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Embers

Suzanne Wright




  Suzanne Wright lives in England with her husband and two children. When she’s not spending time with her family, she’s writing, reading or doing her version of housework – sweeping the house with a look.

  She’s worked in a pharmaceutical company, at a Disney Store, at a primary school as a voluntary teaching assistant, at the RSPCA and has a First Class Honours degree in Psychology and Identity Studies.

  As to her interests, she enjoys reading, writing, reading, writing (sort of eat, sleep, write, repeat), spending time with her family, movie nights with her sisters and playing with her two Bengal kittens.

  To connect with Suzanne online:

  Website: www.suzannewright.co.uk

  Facebook: www.facebook.com/suzannewrightfanpage

  Twitter: @suz_wright

  Blog: www.suzannewrightsblog.blogspot.co.uk

  THE DARK IN YOU SERIES

  Burn

  Blaze

  Ashes

  Embers

  Copyright

  Published by Piatkus

  ISBN: 978-0-349-41630-4

  All characters and events in this publication, other than those clearly in the public domain, are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Copyright © Suzanne Wright, 2018

  The moral right of the author has been asserted.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of the publisher.

  The publisher is not responsible for websites (or their content) that are not owned by the publisher.

  Piatkus

  Little, Brown Book Group

  Carmelite House

  50 Victoria Embankment

  London EC4Y 0DZ

  www.littlebrown.co.uk

  www.hachette.co.uk

  Contents

  About the Author

  The Dark in You Series

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Acknowledgements

  For the cake-making masters at the Hummingbird Bakery. Your Cookies and Cream cupcake helped me through writer’s block—I’m not even kidding.

  CHAPTER ONE

  There was really nothing quite like having a stare-out with one of the most formidable beings in all existence. But as Harper’s mate was also exceedingly powerful and she was used to this sort of thing, she wasn’t quite as daunted as she probably should have been. “I’m not changing my mind, Lou.”

  The devil threw up his hands. “Why do you have to be so stubborn?”

  “Why do you have to be so psychotic? You know what, don’t answer that.”

  “You claim to love your son, yet you frequently expose him to one of the cruelest demons I’ve ever had the displeasure to come across.”

  Exasperated, Harper let her head fall back against the half-moon sofa. “My grandmother is not cruel. She is, however, an imp. So it baffles me that you expect her to do anything other than drive you insane. That’s kind of what imps do.”

  Lou was easy to irritate because of his OCD streak. Simple things like giving him an odd number of cookies, slicing his bread at an unsymmetrical angle, or adjusting the strings on his sleeveless hoodie so that one was longer than the other could send his blood pressure soaring—and Jolene Wallis did such things regularly.

  To look at him in a ratty-assed Black Sabbath tee, washed-out jeans, a baseball cap, and old sneakers, no one would suspect he was so particular about, well, anything.

  Despite that the mercurial male was the most antisocial being Harper had ever met, he loved spending time with her son, Asher. Then again, Lou was childlike in his own way—especially with his bratty sense of entitlement. Asher seemed to think of him as a playmate, which didn’t say a lot for Lou’s IQ really.

  Looking down at Asher, who was sitting on the blue Persian rug playing with toy bricks, Harper had to smile. Honestly, the little sphinx was the most adorable thing ever. With his deep-set ebony eyes that were like dark velvet and his coal-black wisps of silky-smooth hair, he was essentially a mini version of Knox. The only features he seemed to have inherited from Harper were her long lashes and the reflective catlike quality to her eyes.

  Demonic babies developed fast and were much stronger than human babies, so the six-month-old looked more like a ten-month-old. Asher could sit up, crawl, stand, say several words, and even walk if someone was holding his little hand.

  As a rule, demons didn’t need much sleep and could even go days without it. Thankfully, demonic babies slept as much as human babies or she’d be permanently on her feet and absolutely drained, because her boy was a handful. Obviously, as his mother, she was extremely biased and considered him to be the most perfect child that had ever graced the Earth. But he truly was bright and loveable. He had so many people wrapped around his little finger, it wasn’t even funny. Seriously, one dimply smile and you were done for. He could win over anyone—even the devil himself.

  “Come on, Harper,” Lou whined, flinging himself on the sofa opposite hers. “Exposing the poor kid to Jolene borders on child abuse. Am I right, Tanner?” Lou asked her bodyguard, who was sprawled on the rug in his hellhound-form.

  Large and fierce, the hound was heavily muscled with thick black fur. Not even the blood-red eyes or scent of burning brimstone could ruin its inherent majestic air. In response to Lou’s question, it merely chuffed out an impatient breath.

  “She’s Asher’s great-grandmother, Lou,” said Harper. “She loves him, and he adores her right back.”

  Lou snorted. “Oh, please. Nobody ‘adores’ Jolene Wallis. Asher laughs at her, not with her.”

  Harper’s inner demon rolled its eyes. The entity that lived within each demon was, to put it bluntly, a pitiless and somewhat psychopathic predator that possessed zero patience.

  Rubbing her temple, Harper telepathically reached out to Knox and said, Wish you were here.

  As Knox’s mind brushed against hers, his psychic “taste” flooded her brain—almonds, red wine, and dark chocolate. What’s wrong, baby? he asked in that rumbly, velvety voice that danced over her skin, making it prickle in sexual awareness.

  One word—Lou. The vibe of male amusement that touched her mind wasn’t unexpected. How’s the meeting going?

  So far, productive.

  Roughly translated, he was getting his own way with his human associates. Knox blended in effortlessly with humans, hiding in plain sight just like the rest of their kind. The billionaire also owned a chain of restaurants, hotels, casinos, bars, and security firms.

  Demons often held high positions that provided them with the power and control that they instinctively craved. CEOs, politicians, bankers, celebrities, lawyers, surgeons, journalists, police officers—the list went on.

  Looks like the meeting will run late, he added, so I’ll have to meet you at Jolene’s house in a few hours.

  You don’t need to come; it’s not like it’s anyone’s birthday. Imps didn’t need an excuse to throw a party.

  Nonetheless, I’ll be there. On another note, how’s your ass?

  She almost flushed at the memory of him spank
ing it earlier as he’d fucked her from behind. A little tingly. Sensing his smugness, she felt her lips thin. You shouldn’t like the idea.

  I’m just remembering what a pretty shade of pink your ass turned.

  To describe Knox as “highly sexual” would be an understatement. Dominant and demanding with psychic hands that could deliver phenomenal orgasms, he was a total rock star in the bedroom. He was also as sensually lethal as he was physically lethal.

  “You go to the party,” said Lou. “I’ll babysit Asher.”

  Harper held up her finger. “Okay, first of all, you will never babysit Asher; we’ve gone over this before—”

  “How can you not trust me with him?”

  “Was that a trick question?”

  “It’s not like I’m stoned today or—” He jerked as flames engulfed his cap, which then abruptly disappeared. A millisecond later, fire erupted out of Asher’s hand … and there was Lou’s cap, completely intact.

  Giggling, Asher dropped the hat and clapped his little hands as his mind touched hers, buzzing with mischief and pride. His giggle was the purest, infectious, heart-melting sound, and she couldn’t help but laugh along with him.

  Although she’d yet to see him pyroport like Knox, she’d often seen objects pyroport to Asher—mostly her knickknacks that lined the mantel of the fireplace. Since he was so young, the ability didn’t always “answer” him. Plenty of times she’d seen him glaring at his hand, as if annoyed that it was empty.

  Lou grinned at him. “Such a clever boy! Ah, did it bug you that I wasn’t paying you any attention? You know your Uncle Lou is your biggest fan.” Standing, Lou crossed to him. “Time to hand over the cap.”

  A shower of ashes, embers, and sparks surrounded Asher—a tough-as-shit shield he’d first raised when in her womb. He’d also released a blast of disabling energy whilst in her womb, but he hadn’t done it again since being born.

  Lou laughed. “Damn, Harper, I totally dig this kid.” With a mock sigh of reprimand at Asher, he placed his hands on his hips. “Don’t you smirk at me. I want that cap.”

  Inside the shield, Asher instead dumped a brick in the cap.

  “It’s not a toy, mister.”

  But Asher apparently thought differently, because he plopped another brick in it.

  Lou tried pushing his hand through the shield. Sparks buzzed, hissed, and popped. Lou jerked back with a harsh curse, blowing on his blistered palm.

  “Why do you do that every time?” Harper asked him, sighing. “You know you can’t get through the shield.” The only person she’d seen do it was Knox’s demon when it was in its full, body-of-flames glory. There were far worse things in hell than Lucifer, including archdemons—cold and brutal creatures that were born from the flames. And, unknown to most, Knox just happened to be one.

  “I’m trying to work out what it’s made of,” said Lou. “It’s hard as steel and burns worse than hellfire. I’ve never come across anything like it.” And that seemed to excite him.

  “I thought you’d lose your fascination with Asher once you saw that he isn’t some soulless being that was born with the sole purpose of obliterating the universe.”

  “I never thought he’d be soulless.”

  “Pure evil, then.”

  “He may not be evil, but he could still decimate life as you know it. Don’t give me that look, is it my fault you can’t handle the truth? I think not.” Lou grimaced as his cap returned to his head in a small spurt of fire … which wouldn’t have hurt him if the cap wasn’t bulging with bricks. Lou emptied them onto the rug. “He might be a Thorne, but there’s a lot of Wallis in him.”

  Lowering his shield, Asher clapped again. “Ma!”

  Harper smiled. “I saw you, little man. Very good.” He didn’t call her Mama, as if too lazy to finish the word. Similarly, he called Knox “Da”.

  A familiar mind touched hers as a voice said, I’m here. You ready? It was Keenan, Asher’s personal bodyguard who, like Tanner, was also one of Knox’s sentinels.

  We’ll be two minutes, Harper told him. “Tanner, time to go. I just need to quickly pack Asher’s bag.” She headed into the kitchen to find Meg, the housekeeper, sticking a bottle of formula in Asher’s bag.

  Meg put the bag into Harper’s hands. “Diapers, formula, wet wipes, his blanket—it’s all there.”

  Honestly, Harper didn’t know what she’d do without the woman. “Thanks, Meg, you’re a star.”

  Meg flushed, pleased. “Have a good time at the party!”

  “Will do,” said Harper. Honestly, though, taking Asher off the estate always made her nervous. For the first four months of his life, they’d kept him there for his own protection. Awful as it was, there were people who would use him for their own ends. After all, anyone who had him in their possession could effectively control Knox, who’d do anything to keep his son safe. And since Knox was believed to be the most powerful demon in existence and was also rumored to have the ability to call on the flames of hell, their kind feared him in a major way.

  When Harper was heavily pregnant, a she-demon had kidnapped her with the intent of taking Asher, hence why the bitch had died an excruciating death. Nora was part of a group, the Four Horsemen, who wanted rid of Knox. They viewed him as an obstacle to their goal of causing the US Primes to fall. So far, three of the Horsemen had been eradicated, but the fourth was still out there. And no one seemed to know who it was.

  Walking back into the living area, Harper saw Tanner in his human form, gently bopping Asher’s nose with the plush hellhound he’d bought him—Asher took it everywhere, even to bed.

  Just as Tanner handed him the soft toy, Harper took Asher into her arms. “We gotta go see Grams now. Say bye to Lou.”

  Dimples flashing, Asher waved at him. “Bye.”

  “Bye, little guy.” Lou slipped on his jacket. “And good luck with Jolene. You’re going to need it.” In a blink, he was gone.

  Letting Tanner carry the bag, she followed the broad shouldered, dark-haired male along the wide hallway, through the marble foyer, and then out into the warm air.

  Keenan’s tall, defined form was leaning against Tanner’s Audi. The incubus flashed his boyish grin at Asher and said, “Hey, little mister.” Asher babbled at him, making the incubus chuckle. “You got everything you need, Harper?”

  “Yep, thanks to Meg.” Once she’d strapped Asher into his car seat, she slid into the Audi. The tires crunched as Tanner then began a slow drive along the lengthy driveway.

  At one time, Harper had been intimidated by the estate with its heavy metal gates, long manicured lawn, neatly-trimmed hedges, and the high-brick walls. Then there was the house itself. Well, “house” wasn’t the right word. Not for such an expansive, magnificent piece of custom-built architecture. It was way ahead of its time and possessed the same allure and charm as its owner.

  Before Knox, she’d lived in a dingy apartment in North Las Vegas. She’d never known this kind of luxury. Never thought she’d be able to feel that she “fit” amongst high vaulted ceilings, winding staircases, upscale furnishings, and walk-in cedar closets. But the estate had become her private little oasis.

  Riding shotgun, Keenan glanced over his shoulder. “Is Knox meeting you at Jolene’s house?”

  “Yes. I don’t think he’s disappointed that he’s running late. An afternoon with my family is never relaxing.” Wild and rowdy, Wallis imps would test even a nun’s patience, especially with their penchant for lying, stealing, and cheating, amongst many other things.

  “It’s a kids’ tea party,” said Keenan, facing forward. “How bad can it be?”

  When they pulled up outside Jolene’s house a short while later, “I Don’t Fuck With You” by Big Sean filtered out of the open windows. The front of the house was virtually covered in balloons and paper lanterns. Yard cards were strewn across the lawn—some were clocks, some were tea pots, others were playing cards. All of them surrounded a huge cardboard cutout of the Mad Hatter.

  A
s Harper carried Asher up the path and to the porch, he pointed at the decorations, oohing and awing. She rang the doorbell, rubbing her cheek against his plump, petal-soft one. His hands gently slapped her cheeks, squishing her face.

  “Ow,” she mumbled. He just giggled.

  Just then, the door swung open. Jolene Wallis didn’t look like a grandmother. Not with her chic blouse, sleek skirt, high heels, perfectly coiled hair, and veneer of sheer elegance. She also didn’t look bat-shit crazy, but she totally was.

  “Finally, you’re here.” Jolene stepped back and gestured for them to enter. “Harper, I’ve missed you.” She gave her a one-armed hug. “And where’s my little guy?” Jolene plucked Asher out of her arms. “Come to Grams. I love this little outfit you’re rocking.”

  “You should, since you bought it,” said Harper. Well, Jolene bought the jeans and checked shirt. The boots came from Raini, Harper’s friend and business partner.

  Jolene kissed his cheek. “Come see what’s in the backyard.”

  Harper and the sentinels followed her down the hallway. Passing the living room, Harper peeked inside. Male imps were crowded on the couches, chairs, and floor, drinking beer and eating chips while watching a basketball game on TV. She was pretty sure the one curled around the beer keg, clinging to the funnel, had passed out. Typical.

  She heard laughter, squealing, and the whir of an air compressor before she even stepped into the backyard, so the bouncy castle came as no surprise.

  People waved and shouted out welcomes. Some sat on lawn furniture and floor pillows while others stood around the long patio table, filling paper plates with snack foods. A bunch of female relatives swarmed Jolene to fuss over Asher, who giggled at the kids that were jumping in the bouncy castle like demented kangaroos.

  Frilly three-tiered cake stands sat on kid-sized tables among plastic teacups, saucers, and spoons. There were dozens upon dozens of cupcakes—all were covered in different colored swirly frosting topped with either edible sprinkles, pearls, glitter, flowers, or chocolate chips. Harper would nab a few when she got a chance.