“Both.”
Her glare almost made Knox smile. “Why do you look so offended by me asking you questions?”
Harper’s brow furrowed. “Why are you even asking me questions? I know you did your research on me.”
“I did,” he admitted unrepentantly. “I learned a lot about you. For instance, I learned that you’re responsible for the breakdown of an ex-boyfriend’s bank account—”
“Allegedly.”
“—that you hacked a human police database and messed up their filing system when your friend was unjustly arrested—”
“Hearsay.”
“—that you beat up a male demon who hurt your cousin—”
“I have an alibi for that.”
“—and that you infected an old teacher’s computer with a virus that caused clips of gay porn to pop up on his screen every thirty seconds.”
“Closet gays do the strangest things when the pressure gets too much.” As his mouth curved into a shadow of a smile, the lust pooling in her stomach seemed to thicken. His dark, direct stare probably should have unnerved her but – for some inexplicable reason – having his entire focus on her was a turn-on. She got the feeling that when Knox Thorne was interested in something or someone, it or they had his total and unbridled attention.
Just then, the server returned with their wine. Tasting it, Harper raised her eyebrows. “This is actually pretty good.”
Once he was alone with Harper again, Knox said, “Personally, I think your methods of revenge are very creative.” Demons always got even, one way or another. “I learned something else about you.” He was wondering how best to phrase his question, not wanting to seem insensitive, when she spoke.
“It’s true that I don’t have wings.”
He’d heard whispers of a sphinx without wings, but it hadn’t occurred to him that it was Harper. “You’ve never had them?”
Veiling her hurt, she replied, “No.”
“Do you have the marks?”
“Yes.” They looked like tattoos of wings on her back. They should become real wings at her command. But they’d never come. “Before you ask, it’s also true that I can’t throw orbs of hellfire. I can, however, do this.” She infused her fork with hellfire.
“I noticed you do it during your duel with Mona. In many ways, it makes you stronger than demons who can throw hellfire orbs. You can make anything into a weapon.” She was a walking, talking surprise to him. “Now, back to my question about your mother...”
“It’s not important.”
“Carla Hayden’s a member of my lair, and you’re my anchor, which means this is very important to me.”
“Why aren’t you even a little hesitant about this anchor business?”
“Why would I be hesitant? The vast majority of demons look forward to finding their anchor.” It was typical that his anchor would be one of the exceptions. But if she was someone he could steamroll, Knox had to admit he wouldn’t have found her half so intriguing.
“Yeah, mostly to stop them turning rogue and to become stronger. We both agreed you don’t need me for any of that.”
“Doesn’t matter. I’ve told you before; I don’t walk away from what’s mine.”
“Oh,” she drawled. “You like possessions.”
Actually, yes, Knox did like possessions. Having been deprived of those things as a child, he refused to do so as an adult. But she didn’t need to hear that story. Nobody did. So instead, he gave her a different truth.
Leaning forward, Knox said, “Since my mind brushed against yours, every instinct I have has told me that you’re mine and I should protect you and bond with you.” Of course, he also wanted to fuck her until neither of them could walk. But that had nothing to do with her being his anchor. “You are mine. Deserting someone I’m supposed to protect isn’t something I’m prepared to do. Now, tell me about your mother.”
After a long inhale, Harper replied, “Carla wanted my father to accept her as his mate. He didn’t want to. She wasn’t happy about it.”
“He didn’t want to or his demon didn’t?” In order for their kind to have a deep relationship, to take someone as their mate, both halves of the soul needed to choose the partner.
“Neither wanted her as a mate,” replied Harper. “So Carla left me on Jolene’s doorstep when I was two months old.”
Knox felt a low rumble begin to build in his chest as anger whipped through him. “Why Jolene’s doorstep?”
“Lucian Wallis doesn’t have a doorstep. He’s a nomad.”
“And he then took care of you.”
“Not exactly. Lucian convinced Jolene to take care of me, because he didn’t know what to do with a baby. She agreed because she knew he was out of his depth, and she wanted to be sure I was okay. But she made him promise to visit me regularly.”
“Did he?”
“He turned up every six months or so, which to him was the equivalent of full-time parenting. When I was four, Jolene forced him to take me.”
“She passed you to him like a parcel?” The idea made Knox’s blood boil.
“No. She wanted her son to learn some responsibility, and she thought it was wrong that I didn’t have either of my parents playing a big part in my life. She also thought it might make him settle somewhere.”