Harper, wake up, baby. Harper? Harper, WAKE THE FUCK UP!
Harper’s eyes snapped open as the telepathic shout seemed to rattle her brain, making her wince. She blinked rapidly, struggling to bring her surroundings into focus, groaning at the throbbing pain in her head. The smudge in her vision cleared, and she saw Asher sitting on the ground a few feet away, babbling to himself while shaking Hound, like he was playing on the rug at home. But they weren’t at home. They were … in a rainforest? What the hell—
The jet went down.
Her heart leaped in horror, slamming against her ribs, as memories flickered through her mind. The distance between her and Asher suddenly felt like miles. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
She tried bolting upright. And she instantly regretted it as pain exploded in her skull, streaked down her back, and lanced through her left wing-stem. The shock of the white-hot pain made her muscles lock tight. Motherfucker. She clenched her teeth, but a long hiss escaped. The sound caught Asher’s attention.
He looked at her and—unbelievably—a smile creased his face. There were dried tears on his cheeks, but he didn’t appear to be in any pain. In fact, there didn’t seem to be even a scratch on him, thank God. Her body and wings had protected him.
A growl rumbled out of Knox. Harper, you need to—
I’m awake, I’m awake, she assured him. A vibe of relief reverberated against her mind.
How long had she been out? Looking up, she saw snatches of sunlight through the thick, lush canopy. The sky hadn’t darkened. The fact that her wings hadn’t melted into her back suggested that she hadn’t been unconscious long.
Where are you, baby? Knox asked, urgency in every syllable. I need to know where you are.
Give me a sec, I can’t see shit from the floor. Moving slowly, she plastered her hands onto the damp, slick moss beneath her and pushed herself onto her hands and knees. Wooziness hit hard, and her head swam. “I will not pass out again,” she said through her teeth. “I will not.” Because then her baby would be vulnerable.
Breathing through the wave of dizziness that had rushed over her, Harper took stock of herself. Nothing was broken. But she had a few aches here and there, and she could feel little licks of fire on her skin. She suspected she was covered in cuts and scratches.
Standing, Harper glanced back at her wings. She winced. One had a long tear running through it, like it had been raked by the claw of a big jungle cat. It was also numb, so the stem must have taken a hard hit. Her demon bared her teeth, beyond pissed and raring to hunt the fucker responsible.
Where are you? Knox demanded. Tanner will track you, but we could do with a little help here.
If she’d been able to throw fireballs, she would have launched one in the air like a flare. Taking a tentative step toward Asher, she glanced around them. There were no landmarks. Only thick trees, ropy vines, thorny plants, hanging moss, and gleaming leaves of all shapes and sizes. Green, green, and more fucking green.
Beneath the birds calls and the crickets chirping was … Waterfall. I can hear a waterfall close by. And monkeys shrieking. Damn, she hated monkeys.
Tanner says he can hear a waterfall in the distance, along with some monkeys fighting. Stay where you are. We’ll track you. There’s no sense in me doing a flyover to search for you. The foliage is too thick and heavy.
We won’t move, she promised him, swiping her hands together, trying to dust the grit from her fingers.
Tell me you and Asher are okay, Knox urged.
We’re okay. Sort of. The biggest issue was that her wing was fucked, preventing her from flying her and Asher to safety. Thankfully, though, he seemed to be fine.
Who the fuck had shot them down? That she’d really like to know. She had the feeling she’d find out soon enough. It was highly likely that they’d search for her. Her hope was that Knox found her first.
Head still pounding, she made her way to Asher—well, staggered her way to him. The spongy moss didn’t help her balance at all. With a single thought, she made her wings melt into her back until they were once again tattoos. It hurt like a bitch, since the stem was damaged.
Crouching down, she kissed Asher’s head, wishing she could pick him up and hold him tight but not trusting herself not to fall just yet. “Sorry I passed out, sweetie. Thank God you’re okay.”
Smiling, Asher reached out and made a grab for her nose. Taking his hand, she pressed a kiss to his little palm. “Daddy’s coming soon. Daddy and Tanner and Levi. We’re going to be fine.” She skimmed her knuckles down his hot cheek, wishing they had water. Mouth dry and sticky, she licked her lips, tasting salty sweat. Swallowing was almost painful as the air was just so thick on her tongue—
A twig snapped.
She froze, attention sharpening. Her eyes narrowed as a large black cat prowled out from behind a huge tree on Asher’s far right-hand side. Heart pounding in her chest like a drumbeat, she shot to her feet and—ignoring the explosion of pain in her head—rushed to block the animal’s path, having no intention whatsoever of letting it get to Asher.
As it neared them, she realized it was no jungle cat. No, it was a hellcat. One she knew. Betrayal curdled her stomach, and Harper snarled at Drew’s demon as a red haze fell over her vision. “You son of a bitch.”
It curled back its upper lip—the act almost seemed like a taunt.
Before she even thought about it, she was stalking toward the bastard, fingers tingling with the protective power that had rushed from her belly to her fingertips. While her blood roared in her ears, it was a wonder that she heard leaves rustling behind her … but she did.
Twisting, she saw a big black fucking shuck standing in front of Asher. Dread and realization crashed into her, making the blood drain from her face. Oh, God, Drew had baited her. Lured her away from Asher. And she’d fallen for it. Mouth dry, pulse racing, she could only stare as the shuck snarled and snapped its teeth at her little boy.
Her demon hissed, wanting to lunge at the shuck but anxious that it would react by attacking Asher … which the shuck was no doubt counting on.
“You tracked them,” said a male voice. “Well done.”
Her head whipped to the side as two men slowly came into view, halting a good ten feet away from Asher. Every muscle in her body tensed. One of the males was short, gray-haired, and completely unfamiliar. As for the other one … that was another matter. A matter that made her blood boil and her mouth drop open in utter shock.
It couldn’t be him. Really. It just couldn’t be him. Because if it was, it would mean he’d fooled them all. Played them all. Because even though she’d learned from Knox that the guy had in fact smoked on occasion, and even though she recalled once hearing how much the asshole enjoyed attending Vegas shows—which would have made him a likely purchaser of Cirque du Soleil tickets—she just wouldn’t have imagined that he’d truly kill his own sister, especially in such a gruesome way.
Suddenly, it was too quiet. No bird calls, no crickets chirping, no droning of mosquitos. Only the distant roar of the waterfall.
Jonas flashed her a grin. “Evening, Harper. You’re looking a little worse for wear.” He gave Asher that same smile, but her son was too busy staring at the shuck. Not in fear, though. No, Asher looked utterly fascinated by it.
The sight of him sitting there, vulnerable and alone, made her want to cry. Shame curdled in her stomach. She was such a fucking idiot. How could she let herself be baited that way? How could she be that fucking stupid?
She had to get to Asher. Had to. Although she couldn’t cover six feet in one lunge, she could certainly get to Asher a lot fucking quicker than Jonas could. Sadly, the shuck would get there first. Plus, the hellcat—who was now standing a few feet behind Asher—would probably rush to block her path anyway.
Godfuckingdammit. Knox, Drew’s here. But he’s not the Horseman. It’s fucking Jonas.
And she needed to get the bastard away from her son. Needed to think. Plan. Act.
She needed the flames o
f fucking hell, that was what she needed.
Jonas? Knox echoed, his voice a guttural growl.
Yes. Which still boggled her mind. But I can’t fry the fucker. Asher doesn’t have his shield up, even though he has a black shuck in front of him and a hellcat behind him. Also, Jonas has some guy with him. If I call on the flames to burn one of them …
The others could attack Asher before you get the chance to direct the flames their way. Knox bit out a harsh expletive. Keep them distracted as best you can, baby. I’ll be there soon.
“Asher, put your shield up, sweetie.” Harper knew he wouldn’t understand the words, but she hoped he might respond to the urgency in her voice. He didn’t. Instead, he beamed at the shuck and waved, apparently unfazed by its snarls. Yes, he waved.
She just hoped to God that his inner demon would encourage Asher to protect himself. It had done a decent job of that so far. She spoke to his demon as she said, I’m trusting you to protect him. She didn’t receive a response.
God, she wanted to cry. Scream. Rave. Beat her fists into something or someone. Preferably Jonas, the motherfucker. She had the power to kill him and it was oh, so close. All she had to do was tap into her link with her wings and use it as a bridge to the power that waited on the other end of it. It would be so very easy, but she couldn’t call on the power right then.
As the shuck released a loud growl at Asher, she tensed, coiled to spring even as she knew it could be a very bad idea. She couldn’t just fucking stand there while it hurt her son!
“I wouldn’t move if I were you,” Jonas warned her. “If you do, I’ll have Drew rip out your son’s throat. I believe you’re well-acquainted with him, aren’t you? He’s been rather helpful these past couple of weeks. Who can blame him for standing with me after what Knox did to him?”
Harper narrowed her eyes, hands fluttering slightly with a desperation she tried to hide. She suspected the only reason Jonas hadn’t directed the shuck to attack Asher was that he didn’t want to risk him raising his shield. The Prime was also enjoying her fear for her son. It would be damn good if Asher felt that same fear, but he was still smiling at the shuck.
“You don’t really think you can keep me from my son, do you?” Harper asked, keeping her tone controlled and flat, hoping to hide the sheer terror choking her.
“Maybe not. But he can.” Jonas clicked his fingers at the man at his side, who sputtered a brief chant. And then, just like that, she was enclosed in an iron cage much like the one in the basement where Alethea kept her captives to feed the incorporeal, only its bars covered in what looked like lava. What the everloving fuck?
As her demon predictably lost its shit, ranting and raving and determined that these fuckers would die today, Harper grabbed the iron bars, intending to shake the cage, but the liquid fire coating it burned like a goddamn son of a fucking bitch. She snatched her hands back, grinding her teeth as her skin sizzled. Knox, don’t come into view. Jonas has a dark practitioner who can cage people with magick.
You’re caged? Fuck. I’m going to rip out their fucking spinal cords.
She could so get behind that plan. Stay downwind of the hellcat and the shuck. It was a wonder she’d managed to sound composed when her mind was in chaos at being separated from Asher this way. She wanted to pound her fists against the cage. But Jonas would love that display of emotion. The flames of hell would sever the iron bars, but she couldn’t call on them without risking the others harming Asher.
Please, baby boy, put up your shield, she begged him. But still, Asher didn’t.
Jonas studied her. “You lied about not having wings, I see.” He exhaled. “I suppose that was Jolene’s idea. She no doubt suspected you’d be hunted due to how unique they are, so she advised you to claim that you had none. Sensible. They’re quite beautiful—the colors of the flames of hell.” His eyes darted to the shuck as it weirdly whined and shook its head. “I did intend to cage the boy … but I think the sight of him surrounded by hellish beasts will terrify Knox much more than seeing him confined.”
Harper knew he’d be right on that, since it had instilled the same terror in her.
“Since you don’t appear to be deep in grief, I’m guessing that Knox is still alive.” Jonas sighed sadly. “I had doubted that the crash would be enough to kill him, but the hope was certainly there. I suppose you’ve already telepathed him with news of my presence. Good. I want him afraid for you. And what better way to frighten him than to slather your mind with a spell that will prevent anyone from sensing you—he’ll think you’re dead.”
Harper stiffened, stomach rolling. “That’s not possible.”
Jonas shot the practitioner a sideways glance. “Charles.”
She felt an oily tendril of magick poke her mind like a fingertip … and then she watched with a smile as Charles winced and rubbed at his temple. “Her mind is protected with sharp psychic barbs,” he complained.
Jonas’s mouth tightened. “What about the boy?”
A hiss slid out of her before she could stop it, which only made Jonas give her a gloating smile.
Charles plucked at his collar. “He may well have inherited her psychic barbs. Even if he hasn’t, touching his mind would be a bad idea if you really don’t want him to slam up his shield. A foreign psychic touch could make him and his demon feel threatened.”
“True,” Jonas ground out. “Look at him, Harper, just sitting there staring at the shuck—completely unafraid. Your son is either very brave or very stupid.”
“Funny. I was thinking the same thing about you. This won’t end well for you, Jonas, and you know it. I can’t even imagine why you started it.” She frowned as a hazy swirl appeared in front of the cage. Then, suddenly, an imitation of Heidi stood in its place, smiling slyly. Harper gave it a scathing look and then spoke to Jonas, “Ah, it’s your little pet dog again.” The incorporeal bared its teeth.
“That’s such a mean thing to say.”
The words didn’t come from the incorporeal. Or Jonas. Or the practitioner. They came from the person who strolled out of the trees and sidled up to Jonas.
Harper’s mouth dropped open. What. The. Fuck?
“It was the incorporeal you saw burn on the YouTube video,” said Alethea, smirking. “It took on my form so I could fake my death. Ta-da,” she sang, like she’d performed a magic trick. “Oh, come on, that was clever—admit it.”
“You didn’t even consider it, did you?” The incorporeal sighed, as if it pitied Harper. “I can maintain a physical form. And just as I can choose what form to take, I can change that form. Make it appear as though it is wet, burning, decaying—whatever I want.”
Harper slid her gaze back to Jonas. “You faked her death so that you wouldn’t be a suspect?”
“I did believe it was unlikely that you would suspect me of ever harming my sister. But, mostly, I did it because Thatcher was suspicious of her—he was having her watched because he suspected she was the remaining Horseman. Killing him would have been stupid of me, since some believed him to be the Horseman. It was far better to have him as a scapegoat. But I needed him to stop keeping tabs on her. Charles here was good enough to slather her mind in a spell that protected her from being sensed.”
Hearing the shuck snort and shake its head, like something was jammed up its nose or something, Jonas paused a moment to shoot it an exasperated look. Turning back to Harper, he went on, “I was rather hoping Alethea’s ‘death’ would make you and Knox suspects, considering how much you both detest her, but—alas—that did not pan out.” His eyes flicked to the hellcat. “I should really give Alethea the credit for bringing Drew to our side. I have to say, you don’t look very surprised to see him, Harper.”
“You made a mistake taking him to the house and showing him the prison in your basement,” said Harper.
“Ah, so you found a way to untangle the spells.” Jonas gave a delicate shrug. “No matter.”
Well, it seemed to matter to dear old Charles—he looked pissed that
someone had undone his work.
Harper’s eyes helplessly slid to Asher as she reached out to Knox. Alethea is alive. The incorporeal posed as her on the YouTube clip.
Anger crashed into her consciousness. That bitch, he growled. We’re close.
Clenching her fists, Harper felt her nails digging into her blistered palms; the pain distracted her from the debilitating fear. “I thought it was the Four Horsemen. Alethea would make that five.” He gave her a look that questioned her intelligence, and her brow knitted as she suddenly recalled something. “Isla recruited Roan after she started the campaign to be Monarch. He was never really a Horseman, was he?”
“Oh, he was a Horseman,” said Jonas. “He was the one who came up with the pathetic name. He would have branded us the Five Horsemen if he’d known I was involved.”
“Why didn’t you tell him?”
“I didn’t trust him not to keep his mouth shut. He wasn’t as easy for Isla to recruit as you might have thought. It wasn’t that he felt any loyalty toward you. But he did fear Knox. I’m sure you noticed that Roan was somewhat egotistical. Isla appealed to that; told him that she, Alethea, and Nora needed a man to help them; that they’d been looking for someone who they thought was strong, smart, and brave enough to help them take Knox on. He practically rolled over in delight.” Jonas sighed. “So easily manipulated. But then, so were Isla and Nora.”
It was Jonas who had started and led the group, Harper realized. “I don’t think Roan was the only person scared of Knox. I think you’re pretty terrified of him. You sat back and let the other Horsemen take all the risks. Hell, you basically set them up as sacrifices. And now you’re here with your sister and a practitioner to hold your hand—not to mention you have an incorporeal, a shuck, and a hellcat to protect you.” She gave a snort of derision. “Oh yeah, very brave, Jonas.”
Face tightening, he cut his gaze to the incorporeal and tipped his chin. The entity abandoned Heidi’s form, fading and then bursting into vapor. Harper winced as she felt a sudden pressure against her mind; like knives trying to slice through her skull. Then the pressure abruptly disappeared, and the vapor jerked back, obviously hurt by her psychic shields. It whooshed through the air and plunged into Charles, who blinked rapidly, but it didn’t seem to take control of him; simply needed to hitchhike on him.
Embers Page 29
