When they pulled up outside Jolene’s house a short while later, “I Don’t Fuck With You” by Big Sean filtered out of the open windows. The front of the house was virtually covered in balloons and paper lanterns. Yard cards were strewn across the lawn—some were clocks, some were tea pots, others were playing cards. All of them surrounded a huge cardboard cutout of the Mad Hatter.

As Harper carried Asher up the path and to the porch, he pointed at the decorations, oohing and awing. She rang the doorbell, rubbing her cheek against his plump, petal-soft one. His hands gently slapped her cheeks, squishing her face.

“Ow,” she mumbled. He just giggled.

Just then, the door swung open. Jolene Wallis didn’t look like a grandmother. Not with her chic blouse, sleek skirt, high heels, perfectly coiled hair, and veneer of sheer elegance. She also didn’t look bat-shit crazy, but she totally was.

“Finally, you’re here.” Jolene stepped back and gestured for them to enter. “Harper, I’ve missed you.” She gave her a one-armed hug. “And where’s my little guy?” Jolene plucked Asher out of her arms. “Come to Grams. I love this little outfit you’re rocking.”

“You should, since you bought it,” said Harper. Well, Jolene bought the jeans and checked shirt. The boots came from Raini, Harper’s friend and business partner.

Jolene kissed his cheek. “Come see what’s in the backyard.”

Harper and the sentinels followed her down the hallway. Passing the living room, Harper peeked inside. Male imps were crowded on the couches, chairs, and floor, drinking beer and eating chips while watching a basketball game on TV. She was pretty sure the one curled around the beer keg, clinging to the funnel, had passed out. Typical.

She heard laughter, squealing, and the whir of an air compressor before she even stepped into the backyard, so the bouncy castle came as no surprise.

People waved and shouted out welcomes. Some sat on lawn furniture and floor pillows while others stood around the long patio table, filling paper plates with snack foods. A bunch of female relatives swarmed Jolene to fuss over Asher, who giggled at the kids that were jumping in the bouncy castle like demented kangaroos.

Frilly three-tiered cake stands sat on kid-sized tables among plastic teacups, saucers, and spoons. There were dozens upon dozens of cupcakes—all were covered in different colored swirly frosting topped with either edible sprinkles, pearls, glitter, flowers, or chocolate chips. Harper would nab a few when she got a chance.

Her aunt, Martina, left the outdoor bar and approached with a tray of Jell-O shots. “Drink, anyone? We also have iced tea, lemonade, mojitos, margaritas, and beer.”

Keenan’s brow furrowed. “This is a kids’ tea party, right?”

“Uh-huh.” Martina downed a shot like a pro. “No Knox?”

“He’s meeting me here later,” Harper told her. Hearing the snap of flip-flops, she looked to see Raini approaching. “Hey, how are you?”

“Good, thanks,” replied the succubus, flicking her white-blonde, pink-streaked hair over her shoulder. “Ooh, I’ll have one of those.” Raini grabbed a neon-blue shot and chugged it down. Even in her casual clothing, she exuded sex with her wicked curves, flawless skin, and sharp amber eyes. “Where’s my honorary nephew?”

“With Grams.” Harper frowned when she saw Jolene coming toward them, empty handed. “Or, at least, I thought he was. Where’s Asher, Grams?”

“On the bouncy castle. Khloë has him,” Jolene replied.

Keenan’s frown deepened. “Khloë’s in there?” He sighed, adding dryly, “Well of course she is. Where else would she be?”

Yeah, Harper’s cousin wasn’t exactly the most mature person in the world, so it often surprised people that she was incredibly well-organized. It was that very quality that made Harper and Raini hire her as the receptionist at their tattoo studio in the Underground—a subterranean demonic paradise owned by Knox.

Chuckling, Harper watched as Khloë gently bounced Asher, who tried stomping his little feet on the inflatable castle.

Tanner’s own chuckle cut off as he looked over Harper’s shoulder and grinned, golden eyes lighting up. “Here kitty, kitty.”

Devon, an apprentice at their studio, glared at the hellhound. “Eat shit, pooch.”

Tanner put a hand to his chest. “Is that any way to speak to someone who bought you a present?”

Devon snarled. “If it’s more cat litter, I’m going to punch you right in the muzzle.” The hellcat turned to Harper. “Where’s my gorgeous little dude?”

Harper snickered. “Well, hello to you, too. I’m great, thanks.”

Devon rolled her eyes. “Look who I brought with me.”

Harper felt her brows rise at the sight of the lean, tattooed male heading their way. “Drew. I had no idea you were in Vegas.” It shouldn’t have been awkward. She’d known him since they were kids, he was Devon’s older brother, and Harper hadn’t seen him in three years. Maybe if their last meeting hadn’t ended in a drunken make-out session, she wouldn’t have found herself fighting a blush.

Like his sister, he had cat-green eyes and dark ultraviolet hair. Whereas Devon’s hair fell in ringlets down her back, his was short and tousled. He was indeed incredibly hot and had a powerful magnetic energy about him. Like most females of Jolene’s lair, Harper once had a mad crush on Drew—he’d broken many hearts when he moved to Cuba six years ago, only paying their lair the occasional visit.

If there was one person she might have broken her no-dating-demons rule for back before Knox came into her life, it was Drew. But he’d shown no interest in her. As an adrenalin junkie who lived for finding the next high, he focused all his energy into his own life. Their make-out session had been nothing more than a farewell kiss that went too far. He’d returned to Cuba the next day, and she hadn’t heard from him since.

“Only got here last night.” Grinning, he pulled her into a hug. “It’s good to see you.”

As a menacing growl rumbled out of Tanner, Harper stepped back to see that both sentinels were glaring at Drew. She forced a smile. “Guys, this is Devon’s brother, Drew.” But the glaring continued. Not that it seemed to bother Drew. But then, he lived for the thrill of danger and wasn’t easily intimidated.

Having gratefully accepted a beer from Jolene, Drew gestured at Harper with his bottle. “I heard you’re mated,” he said, tone strangely flat. “That was … a surprise. And then I heard you’re a mom, too. That was even more surprising.”

“That’s my little guy right there with Khloë.”

Drew’s mouth curled. “He’s cute. Like his mom.” Ignoring Tanner’s growl, Drew asked, “What’s it like to be a Prime? You always said you didn’t want to be one.”

That was true. It had never been her dream to rule a lair, but she’d become a co-Prime on mating with Knox. Running a lair that spanned most of Nevada and much of California was no easy thing, but … “It’s not as bad as I’d expected it would be, since I have Knox to share the burden.”

“I’ll bet the Primes are mortified that he claimed a Wallis.”

“They’ve gone from ‘mortified’ to ‘disapproving’. They’ve accepted I’m a permanent fixture, though. It’s surprising what a difference it made that I’ve taken Knox’s surname.”

Drew’s brows lifted and he swallowed. “You’ve taken his surname?”

“And she’s wearing his rings,” Keenan interrupted, still glaring at Drew. “One of which is a black diamond,” he added meaningfully. As it was a sign of the ultimate commitment, demons only gave a black diamond to the person they intended to take permanently as their mate.

Drew gave her a wan smile. “Congratulations. But I gotta wonder what happened to your ‘no-dating-demons’ rule.”

Harper shrugged. “I guess I broke it.” A hard weight slammed into her leg. She looked down to see her younger cousin. “Hey, Heidi-ho.” Harper stroked a hand over the little girl’s bright blonde hair. “What you up to?”