“I need to call—”
“Nobody,” he finished. “Most of the people who are worried about you are gathered in my living room. And they won’t go until they’ve spoken with you and are satisfied that you’re okay.”
If she hadn’t been so surprised by his statement, she’d have laughed at the put-out look on his face. “What people?”
“Jolene, your parents, Harper, Khloë, Raini, Ciaran—the list goes on. Are you up to seeing them?”
She frowned at her torn sweater. “If you’ll lend me a shirt.”
He crossed to the built-in wardrobe and opened one of the mirrored doors. Hangers clanged together as he pulled out a crisp white shirt. He gently lay it on the mattress, putting it within her reach. “It’ll be a bit big on you.”
Tanner watched her throat work as she swallowed her coffee, and that sent all sorts of X-rated thoughts racing through his brain. She couldn’t know it, but he’d lay in bed with her for a while, watching her sleep; wishing she’d wake, even though he’d known it was better for her to get her rest. Then people had started to arrive, and he’d had to leave her alone.
He’d checked on her several times but always found her sound asleep. It had been a relief to walk in and see her up and awake.
His hound didn’t like that she looked so fragile; knew she was far from it. The demon had begun to see just how much it had underestimated her strength in the past. Bloodthirsty, it respected the dark power she wielded; respected how hard and mercilessly she’d fought earlier.
“Hey, did Jolene pay Lockwood a visit without us?” she asked.
“She went to the office after she heard someone tried to take you again. Her mood was so foul I think she would have killed him for sport. But he wasn’t there, and it didn’t look as if he’d been there in days. Ciaran went to the guy’s apartment and found that a lot of Lockwood’s shit is gone. Looks like he packed up his essentials and took off.”
Devon hummed. “Guilty conscience?”
“If you mean, do I think he did in fact broker the deal made for you? Then, yes, I think he’s guilty of that. I’m not so sure he feels guilty about it, though. I think he panicked when the first kidnapping failed. I think he was scared we’d trace it back to him and so he fled as a precaution.” Tanner shrugged. “Someone will find him.”
Devon felt her brow wrinkle. “You’re not planning to track him yourself?”
“And leave you? No.” He loomed over her, his golden eyes smoldering with something hot and intense that made her itch to take a step back and yet also made her want to move closer. “I wasn’t sure I’d get to you in time earlier. You gave me a scare, kitten. Don’t do it again.” And then he was gone.
Blinking at the door he’d closed behind him, Devon cursed herself for being disappointed that he hadn’t kissed her. She was her own worst enemy.
Ready to face the world, she clumsily exchanged her torn sweater for his shirt, drained her mug, slipped on her shoes, and then left the room. Arms hanging limply at her sides, she followed the sound of voices, passing an extra bedroom, the master bathroom, a workout room, and an office/library. Everything in sight was top-of-the-line. Damn, the place was awesome.
It was also kept meticulously clean.
Paintings and mirrors adorned the walls, but there were no photographs, just as there were no knick-knacks in sight. Either he wasn’t a particularly sentimental person, or he was too private to put the objects on display.
There were also no antiques that she could see, which surprised her, considering how many years he’d been alive—she would have thought he’d have kept some of his possessions over the years, inadvertently building a collection of antiques. Apparently, Tanner preferred the contemporary look. Or maybe he just kept his apartment so modern and moved with the times because he felt it helped him blend better.
Surrounded by so much opulence, style, and elegance, she should have felt somewhat shabby and self-conscious. Honestly, she was too tired to fret about it.
Walking into the living area, Devon felt her brows lift. God, he hadn’t been kidding when he said there was a bunch of people here. In addition to those he’d already mentioned, there was Martina, Beck, Knox, Richie, Levi, Larkin, and Keenan.
All eyes flicked Devon’s way, and their conversations halted. Then the room pretty much descended on her. She smiled as they told her how glad they were that she was okay, blah, blah, blah. But there were only so many hugs, cheek-kisses, and back-pats she could deal with before she found herself snarling. “Apparently, we’ve forgotten that I don’t like being crowded.”
Harper snorted. “Dork.”
Gertie rested a hand on Devon’s back. “How about some tea?”
“No, thanks, Mom,” she replied. “I just had coffee.”
Adam scrubbed a hand down his face. “Shit, Devon, I can’t deal with any more of this you-almost-getting-taken crap.” His gaze slid to Tanner. “Looks like your mark wasn’t enough to deter people from going after her. Nor was the sight of her four guards.”
“There’ll always be people who’ll do stupid things for money,” said Tanner.
Martina sidled closer to her. “How’s your demon, sweetie?”
“It’s sulking because it didn’t get a chance to join in on the fun,” Devon replied.
Richie rolled his eyes. “Typical.”
“Yeah,” Devon agreed. Too tired to stand, she sank so deeply into the sofa that her body practically conformed to its shape. The spacious room was just as luxurious as the bedroom with its lush three-piece leather suite, heavy drapes, super-wide TV, and solid oak furnishings.
“Damn, you look ready to drop,” said Harper. “You can crash in one of my spare bedrooms when we get back to my place.”
Devon could only stare at the sphinx. “Huh?”
“You’re staying with me and Knox until all this has blown over,” Harper told her in a tone that said obviously.
Panic tightened Devon’s throat at the mere idea of leading her shit to her friend’s doorstep. “You know I can’t stay with you, Harper.”
“You can and you will.”
Adam cut in, “You’re better off staying with me and Hunter.”
Oh, hell no, Devon wasn’t risking them either. “I’m going home.”
Harper’s face scrunched up. “Surely that’s the last place you’d want to be right now.”
Devon frowned. “Why? It’s my home.”
Harper’s eyes flicked to Tanner. “You didn’t tell her?”
He poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue. “Forgot to mention it.”
“Mention what?” Uneasy, Devon straightened in her seat. “What don’t I know?”
Everyone looked at Raini, who bit her lower lip and said, “God, I hate being the bearer of bad news.” She tucked a blonde strand of hair behind her ear. “Harper said you’d be staying with her for a few days, so I went to your place to pack you a bag and … well, someone had ransacked the apartment.”
Devon blinked. “Ransacked it?”
“Well, not all of it,” said Raini. “The destruction was confined to the living room. I’m talking an unreasonable amount of destruction. Ribbons of the shredded curtains were scattered all over the room. The TV was smashed to shit. I don’t know what the intruder used to go to work on your sofa, but it was in three pieces, and the stuffing from the upholstery was everywhere. All your pictures were pulled down from the walls. The coffee table … it almost looked like someone had karate-chopped it. I don’t know what they took with them when they left, though. I’m so sorry, Dev.”