She didn’t even realize she’d been heading toward her old studio in North Las Vegas until she found herself turning onto the street where it was situated. She pulled to a stop outside the building, which was now a hair salon. It made her remember a time when things were different. Simpler in some ways. A time when things were easy between her and the girls.

A time before Knox.

She didn’t regret meeting him. Didn’t regret accepting him as her anchor or taking him as her mate. Definitely didn’t regret having Asher. She just hadn’t envisioned herself ever being in a situation where she may have to choose between him and one of the girls.

“You think Devon’s going to partially blame you for what happened to Drew?” asked Tanner, correctly guessing where her jumbled thoughts had taken her.

Harper sighed. “I don’t know. But she’s not taking my calls.”

“Maybe she doesn’t trust herself not to say something that will fuck things up in a way that they can never be fixed.”

“According to Jolene, she thinks Knox overreacted.”

Tanner snorted. “If anything, Knox underreacted.”

“I know that.”

“So does Devon. She’s not stupid. But she is emotional. Drew’s her brother; she’s protective of him and will naturally be pissed at anyone who harms him. That’s the way it should be. Give her time.”

Knowing he was right, Harper nodded. As she took a deep, centering breath, the scent of coffee filtered through the open window and filled her lungs. The smell came from the café across the street—a café that she and the girls had frequented once upon a time. “I feel like a vanilla latte. You want anything?”

Tanner glanced at the café. “Is this a good idea? That place is run by the sister of your human ex-boyfriend, right?”

“What’s your point?”

He just sighed. “I’ll have a cappuccino.”

With a nod, she hopped out of the car and headed into the café. There was a line but she didn’t mind waiting; she liked being surrounded by the scents of coffee beans, spices, fresh desserts, and even acrid burned coffee.

Around her, people were sat at bistro tables—drinking, eating, talking, reading, working on their laptops. She could hear dishware clattering, the whirr of machines, and music playing low in the background. The line moved at a steady pace, thankfully, so—

“Harper?”

Looking to her left, she saw none other than … “Royce.” Her ex. She silently swore. It was just her luck that he’d be there. She thought about walking right out, but he’d see that as her fleeing from him. She wouldn’t give the cheating bastard the satisfaction.

He cleared his throat. “Um, how are you?”

“Fine.”

He gave her a quick head-to-toe scan and said, “You look well. Marriage to a billionaire suits you.”

At those words, the woman in front of her turned and gave Harper a cursory look, as if to check she wasn’t a celebrity or something. Harper and Knox had been featured in magazines, but it seemed that this woman hadn’t read any of them because she turned right back around.

Ignoring the bitter edge to Royce voice’s, Harper smiled. “It does suit me pretty well, doesn’t it?”

“I bumped into one of your work colleagues the other day,” he said. “They took great delight in telling me that you’re happily married. With a kid. A boy, right?”

“Right,” she said, tapping her nails on her thigh.

“Is he with you?” Royce glanced at the Audi, which was parked among a row of other cars.

Harper narrowed her eyes. “How did you know the Audi was mine?”

His eyes shot back to her and widened slightly for a brief moment. “Okay, I’ll admit, I saw you hop out of it a few minutes ago. I was debating whether to come talk to you. I almost didn’t.”

“I see.”

“What’s your little boy’s name?” asked Royce.

“You really want to talk about my son?”

Royce shrugged, nonchalant. “I’m just interested in what’s happened in your life since we parted.”

“As you know, I got married and had a kid. Why don’t you tell me what’s been happening in your life?”

“Nothing interesting. My life’s been pretty dull since you left it.” He swallowed. “Do you have time to talk?”

“No.” And, really, what was there to say anyway?

“Come on, Harper. It would be good to catch up.”

She frowned, finding it odd that he would even want to speak with her, considering she made a habit of giving him shit. “No, it really wouldn’t.”

His face hardened. “You know, they’re right in what they say. Money changes people.”

“No, but it does change how the people around you treat you. Take you, for example. I haven’t been civil with you since the moment you cheated on me. Instead of shouldering that blame, you’re blaming it on the fatness of my purse. Mature, Royce. Real mature.”

He sighed. “I just want to talk. Please.”

Quite frankly shocked that he would ever plead with her for anything, she felt her frown deepen. As she looked at him again, seeing the out-of-character kicked-puppy look on his face, her pulse quickened. And then it hit her. He’d said, “your work colleagues”. But Royce believed they’d closed the studio down, not relocated it. As such, he would have said her “old” work colleagues … if it were Royce.

Motherfucker, she was talking with the bastard incorporeal. Her realization must have shown on her face, because his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

He clasped her hand and, Jesus, it was like someone poured ice-cold water into her veins. It went rushing up her arm, into her shoulder, spreading and spreading through her body. The shock of it took her breath away. Still, she instinctively slapped his chest, sending soul-deep agony out of her prickling fingertips and blazing through him. She was fast.

But she hadn’t been fast enough.

The incorporeal burst out of his body just as Royce sagged to the floor. The whirling vapor plunged right into a little girl of about eight or nine, and the impact almost knocked the kid off her feet.

Harper stumbled toward her, shaking from the cold that had invaded her body and seemed to weigh her down like lead. But, in control of the child, the incorporeal righted itself, shot a creepy smile at Harper, and thrust out its palm. A bitterly cold wind soared out of its hand, slammed into Harper, and tossed her aside.

There was a crack as her head hit the wall hard. Motherfucker. Harper slid to the tiled floor with a shaky moan just as the incorporeal swept out its arm, sending a blast of glacial air that froze the humans around them.

Harper’s mind told her to get up. Attack. Fight. But her body helplessly curled into a ball, trembling from the cold. It reminded her of the time she’d fallen into a frozen lake, only this was ten times worse. God, she was so cold her skin burned; it felt like she was being stabbed with needles.

Her demon raged, urging Harper to rise and charge at the little fucker. She wanted to get up. Tried. But she could barely breathe, let alone move. Hell, it was hard to think about anything other than the pain.

Hearing pounding, she realized that Tanner was kicking and punching the door. A door which was covered in the same ice that had crept along the walls. He couldn’t get inside, and there was no way for her to help him. She just couldn’t get up. Every muscle contracted painfully. Each breath she took chilled her throat and lungs, as if she was breathing in ice-cold air. It made her chest hurt like holy hell.

Even as the cold began to fog her brain and cloud her thoughts, she retained enough presence of mind to call out, Knox, need you here. Her telepathic voice was soft and weak, but she knew he’d hear it.

The incorporeal skipped over to her with a giggle. “You don’t look too good. Don’t worry, the pain will be gone soon … because you’ll be gone.” She giggled again.

Harper snarled, but what could she do? Even if she was prepared to hurt a kid on the off-chance that it would also hurt the incorporeal, she couldn’t have moved to do so. Numbness had crept into her fingers and toes, like her hands and feet were submerged in snow. Her demon surfaced with a hiss and said, “You will die for this.”