He pocketed his phone. “Hello, beautiful.”
It just stared at him, tail twitching.
“She thinks you’re going to try to hurt me. But you won’t, will you? Because you know I’ll kill for her.”
His hound wanted the freedom to officially meet the feline, but Tanner held tight to his control. He didn’t trust that the two demons wouldn’t end up fighting. The feline trusted him to have Devon’s back, but that didn’t mean it trusted his hound as well, despite the mark on her palm.
“You gonna let me pet you?”
An image flashed in his mind of Tanner’s hand giving its flank a single stroke. “Once,” he understood. “All right.” It was better than he’d hoped for. He slowly leaned forward and gently stroked its flank; the fur was softer than he’d expected. Silky soft, and roasting hot … like the feline had a fever. But he knew it was normal for hellcats.
He straightened. “Thank you. Can I have Devon back now?”
It chuffed at him, but then fog burst into the air yet again. Moments later, Devon was lying on the floor in front of him. All the scorch marks from the demon’s paws had disappeared. That was the thing about hellcats—they left no trace of themselves behind.
He settled down beside her and splayed a hand on her stomach. “Your feline was very well behaved.”
“It didn’t even scratch you,” she said, sounding somewhat perplexed.
“I told you, it trusts me.”
She shook her head. “It doesn’t trust anyone.”
“It trusts me with your safety.” He brushed his mouth over hers. “And so do you, don’t you?”
She swallowed. “Yes.”
He felt his mouth curve. “Good.”
Standing in the living room of Harper and Knox’s stately home, Devon chuckled as Asher dove into yet another gift bag and ripped out the tissue paper. The guests—most of whom were Wallis imps—were scattered around the large, luxurious room, smiling and snapping photos as the little guy opened his birthday gifts.
Each time he tore through wrapping paper, he gave himself a huge clap, grinning when everyone clapped along with him. Only then did he pay a hint of attention to whatever the gift was. And Harper was right in what she’d predicted; if it lit up or made noise, Asher liked it.
“That kid is too cute,” said Khloë.
She wasn’t wrong. Just looking at him made Devon’s heart melt. Those deep-set ebony eyes danced with mischief and were framed by long, thick lashes. His short, wispy, inky-black hair was as silky-smooth as it looked. And his dimples … oh God, those dimples were just adorable. One little smile from him and people were just a goner.
“I can’t believe he’s already a year old,” said Devon. As demonic babies developed faster than human babies, Asher looked more like an eighteen-month-old. He was also steadier, stronger, and more verbal than human kids of his age.
“I know.” Raini sighed. “It doesn’t feel like long ago that I held him for the first time.” She tilted her head. “You know, although he looks uncannily like Knox, he often reminds me of Harper.”
Devon nodded. “He has a lot of her mannerisms.” And when he tiredly rubbed at his little eyes or made that little sob that broke her heart, he also sometimes made her think of another little boy. A boy who’d cried and cried and cried while she’d banged on the car window and—
Not now. No, she wouldn’t let the memories creep up on her on Asher’s birthday.
Sipping her soda, Devon let her gaze sweep around the spacious room. In terms of decorations, Harper had gone all out. There were banners, balloons, streamers, garlands, fairy lights, and fun props everywhere, making the room look like a kid’s wonderland.
The colorful, three-tiered birthday cake situated under the balloon-arch was like something out of a Willy Wonka factory with its swirly frosting, sprinkles, chocolate ribbons, icing decorations, jelly beans, and edible toppers. Yeah, Devon needed a slice of that in her life.
Across the room, Knox’s expression darkened with frustration as something caught his attention. She tracked his gaze and … oh. She clamped her lips closed, fighting a smile, as she took in the new arrival. Clothed in a worn Harley tee, faded jeans, frayed baseball cap, and shabby sneakers, the Devil clapped along with little Asher as the kid applauded himself yet again. The mercurial, antisocial, entitled male totally dug the little boy.
Knox crossed to Lucifer, who beamed and said, “I came to wish my nephew happy birthday.”
“Don’t call him that. We’ve been over—” Knox broke off and stared hard into the guy’s eyes. Then he sighed. “Lou, you can’t come to a kid’s party stoned. You can’t come to my house to see my son stoned. We talked about this, remember.”
“I remember. Sort of.” Lou’s brow pinched. “The memory of the conversation’s a little hazy.”
“Probably because you were stoned when we had it.”
“It’s a likely scenario.” Lou raised his hands. “Fine. No more booting the gong before I come to see Asher. I’ll wait until afterward. Happy?”
“Yes.” Knox inclined his head. “Thank you.”
Smiling to herself, Devon turned back to the girls. Her brow furrowed as she noticed them staring at the four sentinels, who looked deep in discussion about something.
“What do you think they keep having secret talks about?” Khloë asked. “It’s like every time I turn around, they’re huddled together and whispering.”
Devon shrugged. “It’ll be lair business of some kind.”
“Well, I know that much,” said Khloë. “But would it kill them to turn the volume up so we can eavesdrop a little?”
“I asked Harper about it,” Raini told them. “She said something big happened that’s related to the children’s home that Knox and the sentinels grew up in.”
“Really?” Khloë might have said more, but then Keenan looked her way. She gave a haughty sniff and then cut her gaze back to Devon and Raini. “Anyway, let’s talk about something interesting.”
“Personally,” began Raini, “I find it interesting that the incubus is now heading your way, frowning at the glass in your hand.”
Moments later, Keenan sidled up to Khloë. “Should you really be having shots?”
The imp lifted a brow. “This pearl of judgementalism is coming from an alcoholic? Really?”
His mouth thinned. “I’m not an alcoholic. And I’m being serious about this. The last time you had shots at a party, you were contemplating the wisdom of positioning a party horn at the tip of your ass hole to see if you had enough, and I quote, ‘fart fire-power’ to make it go off. I managed to talk you down, but it took some serious effort on my part.”
Khloë patted his arm. “I was just fucking with you, Keenan. As if I’d honestly put a party horn in my ass!” She angled her body away from him just enough to subtly look at Devon and mouth, “Did I really talk of doing that?”
Lips twitching, Devon nodded.
“Whoa,” Khloë mouthed.
“Just lay off the shots this one time,” Keenan told her. “In fact, give me the glass. I’ll go get you a soda or something.”