cuba, he rents a little shack on the beach. Works as a scuba diving instructor. Spends a lot of his time engaging in extreme sports. He also likes to party and socialize, and he sleeps around more than he dates. He has a type. Tall, blonde, stick-thin.”

“The opposite of Harper,” mused Knox. The surprise of that made his brows lower. “Find anything of interest in Clarke’s shack?”

“The guy’s as frugal as they come. The furniture couldn’t be more basic. There are framed photos all over the house—they’re all of Clarke doing extreme sports. None were of Harper or even Devon. I found a shoebox on the top shelf of his closet. There were little mementos in there and some pictures of his lair. Harper was on a few of them, but not alone or with him. There was nothing in his home that would suggest he’s carrying a torch for her. But … ”

Knox stilled. “But, what?”

“I noticed on his photos that he has an interesting tattoo between his shoulder blades. Not her work. At least, I doubt it was her work. I can’t imagine Harper doing a tattoo like that without feeling damn awkward about it.”

“Levi, tell me.”

The sentinel sighed. “It’s a picture of a sphinx—body of a lion, woman’s head, but no wings. And there was a hellcat snuggled up to it protectively.”

Knox swore. His rage bubbled out of him and filled the car, making the air so thick and oppressive it weighed heavy on his chest. “He marked himself for her.” His demon roared, livid. By having what was essentially a symbol of Harper tattooed on his skin, Clarke had left a brand on her demon’s behalf—as if it had claimed him. As if he had some claim to Harper.

Fists clenching, Knox forced his back teeth to unlock. “I have to say, Levi, I don’t like that some guy’s practically wearing my mate on his skin.”

“Neither do I.” A muscle in Levi’s jaw ticked. “I was so pissed when I saw it, I ground the photo to dust—frame and all.”

Knox would like to smash the bastard’s fucking jaw. He drew in a breath through his nose. “I very much doubt that Harper knows about the tattoo.”

“She’d never keep something like this from you, not even to stop you from hurting him.” Levi slowed the car as they approached a red light. “There’s something I really don’t get. If he wanted her bad enough to brand himself for her, why stay away from her?”

“I don’t know.” Reining in his anger, Knox cricked his neck. “But I know someone who’s likely to have the answer.”

A little while later, they were stood on Jolene Wallis’s porch. Opening the front door, she smiled. “Knox, always a pleasure.” She stepped aside, allowing him and Levi to enter. Her brow creased. “No Harper or Asher?”

“They’re at the studio.”

“Ah. I was just about to make coffee for me and Ciaran. He’s in the living area, watching TV.” She gestured for them to follow her down the hallway, adding, “Come tell me what brings you here.”

Following her into the kitchen, Knox positioned himself next to the island. He politely turned down her offer of a drink. Likewise, leaning against the doorjamb, Levi gave a quick shake of the head to her offer.

As Jolene pottered around the kitchen, Knox simply said, “Drew Clarke.”

Jolene spared him a brief look. “What about him?”