Ashes(40)

She nodded. "My butt hurts."



Robbie's face went hard. "I'll kill him."



The people who'd ran after the bad man came back, panting. One of them shrugged and said, "He's gone."


      ///
       
         
       
        



Robbie growled. "He's what?"



The human shoved a hand through his hair, looking baffled. "It was like he just …  disappeared. He's gone."



Leaning forward in the overstuffed armchair, Harper lifted her mug of tea from the mahogany coffee table and blew over the rim. "Thanks, Grams."



Jolene smiled from her spot on the couch, one leg crossed over the other. "You're welcome, sweetheart."



Harper took a sip of the tea. She'd asked for coffee, but Jolene had insisted that she needed something to help her "relax". Really, she didn't need the tea to relax – not when she was at Jolene's house, even though her head was pounding. It was a place she loved; a place where she'd always felt safe; a place that always seemed to smell of coffee, cookies, and lavender.



If the scent of Jolene's infamous cookies wasn't enough to make a person feel welcome, they'd certainly feel put at ease by the homey feel to the place. The earthy colors, throw cushions, fleecy blankets, cherished keepsakes, and framed photos – it was a home, not just a house, and that was no doubt what often drew so many of their family and lair there.



Ironically, part of what made it feel so safe for Harper was that it was a constant hub of activity. Her relatives were always coming and going, and it had always made Harper feel protected and secure. It wasn't something she could explain – it just was.



Jolene studied her closely. "You seem better today."



"I feel it." She was still tired, but not weary. If the headache would just fuck off, she'd feel even better.



"Stress has a powerful impact on the body."



"I'm not stressed."



"I would be in your shoes," said Martina, who was beside Jolene with her legs curled under her. "You've been surrounded by danger since Knox walked into your life."



"You blame him?"



"Not at all," said Martina. "He's not at fault for the actions of others. You know better than to think I'd judge him like that."



Smiling, Harper teased, "You mean because you, the wondrous firestarter, isn't in a position to judge anyone for anything?"



Martina grinned. "Maybe."



"Did you find out anything that may help us work out who hired the hunters?" asked Tanner, who was sprawled on the recliner. 



"No, none of the people we know who work on the black market seem to have any idea of who it could be," said Jolene. "But you can be sure that no others will come for you, Harper. The word has been spread among the black market that you survived the attack and that Knox killed both hunters."



Many imps obtained and sold things on the black market, so her family had some contacts there. The imps didn't sell people or wings or anything like that, but they sold rare objects and antiques. Mostly, they sold information. Imps were great at acquiring information.



"Where is Knox anyway?" asked Jolene.



"On his way back from paying Dion Boughton a visit," said Harper. She'd already told Jolene about his meeting with Francisco and that Knox had written to Dion. "He received a letter from Dion yesterday with an invite to his island."



Martina picked up her cup of coffee. "Dion's the one with the museum inside his home, right?"



"That's right. He likes to collect the unique – objects, people, animals."



"You're unique in many ways," said Martina. "That makes him a likely suspect."



"And a convenient person to pin the blame on," Jolene pointed out.



Martina nodded. "That too." She looked about to say something else, but then the front door burst open and a group of kids entered.



"Hi, Grams!" they shouted in unison. They ran down the hallway and into the kitchen. Moments later, they were dashing back down the hallway with cookies in hand, shouting, "Bye, Grams!"



Martina chuckled at their antics and then turned back to Harper, smile fading. "I heard that Carla caused a fuss at the coffeehouse."



Harper shrugged, going for blasé. "Doesn't matter. She'll be gone soon."



"It does fucking matter," insisted Tanner. "The sooner she leaves, the better."