“How difficult is it to use the ability?” asked Devon.
“According to Lydia, it’s a lot harder than it sounds, and it’s a huge drain on the psyche,” said Hunter. “In my opinion, utilizing it is just not worth the trouble when it will leave you feeling weak and tired. It’s not even a particularly useful ability anyway. More like a parlor trick.”
Devon tilted her head. “So it’s not like possessing someone?”
“No, because you can’t fully take control. Lydia can get people to move their limbs, but she can’t make them do anything complex like drive a car—that would require her to get a deep grip on their brain. But she can use them as a conduit. Like they’re a cell phone. And they’ll have no memory of her doing it.”
Devon blinked. “No memory at all?”
“None,” replied Hunter.
“So,” began Jolene, picking up her mug of tea. “Sheridan could have been telling the truth. If he was used as a conduit, he’d have had no recollection of any deals he might have made with Maddox.”
“But why Sheridan?” asked Adam. “Why do you think he was chosen to be the conduit?”
It was Ciaran who answered. “Maybe Asa’s little friend went to the Damned wanting to talk with Maddox and then chose a random patron to speak through. Sheridan said he was a regular at the Damned.”
“I guess that makes sense,” said Adam. “But why didn’t he—whoever he is—go back to Maddox when he wanted to hire someone to kidnap Devon?”
Leaning against the countertop, Beck pursed his lips. “Maybe he worried that Maddox would do just as he said he’d do—contact Knox with the info in exchange for a favor. Especially since he initially lied that his interest in Devon was as a potential breeding partner.”
“Whatever the case,” began Devon, “we know it was Sheridan who physically requested the dossier on me. Now we need to find out who used him to do it.”
Tanner rolled back his shoulders, wanting to shake off the restlessness that had gripped him tight. His hunting instincts were badgering at him, dissatisfied because his prey hadn’t yet been tracked. And while the identity of said prey remained a mystery, Devon wasn’t safe. That infuriated his hound.
The demon didn’t much like how Adam was fussing over her either. Tanner had always thought it petty that people could be jealous of how close their partners were to their anchors. But he could admit that it did bug him to know that Adam had innate rights to Devon; bugged Tanner that she needed another male, even if it were only on a psychic level.
He looked at Hunter. “Asa’s friend killed Sheridan after using him as a conduit. How did he do that? Is it part and parcel of that ability?”
Hunter lifted his shoulders. “If extremely powerful, someone could theoretically rupture a mind as he withdrew from it.”
“Are you still planning to speak with Lockwood, Jolene?” Ciaran asked her.
“Yes,” Jolene replied. “If he did broker the deal, it’s unlikely he can tell us anything about Asa’s friend unless said friend didn’t speak to him through a conduit … but Lockwood can certainly entertain me by dying an excruciatingly painful death for making the mistake of fucking Devon over like that.” She lifted a brow at Devon. “Will tomorrow work for you? I’m thinking we should pay him a visit at his office.”
“Sounds good to me,” said Devon. “The sooner we question him, the better. What time were you thinking?”
“Early afternoon, right after lunch. There’s something satisfying about making someone so nauseated with pain that they vomit their last meal all over themselves.”
“I had hoped that Asa’s friend would back off from you and try to find another way of manipulating Finn,” Adam said to Devon, giving her shoulder a comforting squeeze. “But if the bastard said, ‘we’ll meet soon,’ he’s obviously not done trying to get his hands on you.”
Tanner’s jaw tightened. “No one’s getting their hands on her. I’ll kill anyone who tries.”
Adam gave him a considering look. “Yeah, I think you would.” He gave a short nod. “Good.” Adam pinched Devon’s lips shut when she tried to speak. “Yes, yes, you can kill them yourself—I’m not disputing that. I just like that you have backup. Sue me.”
Giving him a mock scowl, Devon knocked his hand away. “I wasn’t going to needlessly remind you that I’m capable of protecting myself.” Okay, maybe she would have prefaced her statement with that, but whatever. “I was going to say that there are far worse things than dying, and that maybe we should make an example of anyone we discover played any part in what happened rather than killing them outright. We should make them suffer; let others know what fate will await them if they make the same mistake.”
Tanner looked at her, his mouth curved. “I like that idea.”
“Yeah, I figured you would.” His kind were as bloodthirsty as hers. Devon downed the last of her herbal tea and stood. “I need to get home.”
“You’ll be happy to know that your car is back in action,” said Jolene. “I had Richie park it in the lot outside your building earlier.”
Tanner pushed to his feet. “I’ll give you a ride, kitten.”
Her stomach plummeted at the “we need to talk” look he gave her. After the weird evening she’d had, she really wasn’t in the mood for that conversation. In fact, she wanted to just relax on the sofa with a tub of chocolate chip ice-cream and watch TV. But she didn’t fight him on taking her home, not trusting he wouldn’t say something like “You didn’t mind me giving you a different kind of ride last night” right there in front of God and everybody.
Neither of them said a word during the drive to her place. The silence was far from comfortable, since the air was static with the same sexual energy that pulsed through her body. It was an honest to God relief when he pulled up outside the building.
As they climbed the stairwell, she was keenly aware of every move he made—the bunching and flexing of his muscles, the heated glances he sent her, the way his nostrils flared as he occasionally leaned in to inhale her scent. “Stop sniffing me!”
“Stop smelling like candy.”
And what could she say to that except … “You’re an idiot.”
Once they were inside her apartment, she headed straight to the kitchen. Mostly because it was the biggest room she had, which meant she could put a good deal of space between them.
Folding her arms, Devon lifted an expectant brow. Standing a few feet away, he stared at her and … God, he was just so intent on her. Snared her with a laser-focus that made her feel as if he saw no one else.
He planted his feet. “Time’s up, kitten. I need an answer.”
Swallowing hard against the impact of the rising sexual tension that was thickening the air, she tapped her arm with her nails. “A month is too long. One more night.”
“No.” He shook his head. “Another night won’t cut it.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Yeah, I do.”
God, he was so damn stubborn. “Forty-eight hours,” she tossed out.