“Yep,” Devon admitted, too tired to play dumb.
Khloë put her hands on her hips. “Okay, Clarke, I think it’s time you fessed up the rest.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Later that day, Devon stood in the newly vacated apartment that Knox had offered for her to use as a temporary base. Just as Tanner suspected, it had a similar blueprint to that of his own but didn’t include a spare bedroom. The latter didn’t bother Devon. She didn’t need a spare bedroom. Hell, she didn’t need half the space, but she had no complaints about its size. She had no complaints about it at all.
The apartment was stylish and chic. It also had a very welcoming feel with the warm paint colors, soft rugs, cozy fireplace, and maple hardwood flooring. Better still, it came partly furnished, and the kitchen had every appliance she’d need. And the bathroom was to die for.
She’d sure enjoy her temporary stay there. It would be kind of like spending a few days at a luxury condo while on a city break.
Her demon had examined the place carefully. It found the apartment aesthetically pleasing and much safer than their home, so it approved of their new temporary territory.
Having taken a full turn around the place, she rejoined Tanner in the hallway. He was leaning back against the wall, his hands stuffed in his pockets, his mouth downturned … making her think of a sulking toddler. Though he’d been glued to her side since picking her and Harper up from work, he hadn’t insisted on accompanying Devon as she wandered around the apartment—mostly because he was too busy brooding.
He raised a brow. “Well?”
Devon inhaled deeply, drinking in the scents of citrus cleaner and wood polish. “It’ll do.”
Any other time, the pooch might have snorted at her effort to downplay her excitement. Not this time.
Thanks to the whole Eleanor-turning-up-at-Urban-Ink thing, he’d already been in a foul mood when he arrived to take Devon home. It had only made him more pissed that she’d vetoed his suggestion to stay with him until Asa’s friend was found.
Snarly and surly, he’d claimed it made sense for her to stay at his place as they’d be sharing a bed every night anyway. She’d quite rightly pointed out that their demons could protest to their fling at any given moment, so it would be better for her to have a separate living space. He hadn’t been able to argue that—hence the brooding.
“Larkin telepathed me while you were looking around,” said Tanner. “She was able to identify the men who were involved in the attempt to kidnap you.” He rattled off a bunch of names. “Recognize any of them?”
“Other than when the driver mentioned a guy called Mike and referred to Slade by his name—who in turn called the driver Len—I’d never heard of them before.” Devon slanted her head. “What lair do they belong to?”
“They’re strays.” He let his gaze wander around. “It makes more sense for you to stay with me.”
And here they were again. “You’re not getting bored of this conversation? Not even a little?” Devon sighed. “Look, I agreed to stay at your building, let that be enough.”
Tanner pushed away from the wall and crossed to her. When it came to this female, “enough” was something he never seemed to get. He wanted everything from her, even as he knew he wouldn’t get to enjoy it for long. He curled an arm around her waist and drew her to him. “Is it really such a bad thing that I want you close?”
She rolled her eyes. “Stop being a spoiled brat, Tanner. You can’t always have your way. I’m on the floor above you—that’s a damn fine concession and you know it. Learn to love it, because it’s the best you’re gonna get.”
As amused as he was frustrated, he snapped his teeth at her. His demon wasn’t quite so annoyed with her for sticking to her guns; it respected how ballsy and independent she was. It would still rather that she was staying at their domain, though. “Things would be a lot simpler if you just did what I said at all times.”
She snickered. “Like that would ever happen. And if it did, you’d be bored.”
He had to concede—if only to himself—that she had that right. Pulling her closer, he nuzzled her neck. “I thought about you a lot today.”
“Did you?”
“Hmm.” He kissed the hollow beneath her ear. “It’s not a good thing. I’m supposed to be focused. You keep creeping into my thoughts and distracting me.”
Devon huffed at his accusatory tone. “I don’t see how that’s my fault.”
“I didn’t say it was your fault. I’m just blaming you.” He nipped her lip. “I wouldn’t be so distracted by worry for you if you were staying with me.”
“Not dropping this, huh?” She gave him a raised brow and fuck if it didn’t go straight to his cock. “Listen here, pooch, I won’t be guilted into doing something I don’t want to do. I agreed to temporarily live here because it was smart. There’d be nothing smart in staying with you, considering we don’t know how long it’ll be before our demons—”
“I know.” Tanner sighed, hating that he couldn’t argue her point. He’d had a sick feeling in his gut since the day she was first kidnapped, and that feeling hadn’t gone away. Wouldn’t.
He’d checked in regularly throughout the day with the demons he had stationed outside her studio. Other than Eleanor turning up, nothing untoward had happened, but he hadn’t been able to relax. Even now, when he had her right there in his arms, he couldn’t fucking relax.
It didn’t help that he was quite sure that it was Eleanor who vandalized her apartment. Tanner had paid it a short visit while Devon was at work. Some of her lair members had been there, clearing away the destroyed furniture. He hadn’t picked up Eleanor’s scent, but that meant nothing, since enough time had gone by for it to fade. He thought it significant that the one room that was ransacked was the very room in which he’d taken Devon against the wall.
He’d heard that Eleanor could pick up echoes of events by touching objects—a similar gift to Levi’s ability to pick up echoes of events at death scenes. If that were true, it was possible she’d touched something in the living room that showed her what had happened there. Eleanor would have had one hell of a damn tantrum … which was exactly what the scene of destruction had looked like to him when he’d viewed it on Ciaran’s cell phone.
The only thing that brought Tanner any comfort was the mark on Devon’s palm. As he looked down at it, he got a glimpse of his fingerprints on her wrists. And he couldn’t help but smile.
“You can stop looking so smug about the brands,” she muttered.
“I could. But I won’t.”
“Yeah, I figured you’d say that,” Devon grumbled. “They sure raised some eyebrows. All day I had to field off nosy-ass questions from clients. I need to buy some wristbands or something to cover—ow, that hurt!”
He licked over the delectable lip he’d bitten, soothing the sting. “No covering the brands. I like to look at them. I like that other people can see them. And if you try hiding them, there’s a high chance my demon will decide to just brand you again.”