so focused on the physical qualities he possessed, she’d have noticed that Tanner wasn’t what anyone would call father-material. He’d been just a toddler when he was placed in Ramsbrook House. He didn’t remember his own father, and he’d never had anything even close to a father figure while growing up. He didn’t know the first thing about parenting.
Despite that he was a sentinel, he wouldn’t make much of a role model. Ramsbrook hadn’t been a stable environment to grow up in. The staff hadn’t been cruel or abusive, but they’d been incredibly strict in an almost military fashion. They hadn’t been warm or affectionate. Hadn’t given out hugs or comforting words. Hadn’t tolerated any rule-breaking, no matter how small the rule happened to be.
You didn’t bother crying, because you knew nobody would come. You didn’t bother reporting your problems to the staff, because they’d trivialize or outright dismiss those problems. You didn’t dare show any attachment to an object or person for fear that that would be used against you during punishments.
His experiences there had shaped him into a person who even he could admit was riddled with issues. A person who was uncommunicative, volatile, highly private, and disliked relying on people. Someone who was very protective of his possessions, found it difficult to share, and who found it even harder to trust or take people at their word.
He also didn’t easily connect with people, just as his hound didn’t easily form attachments to places, things, or people. The only people that he and his hound had ever let close were Knox and the sentinels—their shared experiences had bonded them in a way that nobody outside of Ramsbrook could possibly begin to understand.
So, given how fucking messed up Tanner was, he honestly didn’t trust that he or his hound would be able to truly form an attachment to their own child. And they had no business fathering one until they were sure that wasn’t the case.
*
“I still can’t believe you let him mark you,” said Raini later that day.
Tightening her grip on the brush handle, Devon turned to her. The succubus was staring out of the window at Tanner, who was talking with Enzo and Lex. He’d obviously come to escort Harper home, just as he normally did near closing time.
Plenty of people had spotted the mark on Devon’s palm throughout the day. Some had merely raised their eyebrows. Others had made passing comments like, “A hellhound marked a hellcat—well that’s new.” News of it would no doubt circulate through the Underground like wildfire, just as news of her kidnapping had.
Devon sighed. “I told you, Raini, it wasn’t that I let him do it. I didn’t think it would work for obvious reasons.”
“But it did work,” Khloë pointed out, wiping down the reception desk. “And if it will make a difference while there’s someone out there who wants to get his hands on you, I’m good with it. Besides, the mark’s kind of cute.”
“Cute but pointless if his demon isn’t completely invested in protecting Devon,” said Raini, “and it damn well better be. Tonight, you’re going into Maddox Quentin’s club, which will be full of his people. If they all converged on you, you’d be on Shit Street.”
“I still think Grams should take me along, but she’s being stubborn,” said Harper, tidying her station.
“She’s being smart,” Raini corrected. “She has no choice but to deal with this her—”
“I know, I know.” Harper sighed. “I accept that, but I don’t like it. You can’t make me.”
The bell jingled as the door swung open. Tanner prowled inside, muscles bunching and rippling in a way that almost made Devon shiver in delight. But then he gave her that taunting grin that pricked at her patience.
“Hey kitty cat,” he said in that deep, gritty voice. “Have you missed me?”
Devon gave him a mockingly bright smile. “Of course I have. What’s your name again?”
The corner of his erotic mouth hitched up. “You don’t have to be embarrassed that you’re so obsessed with me—these things happen.”
She ground her teeth, tempted to swipe out with the brush and knock him off his feet. “If I could just Photoshop your personality, I’d be a much happier woman.”
Chuckling, he slid his gaze to Harper. “You ready?”
“Almost,” the sphinx replied. “We can give Devon a ride home, right? Her car is still out of commission.”
He nodded, turning back to Devon. “I’m always here for you when you need a ride, kitten.”
She almost blushed at the sexual innuendo. “My, my,