Page 64 of The Devil and His Goddess

I couldn’t think straight. If Ihadbeen clear-headed, I would’ve had enough sense to make sure Drake was dead and unable to sneak away while I was focused on Harper. It didn’t matter in the long run. It was only a matter of time before I caught him and made him pay.

Harper went around the house, making sure every exterior door and window was locked, despite my reassurances that they were. With her own investigation done, she started up the stairs with me on her heels. She locked her bedroom door once we were inside, and while I wanted to dismiss her extreme caution with me around, I understood. She’d just had a man—one she thought she knew—break into her home. It didn’t matter that she had a demon here for protection. Every little shield against that fresh threat mattered.

When she faced me, her head tilted up as she placed her hands on her slender hips. “I have more questions.”

Chuckling at how interrogatory this felt, I held up my hands in mock surrender. “It wasn’t me, Officer. I swear.”

“Funny,” Harper said blandly as her eyes narrowed. “First question. Areallof the members of Sinners Do It Better demons?”

She moved to sit at the head of her bed and leaned against the headboard while pulling a pillow into her lap. I perched on the side of her mattress and faced her.

“They are,” I answered honestly. Pursing my lips, I asked my own question. “Is that when you found out? When you saw the band poster downtown?”

“Yeah. I wouldn’t have given much merit to the thought, but when I saw the mask … the coincidence was too much for me to ignore. I still wasn’t certain that night, but the more I thought about it this week, the more I became convinced it was you.”

I sighed and looked up at the ceiling. I’d chosen to use Coldin’s mask out of pure laziness. It was readily available to me, already fitted for horns, and wouldn’t be familiar to Harper, given that she wasn’t a fan. With my belief that she wouldn’t care enough about me to go searching for photos, I didn’t worry about her discovering who I was.

My mistake.

My tongue itched to ask her what her initial reaction was when she realized it was me. Was it an immediate feeling of betrayal, or was shehappyto learn it had been me all along? I kept myself from begging the question. I shouldn’t care. Ididn’tcare. Even if the voice in the back of my head called me a liar.

“So you’re an Incubus?” Harper asked slowly.

I nodded.

“What kind of powers do you have?”

I smirked. “You’ve seen a couple of them.”

Her cheeks turned a nice little pink color, and she forced a cough into her fist. “Right. So you can control shadows and stuff?”

“And stuff,” I repeated, unable to keep my cheeky grin hidden.

If she asked for specifics, I’d answer her honestly without hesitation, but there was no fun in freely divulging the answers.

Her blue eyes pinched slightly at the corners as she looked me over. “I can’t believe it was really you all those times.” Those same eyes suddenly widened, and she stammered, “Y-You took a photo of me when …”

I immediately knew the instance she was referring to, and with a snicker, I pulled my phone out to show her the screensaver. “You mean this?”

Harper’s cheeks and ears flamed the same shade of red as the pajama shirt that was shoved up in the photo. I still loved opening my phone to find her forever frozen in time, bound by my shadows, covered in cum, and fighting against the dildo.

She tried to snatch the phone, but I quickly pulled it out of reach with a chuckle. “Not happening. It’s mine. Who knows? I might even get it framed to hang over my fireplace.”

She huffed and leaned back with a glare trained on my face. “I want to say you wouldn’t dare, but I know you absolutely would.”

“You know me so well.”

She pursed her lips and studied me before adding, “You’ve always been an asshole. Like that night you turned me on then just left during the party.”

My mouth dropped. “Me? You’re the little tormentor who taunted me first. I was merely returning the favor.”

In all actuality, that night had been torture. Watching her dance on another man but doing itforme. Seeing her lead him to her room and knowing the gift she’d be giving him. I’d only meant to watch and make her squirm with my presence, but when she’d let out that soft plea, it was like my body was no longer my own.

I was her puppet, happily following the strings on which she tugged. I’d kissed her without thinking, and as the night went on, something inside of me responded strongly to her, yearning for each and every pull she gave on my strings.

Clearing the uncharacteristic thoughts from my head, I waited and hoped that she’d redirect the conversation to safer topics.

Thankfully, she did.

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