“Could you stop referring to her as a mammal?” asked Knox with a reluctant smile as they took their seats. The sentinels stood behind them, on guard.

Harper pursed her lips. “I suppose I could instead call her ‘that lying, skanky, soulless bitch.’”

“It has a nice ring to it,” Tanner said.

Harper thought so too.

A server appeared with a trolley of bottles and then offered Knox and Harper a choice out of a variety of mostly foreign-sounding drinks. She only recognized scotch, brandy, and wine. She left the ordering to Knox.

“I like that you do that,” said Knox when the server walked away.

Harper frowned. “What?”

“Let me choose your drink.” It was a simple thing, really, but Knox liked that she trusted him with it; trusted he’d know what she’d like.

“Oh. Good.”

“Jonas, it’s always a pleasure,” said a familiar voice that made Harper smile. Jolene. Behind her were Martina and Beck, staring at the furnishings and ornaments; most likely wondering what would be worth stealing.

“The three of you have been seated at the far end,” Alethea told her.

Jolene frowned. “I can see my granddaughter in the center. We’ll sit with her.”

“There’s no room for you there,” said Alethea.

“There’s an empty seat opposite Knox.”

“That’s Harper’s chair.”

“Really? Odd. Because she’s sitting right next to Knox.” Jolene walked to Harper, who stood and gladly accepted her one-armed hug. “Hello, sweetheart.”

Harper patted her back. “Hey, Grams.”

Pulling back, Jolene eyed the brand on Harper’s throat and sighed. “Really, Knox, you need to get that demon of yours to ease up on the possessiveness before it writes your name on her forehead.”

“Don’t give it any ideas,” Harper muttered.

Martina kissed her cheek. “Don’t worry, I won’t set any fires,” she whispered.

Not sure she believed that, Harper nodded at Jolene’s anchor. “Hey, Beck.”

He winked. “Sweetheart, how are —”

Alethea shrugged past him and stopped in front of Harper. “That’s my seat.”

Blinking, Harper said, “I’m not sure why you’d think that.”

“My name card is…” Alethea’s voice trailed off as she read the name card she was pointing at. “It was here.”

“I can’t imagine why it would be here,” said Harper. “I mean, the only she-demon that should be at his side is his mate. And that’s just not you.” Knox, I can’t promise I won’t kill her at some point. Both Harper and her demon felt it was only fair that he knew.

Knox stroked a hand down her hair. Want me to deal with this?

Nope. Harper smiled at the male fast approaching. “Jonas, I don’t suppose you know why your sister’s trying to push me into making a scene, do you?”

His face reddened. “Please give me a moment,” he said to Harper before dragging Alethea aside. Twin spots of color on her cheeks, she hissed something at her brother. Whatever Jonas whispered made Alethea blanch. Chin up, she spun on her heel and stalked away.

Jonas then returned to Harper. “I apologize on my sister’s behalf.”

“No harm done,” said Harper as she returned to her seat.

I didn’t expect you to leave the matter to Jonas, Knox told her.

She’ll be embarrassed to have her older brother reprimand her right in front of everyone.

Knox’s mouth twitched into a smile. He’d expected Harper to threaten Alethea… maybe demonstrate just how much soul-deep pain could hurt. There would likely never be a day when he could predict her responses.

“Hello, Jolene,” Malden greeted pleasantly, all charm, as Jolene sank into the chair meant for Harper. Male Primes were shuffling along to make room for Martina and Beck, obviously eager to please the astonishingly beautiful Martina who was sweet, kind, and – unbeknown to them – addicted to setting fires.

Jolene smiled. “Well, hello… um…”

Harper leaned forward and supplied, “Malc—”

“Malden,” he quickly corrected.

Jolene nodded slowly. “Of course.”

Tanner spoke into Harper’s ear. “You two just can’t help yourselves, can you?”

Harper shrugged. “It would be no fun if we did.”

He just snorted.

A chair further down scraped against the floor as Alethea sharply pulled it out before none-too-gracefully settling into it, looking much like a spoilt child who was on strike. It was a wonder she didn’t fold her arms across her chest.

Harper’s demon grinned in satisfaction. “She’s a bit of a brat, isn’t she?” A faint vibe of amusement touched Harper’s mind.

Knox lay a hand on his mate’s thigh. “As she’s used to living among humans – a race she finds easy to manipulate – she isn’t used to people not falling in line with whatever she wants.”

“The new studio is coming along very well,” said Jolene.

“It is,” agreed Harper. Her family had been a big help in stripping the place bare and then helping paint the walls, fit the flooring, gloss the doors, put up shelves, update the kitchen, ready the stockroom, and also set up the autoclaves and partitions, etc. Soon enough, they would be able to move in all the equipment and furnishings, and hang up the tattoo flash.




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