Seeming to revel in the noise of the crowd, Mona tossed Harper a dismissive glance.
"Joining me in this circle was a big mistake, Harper."
She said her name with utter distaste. Yeah, a lot of people felt that way.
Why? Because Harper was known amongst her social circle for being the sphinx without wings. An oddity. An abnormality. Some people made the mistake of believing that made her easy prey. Mona was clearly one of them.
Harper simply taunted, "Prove it."
With a smirk, Mona conjured an orb of hellfire—a standard ability that most demons had—and hurled it at Harper. Sharply stepping to the side, Harper dodged the orb. But in spite of the anger threatening to steal her self-control, she didn't retaliate, which clearly puzzled Mona.
What the harbinger didn't realize was that Harper didn't want to duel with her, she didn't deem the bitch worthy of one. All Harper wanted was to get a grip on the dumb heifer.
Of course, she had abilities which would allow her to hurt Mona from a distance. But if she wanted to cause the harbinger real pain, she'd need to get her hands on her. Unfortunately, Mona seemingly intended to attack from afar. Harper needed to lure her close. That meant pissing her off—something Harper was totally okay with.
By nature, Harper was a reasonably collected person. But she had a temper that ran quick and hot.
"You know, I can't work out why you thought you'd get away with having your little friends attack Khloë," sneered Harper. "Do you feel empty inside? I mean, like, in your skull?"
"Bitch," hissed Mona. She launched one orb of hellfire after another; aiming for Harper's head, chest, legs, and abdomen.
Harper evaded most of them, purposely allowing one to clip her shoulder and another to graze her leg. She didn't want Mona to know how fast she was. She wanted Mona to be confident enough to come closer.
"All this because Gael chose Khloë over you three years ago? Really? How pathetic."
"He didn't choose her. She lured him away."
Khloë could control most minds, but she had too much self-respect to ever use the ability to get a guy who didn't want her.
"We both know that isn't true. But even if it was, two wrongs don't make a right. Your parents have proved that."
Snarling, Mona conjured two orbs of hellfire and threw them simultaneously. Harper ducked, evading both. Lightning fast, she whipped a stiletto blade out of her boot, curving her hand around the ruby-red marble handle.
Mona laughed. "You think a little knife will save you?"
Ordinarily, probably not.
"It's almost cute."
Harper sidestepped the orb of hellfire that flew her way. Conjuring orbs was something Harper had personally never been able to master. She could create hellfire, but she couldn't shape it into anything.
She could, however, do something else.
Generating hellfire in her left hand, Harper then infused it into the knife. Like that, the blade was aflame and totally lethal.
Stilling, Mona gaped. For a brief moment, the crowd fell silent. They had all obviously assumed that the reason Harper wasn't retaliating was that she didn't have any offensive gifts to boast of—wrong.
Wearing a patronizing smile, Harper twirled her blade on her finger.
"Personally, I think this beats orbs."
Because she could infuse hellfire into any object, making them instantly deadly. A blade. A pen. A hairclip. Anything.
"If I didn't know any better, I'd think that was fear on your chimp-like face."
Mona caught a dagger that one of her friends threw her and then launched herself at Harper—giving her exactly what she wanted.
Harper evaded the sword, slashed Mona's thigh, and then slammed her palm into Mona's abdomen.
Mona dropped to her knees, shuddering, with her mouth open in a silent scream of excruciating agony. It wasn't because of the hellfire eating away at her flesh. No, it was because of something far worse.
The crowd once more turned quiet, no doubt confused as to why a mere slice and a single hit had taken Mona down.
Harper squatted in front of her.
"No one fucks with my family. Go near any of them again, and this pain will seem like a fucking slap on the wrist. You got me?"
Mona fell onto her side and curled into a fetal position, sobbing, just as the umpire dashed over.
"What's happening?" he asked.
Harper returned her blade to her boot.
"She's getting what she deserved."
With that, she strode out of the combat circle.
It took a few minutes to squeeze through the cheering, congratulatory crowd before she reached her cousins near the exit of the dome.
Keeping in step with her, Khloë fanned her face.
"I'm so happy, I could cry."
Ciaran looked pissed.
"I can't believe the bitch sent her friends to—"
They halted as two demons suddenly planted themselves in front of them. The male was broad-shouldered and dark-haired with golden eyes that made her think of a wolf. The female was tall, slender, and had a stunningly sleek braid hanging over her shoulder.
Harper had seen them patrolling the Underground many times, knew exactly what they were—sentinels.
The male told Harper,
"Mr. Thorne would like to talk to you."
Fuck.
"Oh yeah? I'm not really the chatty type."
The female smiled, genuinely amused.
"I'm sure you won't mind sparing Mr. Thorne a few minutes."
Well, actually, Harper did mind. Given everything she knew about Knox Thorne, the prospect of meeting him didn't exactly fill her with joy—especially since there was a little something else about him that bugged their kind: no one seemed to know what breed of demon he was.
Harper didn't like blind spots.
But it was vital to never show weakness to a predator, and backing away from the challenge in his sentinels' eyes would definitely make her look weak.
"Fine."
"Just you," the male said.
Harper inclined her head.
"Wait at the Xpress bar," she told her cousins. "I'll be back soon."
Without giving them a chance to object, she followed the two sentinels behind the dome and up a flight of stairs.
When they finally stopped outside a door marked Office, the male rapped his knuckles on it.
She could feel Knox's power from there. It reached out and encased the door almost protectively.
When a shockingly sensual voice summoned them to enter, the male sentinel opened the door and signaled for her to step inside.
Then the two sentinels backed away and left her.
Inhaling deeply, Harper slipped inside…
and found herself fighting the urge to stare in awe at the tall, imposing figure standing behind a glass desk.
Deep-set dark eyes that matched the color of his hair locked on Harper, and the intensity there rocked her.
Her body instantly responded.
Molten lust licked at her, making her breasts ache, her nipples harden, and every inch of her skin suddenly feel hypersensitive.
Well, shit.
All demons had natural sex appeal, and she'd heard that Knox's effect was more potent than most, but Harper still hadn't been prepared for the sheer impact of him.
He radiated alpha energy, projected a raw sexual magnetism that would make any girl sensually starving.
As she took in his bold stare, powerful stance, and air of self-possession, lots of words came to mind:
Powerful. Forceful. Confident. Controlled. Dauntless. Determined.
Damn if it didn't make him intimidating.
Refusing to buckle under the force of it all, Harper shut the door and waited.
He said nothing. Didn't greet her. Didn't invite her to sit. Just stared at her with that dark, penetrating gaze that was sizing her up, and the atmosphere seemed to thicken with tension.
But there was no chance she would avert her eyes. This was a test of her strength, and she wasn't prepared to fail it.
Finally, looking like he'd just stepped out of a GQ magazine, Knox slowly rounded the desk and walked toward her.
No—walked wasn't the right word.
He breezed, glided—moved with an animal grace that demanded attention and could easily keep it.
Her inner demon froze, feeling threatened by this male that exuded danger.
And he was dangerous—it was apparent in the way he moved, in his posture, in the tension coiled in his muscles that rippled beneath his black suit.
She would bet that suit cost more than her entire wardrobe.