He linked his fingers with hers and dug his thumb into the center of her palm. Nothing happened, just as she’d known it wouldn’t.
Devon smirked. “See? You should have listened to—” Power, hot and raw, zapped her skin and scorched it like a branding iron. Sting, my ass. It goddamn burned. She tried snatching her hand from his, but he held tight. That was when her inner demon charged to the surface.
Tanner tensed when Devon’s eyes bled to black and the room temperature lowered. Her demon didn’t attack, didn’t struggle, but it held razor-sharp claws to his throat in warning. He didn’t flinch, didn’t pull back. “She’s safe with me,” he told it, knowing it would fully understand every word. “I’d never hurt her. You can sense that, or you would have slit my throat instantly.”
It narrowed its eyes and pressed its claws closer to his flesh—it wanted him to let Devon go, and this was apparently his final warning.
“People could come for her,” he said. “We both want her safe, so let’s call a truce and work together to make that happen.”
An image flashed in his mind—an image of Devon kicking the ass of a faceless foe, her eyes totally black. Tanner nodded at the wordless telepathic message. “Yes, I know she has you. I know you can protect her. But being powerful isn’t always enough. I just want her to have my help in case she does need it.”
The demon didn’t react, didn’t pull back its claws. Just stared at him.
Tanner felt his jaw tighten. “You might not like or trust my kind, but you do trust that I’d never harm her.” Still no reaction. And he sensed that only the truth would get him what he wanted. “She’s important to me. Let me help you keep her safe.”
Long moments of silence ticked by, winding him tight. Then the feline lost some of its tension and slowly retracted its claws. It gave a slow nod, and another image flashed in his mind—one of him and the hellcat standing side by side while Devon stood behind them. Understanding the feline was agreeing that they could work together to protect her, he inclined his head.
The demon then subsided, and piercing green eyes met his. Devon, seeming somewhat stunned, looked down at her palm. There, as if they’d been stamped onto her skin, were three, black, very small tribal-like lines set into a thin circle. The same mark was featured on the gates of hell—the brand of a hellhound.
Satisfaction settled over Tanner. He took an easy breath for what felt like the first time in days. She was marked now. Was officially under his protection. Wore his scent on her skin. He’d feel it if she was ever in danger. All that gratified him on a very primal level. He couldn’t have her for himself, but he could ensure she was safe.
“There, done,” he said. “Does it hurt?”
Shocked to the bone, Devon closed her hand. “It’s fine.” Proud that her voice came out strong and steady, she gave herself a mental pat on the back. “How the … I don’t understand.”
“I told you, my hound considers you under its protection.”
Devon would never have believed that. Never. But the proof was right there on her palm.
Totally thrown, she raked her hand through her hair. Surely her feline should be raging that a hellhound had marked Devon. Surely it should be hissing, snarling, and raring to strike out at him. It wasn’t. It also wasn’t convinced that his help was needed or that he wouldn’t withdraw his protection at some point, but it saw him as a valuable ally. It intended to use him for as long as he was available. Cold, sure, but that was how the entity operated.
Devon suspected her demon would work with anyone if it would keep her safe. Why? Because it had never forgotten how utterly helpless it had felt while unable to free six-year-old Devon from the magickly warded car. Had never forgotten how close she’d come to dying right along with the infant in the car seat.
It wasn’t that the entity was haunted by regret or guilt—it couldn’t feel such emotions. But it resented that it had been unable to protect Devon. Was embittered by the powerlessness and sense of failure it had felt. The demon didn’t intend to experience such things ever again. And if working alongside a hellhound would help ensure that, the feline would do it.
Devon, however, wasn’t so at ease with the