Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 110802 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 554(@200wpm)___ 443(@250wpm)___ 369(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110802 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 554(@200wpm)___ 443(@250wpm)___ 369(@300wpm)
“To do that would be to hold me back in life. I don’t see the sense in doing that. Self-belief is a powerful thing.”
He had a point there, she thought.
“Nora said there would be a child one day. She didn’t sound as if she meant someday soon,” Knox pointed out. “Let’s just cross that bridge when we come to it.”
Harper sipped at her Coke. “What bothers me most of all was that Nora also said people would come for the baby.” She stilled as his eyes very briefly bled to black. That idea clearly riled his demon.
Knox spoke, menace in every syllable. “If we ever have a child and someone comes for it, they’ll suffer so horribly they’ll beg for death.” Only that reprieve wouldn’t come until Knox was ready to give it to them, which could very well be never. His parents hadn’t protected him when he’d needed it. He’d be damned if he failed his child the way they failed him.
“Can I watch you torture them?”
His mouth curved. “Bloodthirsty little thing.”
“Surely this is not new information to you.”
His smile widened. “No, it’s not. And I like that you’re bloodthirsty.” She was a good person, but not innocent. “Innocent” would never be able to handle him or accept him. “Now stop worrying about things that haven’t even happened, get over here, and give me your mouth.”
She sniffed, though she did unclip her seatbelt. “Bossy.”
“Surely this is not new information to you.”
Straddling him, Harper laughed. “No, not new at all.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Harper looked up from her sketchpad as the door swung open and Raini strolled inside their office with a Deli takeout bag. The scent of fresh bread, mayonnaise, smoky meat, and hot peppers wafted over Harper, making her stomach rumble.
“Time for lunch,” said Raini.
“Good, I’m starving.” Standing, Harper did a long, languid stretch.
Raini leaned over the desk to take a closer look at one of the sketches of an owl tattoo. “That’s cool.”
“The client doesn’t like it.”
The succubus frowned. “Really? Why not?”
“She has lots of grand ideas, but she doesn’t know how she wants the tattoo to look. So we sat down and discussed it in length. I did a few rough sketches of different styles, and she agreed that something like this would be great. However, every time she came back to look at what should be the final design, there was something minor that she didn’t like about it. The one you’re looking at is the initial design.” Harper held up another sketch. “This is the seventh revision. I’m hoping that she’s happy with this one.”
Harper understood the need to be completely sure about the design; a tattoo was permanent and, in many cases, had sentimental value. The client should be totally happy with it. But there was being cautious and there was being a nit-picker. This particular client was the latter, though not in a bitchy way… just in a very time-consuming way that plucked at Harper’s impatient nature.
“You have another client coming after lunch and then we’re closing early today so we can go to the BBQ,” Raini reminded her. A family from Jolene’s lair was throwing the BBQ to celebrate someone’s birthday.
“I know. I told the client she’d have to either make another appointment or come back on our walk-in day.” Harper rounded the desk as she added, “I just hope the next one isn’t as chatty as the others.” They’d all peppered her with questions.
Was she excited about the upcoming event?
Did she have a nice outfit?
Would it be delayed until Crow was found?
A few had actually been ballsy enough to ask what she thought about Crow’s vision, though she’d sensed fear behind the question. It was a rational fear, to be fair.
Each time, she’d simply snorted and said, “Why is it that all rogues believe the end of the world is coming? Why don’t they ever think anything nice will happen?”
Praise the Lord that it was Friday. They could all use the weekend to unwind after how hectic things had been of late.
Knox, the sentinels, and the Force had invested a lot of time, energy, and emotion into finding Crow over the past week – so much, in fact, that Knox spent many nights in his office making calls, checking camera feeds for signs of Crow, and also catching up on the amount of work he’d had to put on hold. And, yes, he’d done a lot of brooding.
They hadn’t had much quality time together lately, but she got why and she let him be. Feeding his frustration was that Crow was doing an extremely good job of hiding. He hadn’t once tried to get to Knox. Hadn’t appeared at any of the hotels or showed up on any security cameras anywhere. He was either lying low or Levi’s theory was right and it was quite possible that Crow was dead. The “not knowing” bugged them all.