Burn

“I know she won’t like it,” began the hellhound, “but you could shove your way into her mind and force her back to consciousness.”

“Her shields are extraordinary. I can’t get through them without shredding my own psyche.” If he did that, he’d be useless to her. Harper! Harper! Answer me right. Fucking. Now. Still nothing. His demon was pumping his anger into Knox, trying to goad him into handing over the reins; to surrendering control as Knox had done as a child. But he wasn’t that child anymore. He inhaled deeply, digging deep for the strength to fight his rage and anxiety; to think clearly. “Anchored to me, she’s stronger. That means she’ll rejuvenate from Isla’s bite reasonably fast. All I can do in the meantime is repeatedly try to wake her. Then she can tell me where she is.” If she knew where she was.

The door once again opened. Jolene, Beck, and Martina strolled out. Jolene froze, face hardening as she took in the dead bodies and the grim expressions of Knox, Tanner, and Levi. “Where’s my granddaughter?”

It was Tanner who answered. “In the hands of dark practitioners. A demon – probably a stray who had been hired by them – teleported the practitioners here, so they could snatch Harper.”

“We have no idea where she is,” said Levi, “which means we have no idea how to get her out of wherever they’re keeping her.”

Jolene snorted, to everyone’s surprise. “Do you really think my granddaughter can be held anywhere she doesn’t want to be? She may not be an imp, but she’s a Wallis through and through. So tuck your crazy back in, Knox. We need you calm. By the time you get to wherever she is, she’ll already be out of there. Concentrate on planning what you’ll do the bastards that dared to take her.”

“That plan is simple,” rumbled Knox. “They’ll die.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

Harper! Harper! Answer me.

If Knox would just shut the fuck up and let Harper sleep, that would be great. Her head felt heavy and her limbs were like noodles.

Harper! Wake up, baby. His voice had softened slightly, sounded almost…desperate. That made no sense. I need you to wake up.

Trying to sleep here, she grumbled.

A vibe of relief stroked the edges of her mind. Tell me where you are, baby. I can’t find you until I know where you are.

His anxiety made her frown. Knox was never anything but composed. Why are you so—?

Memories suddenly flashed before her…Isla biting her. Tanner carrying her outside. Being surrounded in an alley. Darkness closing in.

Harper snapped to alertness, forcing her eyes open as she tried to bolt upright. Well, shit.

What?

I’m tied, spread-eagle, to some kind of table. There was even a rope around her waist to stop her from squirming. Well, at least she wasn’t naked. That didn’t placate her inner demon – it was totally pissed. Scanning her surroundings, she felt her stomach drop. Well, double shit.

Harper, tell me where the fuck you are.

I don’t know. It’s like some kind of man-made temple. There are candles everywhere, ritual symbols on the walls, and a huge circular ritual marking on the floor…and I can smell dark magick. And it seemed like she was secured to a sacrificial table. How delightful. Looks like it was the practitioners after me all this time. Is Tanner okay?

He’s fine. Do you recognize anything around you?

No. There’s a set of stairs at the end of the room, so I think I might be in a basement of some kind. That’s all I know. I have absolutely no idea where I am.

He bit out a string of curses.

I can get out of here, don’t worry.

Don’t worry? You’re tied down!

You say that like it makes a difference. You know, you constantly underestimate me, and I’ve yet to figure out why. In truth, she was glad he wasn’t able to come straight to her. There was no doubt in her mind that she was being used as bait. After all, if her kidnappers had wanted to kill her, they would surely have done it by now; they would have taken advantage of her unconscious state. If they thought to lure Knox here, they had to also believe they had a way of containing him. She wouldn’t allow that. No fucking way.

Hearing voices approaching, Harper closed her eyes, feigning sleep. There was a loud yet smooth whirring sound…like some kind of machinery was being used. Was the door electronically locked or something? The whirring stopped and then footsteps descended the stairs, slowly making their way toward her. She counted four sets of footsteps.

“Odd that she’s still unconscious,” remarked a very well-spoken male.

I know you’re strong, Harper, but—

Shh, I’ve got company and I’m trying to listen.

“It means being anchored to him hasn’t made her as strong as we’d expected,” continued the eloquent voice. “Are you sure they formed the anchor bond?”

“Well, he calls her his anchor,” replied a coarse voice.

“Yes, Jacques, but that does not mean that they have formed a bond.”

“I figured they did,” defended Jacques.

“Yet, she remains unconscious.”

“That doesn’t have to mean anything, Alton,” said a female voice. Kendra – or whoever the hell she really was. “We don’t know enough about Isla’s bite to know how long a victim typically loses consciousness. We have nothing to measure it by.”

The bitch is here, Harper told Knox. Fake Kendra is here. She must have been hired by the practitioners, so it looks like my little theory was right.