Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 110802 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 554(@200wpm)___ 443(@250wpm)___ 369(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110802 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 554(@200wpm)___ 443(@250wpm)___ 369(@300wpm)
Khloë blinked. “Huh. Didn’t see that coming.” She also didn’t appear to care, which was no surprise given that she despised both of Harper’s parents.
“Wait, why Carla?” asked Devon, her cat-green eyes clouded with confusion.
“It would seem that this demon, Lawrence Crow, has visions,” replied Harper. “He claims he’s had a vision that one day Knox and I will have a baby – a baby that will destroy us all. And no, I’m not kidding. He seems to feel that, by giving birth to me, Carla is partly at fault for this. Though I’m not sure he would have kidnapped her if she hadn’t been right there when he chose to run. I think he was just being an opportunist.”
Raini leaned back against her own chair. “Wow. That’s… wow.”
Devon bit her lower lip. “Harper, I’ve been around someone who was close to rogue. They can be totally paranoid. They see threats and conspiracies everywhere.”
Harper raised a reassuring hand. “I don’t believe his vision was anything but a delusion.”
The hellcat nodded. “Good.”
“Oh, and I almost got mugged yesterday,” Harper then announced. Yes, she was understating things, but only because she didn’t want it to sway their decision to relocate. “Which Knox is of course using to support his case that we should move the studio to the Underground. He’s even chosen a building he thinks will be ideal.”
“Have you been to see it?” asked Khloë, to which Harper shook her head.
“I wasn’t keen on the idea of moving at first,” said Raini. “This is our baby. But there would be some benefits to moving. Let’s face it; this isn’t a good area. Our client base would be bigger if we moved to the Underground. We’d also be a lot safer there.” She turned to Devon. “What do you think?”
“Part of me doesn’t like the idea,” replied the hellcat. “We built this up to what it is; we built up our reputation and our client base. And I like the location. It’s near the sandwich shop and the bakery.”
“But…?” prompted Raini.
“But moving makes good business sense,” Devon went on. “We’d lose some clients, but we’d gain others. We wouldn’t have to pay rent or bills because, hello, the Underground partly belongs to Harper now. Besides, there are bakeries and stuff down there too. What about you, Khloë?”
“I like the idea of working somewhere where we wouldn’t have to pretend to be something we’re not.” Khloë gestured to the studio. “Here, we have to act human. Down there, we can be ourselves. There’s a flipside to that, though. Demons will always look down on imps, especially Wallis imps. That will affect the business on some level and we might have to deal with a lot of rudeness.”
“You’re right,” said Harper. “Our surname means nothing to humans, so we don’t have that issue here. But we’d face it down there.” Groaning, Harper rubbed at her eyes. “I know one thing. He’s not going to let this go. So, what do we do? It has to be a unanimous decision.”
“Despite the downsides of being there, I’m open to relocating,” said Raini. “But I’d have to see the space he wants us to use. It would have to feel right to me.”
Devon nodded. “Agree to take a look at it, Harper. If you think it’s cool, call us. We’ll come and check it out.”
“If it meets all of our approval, I don’t see why we can’t move there,” said Khloë. “People relocate their businesses all the time. I’d miss this place, though.”
Looking around the studio, Harper couldn’t help but smile. She really did love it. Loved its rock/art/Harley-Davidson vibe. Loved the metal wall art hanging on the white walls with framed photos of tattoos. Each piece of wall art was an enlarged copy of a tattoo. Some were simple, like bright flames and tribal swirls. Others were bolder, like the howling wolf, the flock of ravens, and the Chinese dragons.
Hearing the door open, Harper looked to see… “Belinda.” How wonderful. Her inner demon rolled its eyes; it deemed the woman rather pathetic. As a cambion, Belinda was half-human, but cambions were still classed as a breed of demon in their own right.
Belinda halted in front of her, hands on hips, long false nails tapping her pencil skirt. As ever, she looked the consummate professional. Her make-up was perfectly applied. There wasn’t a single wrinkle in that gray suit tailor-made for her willowy figure. Her black heels were stylish, but sensible. And her wheat-blonde hair was pulled back in a severe French pleat with the help of a lot of gel. It looked a little painful, actually. Her scalp had to sting something awful.
Hazel eyes hard, Belinda spoke with a tone sharp enough to cut glass. “Really, Harper, you need to follow my schedule if this event is to go as it should.”