Keenan inclined his head. “It is hard.”
Harper was relieved that none of the sentinels were at all put-off by Asher being an Anubis. Agreeing with her that the sentinels would protect Asher best if they knew what he was, Knox had chosen to let them keep their memory of it. Harper and Knox had also decided not to tell anyone else about Asher being an Anubis—not even Jolene or the girls, who they trusted to still accept him. The fewer people who knew, the better, since most people were no fonder of his kind than they were of archdemons.
Harper’s only worry was that they couldn’t count on Asher’s demon to cloak itself at all times. Since the battle at the rainforest, the demon had occasionally dropped the cloak when Asher was at home—maybe because it trusted that its parents wouldn’t reject it. As Asher’s kind was so rare, it was unlikely that anyone would easily sense what he was even if they were exposed to his real psychic scent, so that was a little comforting.
Just then, Knox stalked into the room, fiddling with the collar of his deliberately haphazard suit. “You ready to leave, baby? You don’t want to be late for Khloë’s—what the fuck happened here?”
“I’ll tell you in the car,” said Harper, thinking it unfair that he looked just as sexy all rumpled as he did when stylishly suited.
Asher pyroported to the floor, toddled over to the rug, grabbed his Hound teddy, and then pyroported back to her.
“His balance is getting better,” said Knox.
“I remember a time when he struggled to lift his head,” said Harper. “Now he’s walking. Walking. He’ll be a whiny teenager before we know it.”
Knox frowned. “No child of mine will be whiny.”
“Think again.”
Digging his flask out of his jacket, Keenan asked, “We going now?” He sounded about as excited as if she were taking him for a root canal.
“You don’t have to come if you don’t want to,” Harper told him. “I know my cousin drives you crazy. Not that it’s anything you should take personally. Khloë does it to everybody.”
Grunting, Keenan took a long swig from his flask. “The sooner she meets her anchor and has someone who can keep an eye on her and protect her from herself, the better.” As Harper burst out laughing, the incubus frowned. “What’s so funny?”
“It’s just that she already met her anchor, and he’s as unstable as she is.”
Eyes flaring, Keenan turned rigid. “Who?”
“He’ll be at the party—he’d never miss her birthday.”
“Well, then, I’m definitely going.” Keenan put his flask back in his pocket. “Someone needs to speak with him and make it clear that he’s not protecting her as he should.”
“Actually, Teague is a good anchor,” said Harper. “You’d be surprised how much more shit she’d have gotten herself into over the years if it weren’t for him. And he adores her.”
“So, he’s involved with her,” Keenan assumed, voice flat.
“I didn’t say that,” said Harper.
Knox curled an arm around her shoulders. “Come on, let’s go or we’re going to be late.”
They weren’t late, but the party was in full swing when they arrived, which told Harper that her family had probably started it early just for themselves. People stood all around the extensive pretty garden, wearing old and raggedy clothes. The garden was amazingly vivid and serene with its colorful flowers, ice sculptures, rose bushes, lanterns hanging from the trees, and—at Khloë’s request—the mermaid fountain.
But none of that was what made Tanner and Keenan skid to an abrupt halt in front of her, Knox, and Asher. No. Who wouldn’t skid to a halt when a hellhorse was puffing and panting like a bull while playfully chasing little kids around the garden?
It was glorious. Elegant. Strongly muscled. Breathtaking with its large wide-set eyes, arched neck, long legs, inward-turning ear tips, and the onyx-black coat that had a metallic sheen. Its dark mane was as lush and luxurious as the high-carried tail that flowed down its back like a black river.
This particular hellhorse had a distinctive scar that slashed across its neck. The mark only added to its wild look. It also made the demon easily identifiable, especially if you were a fan of hellhorse racing. The sport often occurred in the stadium at the Underground.
Harper looked at Asher as his mind stroked hers in a “Wow, look, Mom!” way. She smiled. “I see it, baby.” She moved further into the garden so that Asher could take a better look.
“Is that … ?” Keenan double-blinked. “Is that Teague Sullivan?”
“Yep,” said Harper.
“His demon is probably the fastest hellhorse in existence.”
Harper nodded. “Teague’s also Khloë’s anchor.”