Burn

Her face a mask of agony, Jeanna gurgled, flapping her hands at the knife as blood fairly pumped out of the wound. She stumbled once before dropping to the ground, eyes blank. Harper retrieved her blade and, cold though it was, wiped it on the nightmare’s t-shirt. It took a few moments for her to die…and that was when the shield winked out.

The practitioners began to circle her, ready to pounce. By then, Harper had already pulled the second long, thin blade out of her hair and infused it with hellfire. Well, if she was going to die here, she’d take at least one of these bastards with her. The six males exchanged knowing looks, and she had the feeling a spell would be coming her way. Had a feeling that—

A mind slid very firmly against her own. Knox?

I see you. It was a rumble.

Instinct had her looking to her left. And there he was. Just standing in the field, his body language casual. Don’t come near the house!

“He’s here!” exclaimed someone from below – apparently not all of the practitioners had joined her on the roof. “Get into your positions now!”

The magickal fuckers disappeared. Well, all but one.

The remaining practitioner smirked at Knox. “If you want her, come get—” He cut off with a scream as a huge, black blur leaped onto the roof and barreled into him. Tanner. The practitioner screamed over and over as the hellhound tore into him with teeth and claws.

“Hey, sphinx, let’s go!” called out a familiar voice.

Harper smiled at Larkin, who was hovering at a standstill with her gorgeous midnight black wings out. “’Bout fucking time you shitheads got here.”

Larkin just laughed, gripping Harper around the waist as she flew them off the roof and headed to—

Motherfucker. Slamming hard into a wall, Larkin and Harper fell gracelessly to the ground. But there was no wall, she observed with a frown. She shoved out her hand, hitting something solid that flickered white like a bulb. It was a large energy barrier. They were trapped in the cube that was meant for Knox. Worse, two practitioners headed for Harper and Larkin as the she-demons got to their feet. And Harper’s blades had fallen from her grip when she hit the ground. Shit.

“We now have your mate and two of your sentinels! Would you like us to free them?”

Knox didn’t respond. Just stood still and composed in that eerie way that he had. His dark eyes gave nothing away.

“If you wish for them to be free, you must trade places with them!” continued the practitioner. It was clear that he was nervous. But he was also excited, obviously confident that he would get what he wanted. And that confidence freaked Harper out. The cube had to be particularly strong. “Their life for yours!”

Still nothing at all from Knox. He didn’t appear in the slightest bit fazed.

Unnerved by Knox’s cool exterior, the practitioner licked his lips. “If you do not give us what we want, we will kill them!”

“No.” Knox’s tone was so cool yet so menacing. “You won’t.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Seeing Harper there, injured and at risk of being killed right in front of him, the past and the present collided; Knox’s hold on his fury slipped a little. He had watched his parents die. He wouldn’t watch Harper die, wouldn’t allow anyone to take her from him. The demon was raging at the danger to her. It wanted to express its rage in the only way it knew how.

“Surrender yourself, and we will free them!” shouted the bastard now pointing a knife at his mate’s throat. “If you do not, she will die!”

More anger pulsed through Knox, mingling with his demon’s rage. “Give her to me, or you’ll all die.”

“We know what you are!” The practitioner wore a self-satisfied yet shaky smirk. “You’re Lucifer himself.”

Had Knox not been drowning in a fury that bordered on madness, he might have laughed. As it was, Harper and Larkin did laugh. “I’m not Lucifer,” Knox told him. “I’m worse.”

Knox released the power buzzing through his veins; let it fill the air as he called to what birthed him, to what lived inside him. The ground shook beneath him as flames circled his body and licked over his skin. The fire within Knox surfaced, beginning to take over every inch of him. “Now you die.”

Oh, shit, thought Harper. Every hair on her body stood on end as a gray, thick cloud began to build directly above Knox, swirling and frothing. It looked alive, aggressive. At the same time, a red haze began to fall, and she quickly realized the moon had bled from silvery white to blood red. Worse, the flames that had circled Knox were now heading for the house, leaving a trail of black and red ashes in their wake. A figure of raging fire, Knox slowly walked towards the building.

“The flames of hell,” gasped the practitioner who was pointing the knife at her. He fisted her collar and began dragging her away. Not a chance. She went limp in his hold, causing him to stumble and bend forward. Then she slammed her hand down on his foot, letting the protective power in her fingertips pass into his body and torment his soul. As he cried out, she grabbed her stiletto blade from the ground and thrust it upwards, burying it into his heart just as she infused it with hellfire.

Blood dripped onto her face – ew – as she withdrew the blade and shuffled away from him. When he hit the ground like a sack of potatoes, she turned to Larkin...just in time to watch the harpy finish off the second practitioner with nothing more than her hands.

Harper might have expressed her admiration for the female’s combat techniques if it wasn’t for something else. “We’re surrounded.” Flames at least ten feet high framed the psi-cube that enclosed the house. It was odd seeing fire without smoke. “The cube’s still up.” That meant no one had managed to escape. “The practitioners wanted to trap him. Instead, they’ve trapped themselves.” It was almost ironic.