Hunted

“We’re in a relationship?” he asked, no inflection in his tone.

She lifted her chin. “Yes.”

“A real one?”

“Yes. Oh, and everyone knows.” She figured it would be best to throw that out there.

“Everyone?”

She felt her nose wrinkle. “Well, I’m not sure about your clan, but the others in our circle know. I thought you’d cotton on to it eventually, but you just didn’t.”

“So this is why Khloë keeps laughing at me?”

“Probably. You never can tell with Khloë.”

Seconds of excruciating silence ticked by. “How long, exactly, have we been in a relationship?”

“Officially? Since the night before we first babysat Asher together.”

His brows flicked up. “That long?”

“Yes

Most of her wardrobe. “Right, look, here’s how it is. I don’t intend to live in a separate place from my mate. Which is what you are. My mate. And not a fake one. Our relationship—yes, we have a relationship; we’ve been in one for months now—is nothing close to shallow. It’s serious, and it’s permanent. Deal with it.”

He didn’t react. Didn’t tense. Didn’t speak. Didn’t blink. Nothing

“She’s an assassin in the making.” He looked at Levi. “Back me up on this.”

The reaper sighed. “You’re overreacting.”

“You hold her, then.”

“Fuck, no

“Let it go, Keenan,” Khloë groused.

The incubus sniffed. “I don’t want to.”

“Here,” Devon interjected, holding out her daughter, “make yourself useful and hold Anaïs instead of bothering people.”

Keenan threw up his arms and stepped back. “No. No way. I like to breathe. For some reason, she has an issue with that and wants to put an end to it.

The entity was so firmly attached to him that, little by little, it had gravitated all its belongings to Teague’s wagon. He’d come across some of it, but not all. The demon hadn’t left them in plain sight. The stuff was stashed here and there.

He never commented. Just curiously studied the object and then put it back.

“Personally, I think he’ll react well to realizing he’s been firmly snagged by you,” said Khloë.

Larkin hissed. “Those little”—she slid Asher a quick glance—“meanies.”

“Big meanies,” Asher declared

Have you not considered just buying him a pony or something?”

“I thought about it.” Harper bit into a spring roll she’d nabbed from the buffet table. “But since he’s going through a phase of setting his toys on fire when he’s bored with them, I figured I’d better not.”

Gently bouncing her daughter on her lap, Devon grinned and said, “That’s a typical imp phase

Asher toddled over and planted his palms on the glass wall. “I wanna go down there.” He looked up at Maddox expectantly . . . as if the male would obligingly teleport him to the track. The little boy thankfully couldn’t pyroport that far away.

An arm draped around Raini’s shoulders, Maddox peered down at Asher. “Why?”

“To ride a horsey,” the boy told him.

Sighing from her spot on the chic leather seating, Harper cut in, “Kid, we’ve been over this—you can’t ride a hellhorse. They don’t let people ride them.”

She cocked her head at the MC president. “What is that ultraviolet shit you were tossing around earlier?”

“Nothing as cool as hell-ice,” replied Viper. “Nice gift you got there.”

Teague held his hand out toward the president. “Your aid was appreciated, though I think it would be safe to say it was more that you wanted an invite to the party than that you felt compelled to help us.”

His mouth quirking, Viper shook his hand. “You didn’t need our help. You only didn’t argue about us being here because you knew we’d turn up either way.”

“Why did you help tonight?” Larkin asked him. “Really?”

Viper arched a brow. “Why would we fight creatures that come crawling out of hell when they have no business doing so?” He shrugged. “Old habits die hard, I guess.”

Her brow furrowed. “They tried invading the upper realm when you guys lived up there?”

“More often than you might think.” Viper stuffed his hands in his pockets. “They probably always will, even though it never gets them very far.”

“You and your brothers keep an eye on things here in this realm now,” she guessed. “You watch out for signs that some might be around.”

“Do we?” Viper asked, airy.

She flapped an unimpressed hand at his evasiveness. “Whatever. Just remember not all hell-born who come here do so with ill-will.”

Viper held up his hands, his expression serious. “I’ll only have an issue with those who do. You don’t need to worry that I’ll come for your hellhorse.”

“If that changes and you target him, I’ll come for you.”

Viper smiled. “You know what, I like you.”

“So you should. I’m fucking amazing.”

She cocked her head at the MC president. “What is that ultraviolet shit you were tossing around earlier?”

“Nothing as cool as hell-ice,” replied Viper. “Nice gift you got there.”

Teague held his hand out toward the president. “Your aid was appreciated, though I think it would be safe to say it was more that you wanted an invite to the party than that you felt compelled to help us.”

His mouth quirking, Viper shook his hand. “You didn’t need our help. You only didn’t argue about us being here because you knew we’d turn up either way.”

“Why did you help tonight?” Larkin asked him. “Really?”

Viper arched a brow. “Why would we fight creatures that come crawling out of hell when they have no business doing so?” He shrugged. “Old habits die hard, I guess.”