Total pages in book: 125
Estimated words: 117510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 588(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 392(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 588(@200wpm)___ 470(@250wpm)___ 392(@300wpm)
“Visiting her sister.” Harper frowned at whatever she saw on his face. “What happened? Please tell me you found out who tried to take Asher.”
“I wish I could.” Knox took her hands and drew her to him. “There’s no tactful way to say this. Alethea’s dead.”
For a long moment, Harper said nothing. “Dead?”
“Dead. Her murder was posted on YouTube.” He told her about the footage and that the killer claimed to be the remaining Horseman. “I advise you not to watch the clip—it’s ugly. You don’t want that in your head.”
Harper shoved a hand through her hair, shocked. She couldn’t pretend to feel any upset over the she-demon’s death. In truth, she hadn’t felt even the most basic respect for Alethea, hence why she’d found great joy in toying with the woman, calling her “dolphin” due to her kind’s random ability to shift into such a mammal. Still, Harper experienced no sense of satisfaction over her death. “That’s a hell of a way to go. I wouldn’t have wished it on her. Wouldn’t wish it on anyone. Except maybe for the person who tried to take Asher. Them I would wish never-ending torture on.”
The culprit would suffer a fuck of a lot worse than what Alethea did—Knox would make sure of it. Many might have been surprised by Harper’s merciful response to Alethea’s death, but that was because they didn’t see the marshmallow center that lay beneath her hard exterior. Knox loved that she had such compassion and mercy in her. Some might view those qualities as weaknesses. But the fact that she was as kindhearted as she was bloodthirsty made her strong, in his opinion. She had many facets, and that gave her an edge.
“I intend to speak with Jonas and find out who Alethea was associating with before she disappeared,” said Knox. “It might be insensitive not to give him space and time to grieve first, but the Horseman is making their move—we don’t have time.”
“Jonas will want the fucker caught. If you make it clear that you intend to make that happen, he’ll be more cooperative. Damn, I feel bad for him. I don’t trust him—not knowing he wanted to make a deal with Lou in the hope of getting his hands on an archdemon—but it must be hard to lose a sibling.” Harper winced, because she remembered that she herself had lost a sibling. She’d also been the one to kill him.
“You’re thinking of Roan. Stop.” Knox rested his hands on her shoulders. “As you’ve said before, it was him or you. You chose you. He was never a brother to you. Never. And let’s not forget that he was working with whoever killed Alethea. Her murderer even named Roan as one of the Horsemen on the video.”
“Carla won’t take that well,” Harper said. Her estranged mother was not only adamant that Roan would never have been involved in a conspiracy to see the US Primes fall, she didn’t believe that the Four Horsemen were even real. Now, she’d have to face the truth. More, she’d have to face that she’d been wrong. Harper was pretty sure that Carla would hate both those things.
As Carla, her mate, Bray, and their youngest son had switched to a lair in Washington, she and Harper hadn’t spoken since before Asher was born. Maybe that should have saddened Harper. It didn’t. Who wanted an attention junkie in their life who’d not only once tried to abort them, but had sold them to their paternal family when trapping their soul in a container hadn’t worked? Harper certainly didn’t.
As an adult, Harper had discovered little things that had suggested a very small part of Carla wished things had been different between them, but the woman really was too twisted to have a healthy mother-child relationship with any of her kids. It was textbook of narcissists, really, so Harper didn’t take it personally.
Initially, it had seemed that Carla had eventually come to terms with Harper being her co-Prime, but Harper had recently discovered that she’d been looking to switch lairs even before Roan’s death. A never-ending victim who thrived on drama, Carla had milked whatever sympathy and attention she could get for his death. She’d also hoped it would turn the lair against Harper. It hadn’t. Carla’s rage had intensified when Harper’s pregnancy earned her the limelight that Carla perpetually craved. So, yeah, there was no hope for them.
“No, she won’t like it,” agreed Knox. “But as she’s in Washington, you won’t have to hear about it.”
“Unless she ventures to the Underground,” Harper pointed out. The demonic playground could be best described as a hyped-up version of the Las Vegas strip, and it attracted demons worldwide.
“The doormen of the club above the entrance to the Underground are under strict orders from me not to allow her, Bray, or Kellen inside. I know you were hoping to have some sort of relationship with Kellen, baby, but I won’t allow him to mess with your head anymore.”