Ashes(27)

He sighed. "You always ask me that. Why?"



"You just fucked me into oblivion. You should have no energy."



He licked at the anchor mark on the hollow beneath her ear. She'd left a similar mark on his, effectively branding him as her anchor. "I can't be inside you and not be hard."



He rolled them both onto their sides, keeping her close. Feeling him stroke her back, Harper knew he was searching for any slices that hadn't yet completely healed. "They're gone," she assured him.



Though he was pretty sure that was in fact the case, Knox needed to see that for himself. He gently turned her onto her stomach and swept his hand down her sleek back. No wounds, no blemishes, no trace that she'd ever been hurt – there was only the tattoo-like marks of her wings.



Relieved, Knox pressed a kiss between her shoulder blades, silently promising not to allow anyone to take the wings from her. And when he found the person who sent those hunters her way, he'd make what the hunters went through seem like a fucking pleasure cruise.





CHAPTER FIVE





The coffeehouse was always fairly busy in the mornings, so Harper was used to standing in the long line. Patience wasn't her strong point, but it would be worth the wait. She didn't need to look at the menu board or the chalkboard advertising the specials. She always ordered a caramel latte – it had become her ritual, and nowhere did lattes better than this place.



So she stood there, surrounded by the sounds of chatting, the hum of the blenders and espresso machines, and the clatter of mugs and dishes being stacked in the dishwasher. She didn't mind the noise, though. She did mind that her tongue was burning like crazy for no apparent reason. Hopefully the latte would help with that.



Harper inhaled deeply, taking in the comforting smells and coffee beans. She loved it. Loved how the scents of chocolate, cinnamon, caramel, and nutmeg blended so nicely with it. Usually, she'd be tempted by the pastries inside the glass case. Honestly, she was more interested in snatching the tall canister of whipped cream and eating it all to herself. An interest she would, of course, totally ignore because it was just plain weird.



Tanner and the girls were gathered around the bistro table near the window; it had become their spot. Tanner, as usual, was flicking through a newspaper, but Harper knew he was fully aware of everything going on around him.



Finally reaching the front of the line, Harper smiled at the barista. "Morning."



"Good morning. I placed your usual order as soon as I spotted you – it should be ready by now." It was something the she-demon often did, since they always ordered the same things.



"Thank you." Harper handed her the money and, after placing her change in the tip jar, headed to the end of the counter. There, another barista was placing cups on a tray. This particular she-demon, Wren, reminded Harper of one of her cousins – she was bright, ditsy, and extremely quirky.


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She smiled at Harper. "Got your order right here." She placed one of the cups in Harper's hand. "Try this instead of a latte."



Harper sniffed. "What is it?"



"Just frothed vanilla milk."



"But I love my lattes." Harper was ashamed to say she almost whined that.



"I know, but spice is the variety of life …  or whatever." Her brow creased in concern as she added, "I heard about the attack. How are you?"



Harper wasn't surprised that the news was getting around. The demonic grapevine worked at a seriously fast speed. "I'm fine, thanks. I'll feel even better if you give me my latte."



Wren smiled. "Not scared of a little milk, are you?"



Harper felt her lips quirk. "You can be weird sometimes, you know."



Wren's eyes twinkled. "Maybe we're twins."



Harper laughed. "Maybe." A whistle made her look over her shoulder. Devon was stood at the condiment trolley, tapping her watch impatiently. Harper rolled her eyes and turned back to Wren. "I'll try the damn milk." She took a cautious sip. Harper had always been a caramel girl, but the frothed vanilla tasted super good. Even better, it seemed to soothe her burning tongue. Still, Harper made a put-out huff. "Fine, I'll take it."



Wren chuckled. "You're welcome."



"Yeah, yeah." Lifting the tray, Harper headed to Devon, who then quickly helped her add sugar, milk, and other toppings to the drinks.