Harper blinked. “What the—”
Knox flipped her onto her back, slid a hand under her ass, and tilted her hips just right. “Wrap me up tight, baby.”
She locked her limbs around him, and then he was fucking in and out of her like he’d never get enough. She clawed at his back, relishing every hard slam of his cock, wanting more—always more. His teeth scraped over the hollow beneath her ear just as an icy-cold psychic finger stroked her clit just right.
“Come,” Knox rumbled.
White-hot pleasure lashed through Harper like a whip of lightning as she came with a silent scream. He bit out a harsh curse against her neck as he hammered into her even harder, his pace furious, his cock filling her to bursting, making the headboard slam against the wall. She felt pure power gather in his muscles just before he jammed his cock deep and exploded inside her, his hot come splashing her quaking inner walls.
It could have been minutes or hours that they lay there, panting, shuddering. She didn’t mind having him slumped over her. Liked that she could make him so sated he was reduced to a dead weight. “You bring real game to this sexual relationship,” she slurred.
Shoulders shaking, he slid a hand under her back and then rolled, taking her with him. “You’ve got enough ‘game’ of your own.” Skimming his fingertips down her spine, he asked, “You okay?”
“Will be when I can feel my legs again. Playing with my clit and ordering me not to come was just plain mean.”
“It made you come like a fucking freight train, though.”
“I really wish I could argue that.” He chuckled, but the sound cut off fast, making Harper frown. She felt the echo of his telepathic conversation. Felt as he began to tense beneath her. But she didn’t speak until she was sure the conversation was over. “Who was it?”
“Keenan,” replied Knox, expression grim. “They found where Alethea was staying.”
Well, damn.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Glancing around the living room, Harper raised her brows. “Even in this neighborhood, she couldn’t resist having her comforts, could she?”
The little house was in the exact sad state that you’d expect to find any house in such a rough, poverty-stricken area. Yellowed wallpaper was peeling from the walls. Black splotches tarnished the ceilings. Cheap, grubby carpets boasted dubious looking stains.
The furniture, however, was another matter. Honest to God, they were something out of a freaking palace, especially the classic, imperial gold sofa, matching chairs, and piano. As she and Knox strode through the house, they saw that the rest of the furniture was just as luxurious—particularly in the bedroom, with its royal bed and old-fashioned vanity set.
The contrast was just plain weird.
Around them, the sentinels and a number of the Force were examining the two-story house, searching for anything that might have belonged to Alethea’s ally and maybe help identify him. So far, they’d found nothing.
Taking a slow turn around the bedroom, Knox flicked her a brief look. “It surprises me that Alethea agreed to stay here, given how much of an elitist she was. The Horseman really did have her dancing to his tune.” Halting, he turned as Tanner and Larkin entered the room. “Any scents?” Knox asked the hellhound.
Jaw hard, Tanner shook his head. “I can’t even smell Alethea. This place has been ‘wiped’ clean somehow. It smells fresh as a fucking daisy. Like it was magickly cleansed.”
“If someone had the house cleansed, it had to have been the Horseman,” said Harper. “I mean, if Alethea had done it to cover her tracks before moving elsewhere, she’d have taken her stuff. Yet, all this furniture is here.”
“And the fancy wardrobe and drawers are full of clothes and shoes,” Larkin added. “Plus, the trinket box on the vanity is almost bulging with expensive jewelry. I can’t imagine why she’d have left all this behind.” The harpy sighed. “I’ve searched every drawer, shelf, cupboard, nook, and cranny. There isn’t a single clue that could lead us to the Horseman.”
“No, he’s done a good job of ensuring there’s no trace of him here,” said Knox.
Tanner tipped his head to the side. “I wonder why he didn’t remove all her stuff after her death.”
“Maybe he figured the people here would steal it and, in doing so, do the job for him,” suggested Larkin with a shrug.
Tanner pursed his lips. “Maybe.”
“She must have had someone teleport it all here,” said Harper. “If the locals saw this stuff being moved in here, she’d have been robbed within a week.”
Knox nodded. “I was just thinking the very same thing.”
“Knox!” Levi called out from downstairs. “You might want to come and take a look at this!”
Exchanging a look with Harper, Knox walked out of the room and then headed downstairs with his mate and the two sentinels behind him. He found Levi in the hallway, hanging out of a closet door. Crossing to the reaper, Knox realized that the closet led to a basement. “What is it?” Knox asked him.
“You need to see it for yourself,” said Levi.
Following the reaper, Knox descended into the dark space. The wooden steps creaked beneath his feet, and the banister shook as Knox slid his hand down its surface. He glanced at Harper over his shoulder. “Watch the banister, baby. It isn’t stable.”
“Neither is this staircase,” said Harper. The steps gave slightly, unable to fully support her weight. Stepping onto the cement floor, she frowned. No scents of must or mildew met her nose. It smelled just as fresh as the other floors, which meant that … “It’s been cleansed.”
“It has,” Tanner confirmed as he and Larkin joined them. Keenan was already there, drinking from his flask as he searched the shadowy corners.
Harper moved to the center of the space and did a slow spin, canvasing her surroundings. It wasn’t easy, since the single, bare bulb buzzed and flickered. But she could see that, like the rest of the house, there were damp spots and cracks in the floor and walls. There was nothing down there except for the furnace, water tank, breaker box, utility shelves, and stacks of dusty boxes, yet the space strangely didn’t feel unused.
She flexed her fingers as unease weirdly slithered through her, making her stomach quiver and her scalp prickle. “I don’t like it here. At all.”
“Me neither,” said Larkin.
“Do you feel it?” Levi asked Knox.
Gazing at a particular wall, Knox nodded. “There’s a … wrongness. Like something is out of place. Or as if we simply can’t see the space as it should be.” He stepped forward and laid his hand on the cold wall, “feeling” magickal energy, “reading” it. “Someone cast some sort of concealment spell.”
Harper’s brows shot up. “Concealment spell?”
“Yes,” said Knox, backing up. “We’ll need an incantor to unravel it.”
Harper looked at Levi. “Your friend’s an incantor, right?”
“I’ll call her,” said Levi, digging out his cell phone before heading upstairs to make the call.
Knox turned to Harper. “While we wait for her to arrive, we can interview the human outside.”
It was Khloë who had found someone that recognized Alethea’s picture. Harper had asked her to stay with the human to make sure he didn’t disappear. She’d also asked Khloë not to fully question him as Harper and Knox wanted to do that themselves.
Following Knox out of the house, she saw Khloë across the street, standing beside a dark-skinned kid who was straddling a bike. Spotting Knox, his brown eyes flickered nervously. The kid might not know that Knox was a demon, but he could still sense the danger in him.
Harper exchanged a quick, grateful smile with Khloë and then slid her gaze to the boy. “It’s Isaiah, right?” Khloë had told her a little about him.
He nodded curtly, trying to look tough. “Yeah.”
“I’m Harper. This is my husband, Knox.”