Page 1 of Demon's Mate
1
HARPER
Harper Nightingale hadto escape his coven. Everything was stacked against him, but he had to get out. Another second longer, and he might implode.
Harper closed the door to his studio apartment and locked it, risking a glance down the hall. The witch spying on him was nowhere in sight, but there was always someone. Adjusting his backpack, Harper walked away as if it were a perfectly normal morning.
He wouldn’t be here by the time next weekend rolled around. No matter what. Things were about to get so much worse.
He put one foot in front of the other.
Just get to the library. Pretend today is the same as every other Saturday.
Harper forced a carefully bored expression as he descended the stairs, clenching his fist so he wouldn’t reach for the potion in his pocket. He knew it was there. There was no need to check and risk drawing attention.
He exited the apartment complex on the outskirts ofShearwater Landing. When Harper was first sent to the city by the sea, his father told him he’d be living there alone.
He bit the inside of his cheek. How had he ever been gullible enough to believe that?
Harper let out a measured breath. It didn’t matter. He would never fall for one of Arthur Nightingale’s lies again.
His skin itched as he made his way down the quiet street. The witch following him wasn’t far behind, his magical presence looming in the back of Harper’s mind.
Now that Harper knew to look out for someone tailing him, he always checked. One of Arthur’s men stalked him everywhere he went, and at least half a dozen of them lived in the apartment complex with him.
When he’d first arrived in the city a year ago on his mission to hunt the Hounds of Hell, he hadn’t noticed anything amiss. Stupid. He was so stupid for believing his father trusted him and was giving him a chance to improve his rank. Harper clenched his fist harder and pushed the regret away. There was no changing the past.
But he hadn’t even discovered his stalkers on his own. It was as embarrassing as being duped in the first place. He’d believed he was beyond his coven’s reach, and when he’d taken the chance to go out to a club one night, a familiar witch had appeared seemingly out of nowhere and stopped him.
Why had his father bothered pretending to give Harper a longer leash, only to reassert his complete control? Was it just to fuck with him? Demoralize him? The witch had dragged Harper back to his apartment, spouting Arthur’s familiar homophobic bullshit and ranting about Harper’s “questionable” behavior.
He was never beyond his father’s reach.
Harper’s blood boiled at the memory, but he kept his paceeven as he walked past shops and a small park toward the nearest subway station.
After that night, Harper’s coven kept up the illusion he was on his own, never letting him catch a glimpse of them around the complex or town, but everywhere Harper went, someone followed, their presence detectable through their magic.
Except for one witch, who seemed uninterested in participating in Arthur’s mind games. That, or the witch was lazy. Harper caught him following all the time, and he’d take advantage of the witch’s apparent apathy toward his task. At last.
After months of careful planning and preparation, Harper was going to disappear. And not a moment too soon.
He reached the subway station and waited for a train, idly scrolling on his phone and pretending his stomach wasn’t in knots. He was too tall to be inconspicuous, but he’d gotten over that a long time ago.
Harper was lean and lanky. He looked like a nondescript office worker in drab slacks and a button-down that washed out his pale skin, but dressing how he wanted wasn’t a luxury he’d ever had.
When he’d first been sent on his mission, he’d wondered why his father had him living in one of the city’s outermost suburbs since he had to travel into the heart of Shearwater Landing to make any progress with his hunt. Once he’d realized his building was infested with coven members, he suspected he’d been placed in the suburbs to isolate him and make him easier to keep track of because he had to get on the train to go anywhere of consequence.
An unpleasant chill prickled down Harper’s spine.Focus.
He boarded a train headed for downtown Shearwater Landing. The car jolted forward, the motion turning his knotted stomach. He breathed through his mouth, trying not to smell the stale air, and willed time to speed up.
Harper’s stomach roiled as he rode into the city. His palms prickled with sweat, begging to be wiped on his slacks. He held them still, better to not give away his nerves. He couldn’t risk anything tipping off his tail. The witch had to think today was like any other day.
Harper discreetly surveyed the train car. It wasn’t crowded, and his tail wasn’t in the car with him, but he knew exactly where Harper was. His coven tracked him via magic and his phone’s location.
It made disappearing complicated. Harper cursed his inability to use magic directly against his coven. It wasn’t fair. He hated how helpless it made him. If only he could knock his stalker out and run.
He was powerful in his own right, but blood loyalty to his family prevented him from using magic directly against any Nightingales who outranked him or any unrelated coven members who had been sworn in above him. Of course Harper held the lowest rank in his coven. He’d never win in a fight against any Nightingale, let alone his father, whose position as coven leader gave him power over everyone.
