Romeo finished his last stitch and stood up, holding his hand up to her in a supplicating gesture. “Calm down, darlin’. I know you’re upset, but—”
And just like that, her very last nerve snapped under Romeo’s booted foot.
“Upset?” she screeched. “Calm down?”
She launched herself at him, diving under the hand he held up to ward her off, slamming her shoulder into his stomach. The impact knocked him off his feet and he hit the floor with a surprised “Oomph!”
She drove her fist into his nose, putting her entire body behind the punch. “I’ll show you upset, motherfucker!”
Romeo jerked his hands up to cover his face, so she punched him in the stomach next. He groaned, then bucked under her, trying to toss her aside, but she dug her knees into his ribs and punched him again.
She raised her fist to hit him again, but Riddick threw an arm around her waist and hauled her off him.
“Hey,” he whispered in her ear. “I’m fine. You don’t need to kill him just yet. Especially not on my behalf.”
Harper struggled for another minute, even got in one more good kick to Romeo’s rib cage, but eventually, she went limp in Riddick’s arms, physically and emotionally exhausted. He turned her around and she pressed her face into the crook of his neck, breathing hard. His arms tightened around her.
Behind her, she heard Romeo stumble to his feet. “Goddammit, Harpy! What the fuck is the matter with you?”
“Leave,” Riddick told him.
“Where the hell am I supposed to—”
“I don’t care. Leave.”
Harper waited until she heard the door slam before lifting her head. Riddick smoothed her hair away from her forehead and smiled down at her.
“I’m sorry,” she said, sniffling. “I’m…not exactly sure what happened there.”
“You’ve been doing a great job of keeping my shit together. You were due for a little breakdown of your own. How’re the hands, champ?”
She glanced down at her bruised, swollen knuckles and winced. “Yeah, I’d forgotten why I got good at takedowns instead of punching. Hitting people in the face hurts.”
“Next time go for a kick to the groin.”
“Good plan.”
He pulled her in close again, threading his fingers through her hair. “It’s gonna be OK, Sunshine. Just keep that vision of yours in mind. This will all be over before you know it.”
She gave a watery chuckle. “Since when did you become an optimist?”
“Since you made me the luckiest man in the world and said you’d marry me,” he said earnestly.
She blinked. Well, if that wasn’t the most romantic thing she’d ever heard in her life, she wasn’t sure what was.
But if she responded in kind, she’d start crying again, so instead of telling him she loved him and couldn’t wait to be his wife, she said, “If you’re trying to get me into bed…well, that will probably work.”
He chuckled and kissed the top of her head. “No more talk of running away, OK? It’s not your style. You’re so much better than that.”
Harper sighed. “Fine. I just hate thinking of you in that hellhole. I wish you’d never agreed to fight.”
“After what I saw here tonight, I’m thinking maybe you should take over for me in the Arena, anyway. You kicked Romeo’s sorry ass all over the room.”
She pulled back and pointed a finger in his face. “Remember that for after we’re married. You better be the model husband or I’ll kick your ass.”
His eyes darkened to cobalt as he tucked a curl behind her ear. “If you’re just trying to get me into bed…well, that will probably work.”
Words weren’t necessary for the rest of the night.
Riddick laid in bed, staring up at the ceiling. Harper had fallen asleep...shit, he wasn’t even sure how long ago. He had no idea what time it was.
Not that it mattered. It wasn’t like he was going to fall asleep any time soon. He supposed he should just be thankful his brain had found a way to keep the nightmares at bay.
Not falling asleep at all certainly did the trick.
Watching Harper fall apart earlier had left him with a hollow pit in his gut. Seeing such a brave, strong woman suffer because of him made him ache to finish the beating she’d given Romeo.
Harper grumbled in her sleep and rolled toward him. He eased his arms around her and settled her on his chest, carefully keeping her face away from his stitches. She sighed and pressed her nose into the crook of his neck.
He’d promised her that he’d be completely honest with her. He’d lied.
How could he explain to this woman—the woman he loved and who worried herself nauseous before his every fight—that he liked fighting in the Arena?
He wasn’t so far gone that he enjoyed hurting the other fighters. Not yet, anyway. But the rush of adrenaline that came from giving the beast a little bit of slack in its leash, if only for a short time?
Yeah, that felt good. Really good. Probably too good, if he was entirely honest about it.
In the Arena, there was no fear. No thought. No pain. Just adrenaline and the primal survival instinct.
He had purpose in the Arena. His so-called gifts made sense there.
Someone as well-adjusted as Harper couldn’t possibly understand that. And he didn’t want her to. She was sunshine, he was darkness. He’d never do anything to dim her outlook on life.
No, he couldn’t tell her how he was feeling.
Harper had never seen the beast. Not really. But the more time he spent in the Arena, the more likely it became that it would slip its leash entirely, and Harper would know once and for all what he was capable of.
He could only hope she’d be smart enough to leave him when that happened. And never look back.
Romeo didn’t come back to the hotel room until dawn. Harper only felt a little bit guilty that he looked like day-old roadkill.
He boosted himself up on the counter in the kitchenette, pulled a minibar-sized bottle of Jack Daniels from his jacket pocket, and downed it in two swallows.
Harper raised a brow at him as she flipped some bacon in a skillet. “Breakfast of champions?”
He grunted in reply.
“I’m not going to apologize to you,” she told him. “After what you did to me and Riddick, I’m not all that sorry for kicking your ass.”
“First of all, you didn’t kick my ass. I don’t hit girls.”
She smirked. “That’s right. You’re a gentleman.”
He ignored her sarcasm and said, “And second of all, I didn’t ask you for an apology. I know damn good and well I don’t deserve one. In fact, it’s kind of a miracle you and Riddick haven’t killed me yet.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” she muttered.
“We need to talk about Riddick’s next fight.”
“He’s in the shower. You can talk to him when he’s done.”
He shook his head. “No. I need to talk to you about the next fight.”
She frowned, scooped the bacon onto a paper towel-covered plate, and turned to face him, arms crossed over her chest. “Why me and not him?”
“I told you the final fighter isn’t like anyone I’ve ever fought, right?”
“Yeah, so?”
“So,” he paused, scratching his head, “I think you should touch him. See if you can get a vision off him.”
Well, never let it be said that Romeo was a boring conversationalist. “Why? What do you think I’ll see?”
“I’m not sure exactly. I just know he’s not a vamp, not a shifter, but not quite human either. He’ll be practicing at Iron Gym a few hours before the fight. I think you and Riddick should go check out the competition. And if you can pick up on what he is, maybe it will help Riddick beat him in the Arena.”
She cocked her head to the side. “You think he’ll need help beating him in the Arena?”
The long pause that followed her question filled Harper with dread.
“He might
,” Romeo said, somewhat cautiously. “Like I said: this guy’s like no one I’ve ever fought before, Harpy. Riddick shouldn’t underestimate him.”
“OK. Anything else?”
He hopped off the counter and laid his hands on her shoulders. She moved to shrug him off, but he held firm. “You can’t let him kill this guy, babe,” he said. “No matter how hairy things get during the fight, he can’t kill anyone in there. He won’t come back from that.”
Harper swallowed hard. She knew that. Riddick had been in control so far, but Harper saw the strain that control was putting on him. And she also saw that Romeo was right. If Riddick killed his next opponent, he wouldn’t walk away from that unscathed. It would gnaw at him. Change him.
“I get it,” she said, her voice sounding a little raw.
He nodded and let her go. “Good. Because I have a feeling you’re the only one who can stop him if he really wants someone dead.”
She closed her eyes. “Great,” she murmured. “No pressure or anything.”
Chapter Twenty-One
“Reason number eighteen,” Mischa said with all the confidence she could muster, given the stupidity of what she was about to say, “is that you’re way too tall for me. I’d get a kink in my neck every time we kissed.”
There was a loaded pause while he processed that little nugget of crazy. And from the incredulous look on his face, he recognized crazy when he heard it. “I’m too tall,” he repeated dryly.
Now she was wishing her phone didn’t have that stupid flashlight app. Having to look at him while she spouted drivel—-because God knew it was drivel—was torturous. Every reason she came up with was beyond stupid and it would be a miracle if she made it through this.
But he didn’t say another word.
No, he was far too diabolical for that.
He reached her in one purposeful step, snaked an arm around her waist, and hauled her up against him until their mouths were precisely level and only a breath apart.
“There,” he said, his voice low. “We’re exactly the same height now. You can kiss me all you want without getting a kink in your neck.”
Oh, God. She wanted to. He’d taste like heat and sex and heaven all rolled into one glorious package.
But she wasn’t about to lose the bet this easily. “That was just an example,” she said, silently cursing her voice for sounding all breathy and, well, slutty, quite frankly.
He sighed, but dropped her to her feet. “Very well. Next reason.”
“Reason number nineteen is that I’m too old for you.”
His answering laughter took her totally off guard. “What’s so funny?” she asked.
“Love,” he said, letting out one last chuckle. “I’m centuries older than you.”
“That’s not what I mean. You were turned when you were twenty-five. I’m much older than that.” Forty, blech, “We’d look ridiculous together.”
He reached out and brushed the back of his hand over her cheek. She fought not to lean into his touch and rub her face against his hand like a stray puppy.
“You,” he said, “don’t look a day over twenty-five yourself. And even if you did, I couldn’t care less. You’re beautiful no matter your age.”
She let out a startled gasp as he spun her around toward the mirror on the elevator door and pulled her back against his chest. He leaned over her and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the side of her neck. Her knees gave out, but he kept her upright without any visible effort.
“And look at us,” he whispered in her ear. “We look anything but ridiculous together.”
She met his gaze in the mirror by the light of her phone’s flashlight app and her eyes widened. Holy shit, he was right! They looked amazing together. They were physical opposites, but somehow, they were a perfect match.
“You’re down to your last reason, love,” he said, meeting her gaze in the mirror. “Make it real this time.”
Looking at him now, seeing his sincerity and the easy way he’d handled all of her bullshit excuses, she knew he was right. It was time to tell the truth.
She cleared her throat and shifted her gaze away from his. “I don’t deserve you,” she whispered.
He leaned in closer, moving his hands to her shoulders. “I have supernatural hearing, love, and even I can’t possibly have heard that right—so, I’m going to need you to repeat it.”
She threw her hands up in frustration. “I don’t deserve you, okay? I tried to kill you, for God’s sake! Why don’t you hate me?”
He jerked back as if she’d slapped him. “Why would I hate you? You were just doing your job.”
“I did what I was told without question, which makes me a shit person and an even worse judge of character. You were innocent.” She shook her head as tears filled her eyes. “I don’t deserve to be happy with a man I tried to kill.”
“And that’s the real reason you think we can’t be together?”
When she didn’t answer, he gently turned her in his arms and tipped her chin up with his index finger. “Mischa, is that the real reason? The only reason?”
She blinked up at him, confused. “You were expecting something else? The fact that I murdered people—tried to murder you—isn’t enough for you?”
He raised his hands up in a give-me-strength gesture. “All these years. Wasted. We could’ve been together, but you thought you weren’t good enough for me. That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard come out of a smart person’s mouth.”
Her jaw dropped. “Hey, I’m not—”
He pressed his hand over her mouth. “I’m done listening. It’s my turn to talk.”
She considered biting his hand, but he gave her a reproachful glare so powerful she reconsidered. She supposed she, at the very least, owed him the opportunity to speak his mind.
Hunter pulled his hand away from her mouth and gave her a gentle shove back against the wall. He leaned in, putting his palms flat on either side of her head.
“I should’ve told you this a long time ago,” he began, “but I never dreamed you’d be so foolish as to think yourself a bad person.”
She frowned, not accustomed to having words like foolish aimed at her.
He went on, “When I first met you, I was fascinated with…well, everything about you. But specifically, I wanted to know why someone like you—someone so smart and strong and beautiful—would work for an agency like Sentry.”
He thinks you’re beautiful, her heart sang.
You should totally jump him, her body advised.
Mischa closed her eyes. Jesus, these little internal arguments had to stop. Especially since her heart and body were speaking louder than her brain these days.
“So I did a little research.”
Her eyes popped open. “What kind of research?”
“I know why you agreed to work for Sentry.”
She bit her lower lip to stop it from trembling. “You can’t possibly know that.”
“I know about how your father died.”
She’d never told anyone about her father. Not even Harper knew that her father died during a vampire’s failed attempt to change him.
Not even her mother knew that he’d asked for the change.
But Sentry had known. They even knew about the debt her father managed to amass before his death. Debt that would ensure her seven brothers and poor arthritic mother would never get ahead, not matter how hard they worked.
Sentry had agreed to not only pay the debts, but pay for her brothers’ college educations. She now had two neurosurgeons, one investment banker, three aerospace engineers, one defense attorney, and one cat cardiologist (yes, there is such a thing) in her family.
All Sentry asked in return was her future.
It wasn’t so bad, really. She’d earned a decent paycheck. Got to help people.
Or so she thought at the time.
“What did you want to be before they forced you into a life of servitude?” Hunter asked quietly.
She impatient
ly swiped away a tear before it could roll down her cheek. “A vet.”
He smiled, his eyes going soft. “You would’ve been an amazing vet.”
Her chin came up. “If given a second chance, I wouldn’t do anything different. I did the right thing for my family.”
He nodded. “I know that. It’s one of the things I love about you—but it’s also your biggest downfall. You put everyone else’s needs above your own. Your selflessness is going to get you killed one day.”
Her brain stuck on the word love and couldn’t seem to move past it. Did he just say that he—
“So, knowing that you are the kind of person who cares about others to the detriment of yourself, I looked into every one of the kills you and your team carried out for Sentry.”
Her heart started to pound even harder. “And?”
“And they were good kills, Mischa. Every one of them was a real danger to society. Murderers, rapists, child molesters…you shouldn’t feel bad about ordering any of their deaths.”
Okay, maybe she was still just having trouble getting past the word love, because this wasn’t making any sense to her addled brain. “But what about you? If Sentry told me the truth about all of the other vampires, why would they lie about you?”
He shifted, looking uncomfortable, which was something she hadn’t seen from him since…well, ever, she supposed.
“I was on their list for another reason,” he said, somewhat cagily.
She raised a brow. “Really?” she asked dryly. “You’ve gone this far with the story and now you’re going to hide something from me?”
His jaw tightened visibly. “Let’s just say the director’s wife had an affinity for vampires. I never read her mind, so I had no idea she was married. And we weren’t, uh, discreet.”
Mischa let that information percolate for a moment, then she planted her tongue firmly in her cheek before saying, “So, let me get this straight. The director ordered me to kill you because you were banging his wife.”
He cringed. “Well, it sounds really dirty when you say it like that. Which is why I didn’t tell you about it sooner. Of course, in my own defense, I had no idea you’d been flogging yourself, thinking me an innocent man you’d tried to murder.”
Harper Hall Investigations Complete Series Page 34
