“Will do. And, Ma?”
“Yes?”
“I love you.”
Harper decided in that moment that she must not tell her mother she loved her enough, because Tina’s eyes immediately filled with tears and she pulled a tissue out of her sleeve to dab at them. “I love you, too, baby,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “You bring that boy back and you marry him. You hear me, girl?”
Harper gave her a mock-salute. “Yes, ma’am.”
When she ended the Skype, she dropped her head into her hands. Defeat the bad guy, get her man, live happily ever after.
“No pressure or anything,” she muttered to the empty room.
***
Harper asked Mischa and Hunter to stay in the living room while she spoke to Leon, who was curled up on the bed in the fetal position, rocking back and forth incessantly.
He looked up at her with wide eyes when she sat down next to him. “I have no idea why I said all of that to her,” he whispered.
She gave him an awkward pat on the back that she hoped he didn’t read anything into. “Trust me, Leon, you didn’t have any choice. She’s the best of the best.”
“No shit.”
“So, you know I need to know all about Riddick, right? What you told my mom was just the beginning. I need you to tell me everything.”
He stopped rocking. “And you’ll do what to me if I don’t?”
And for all her thoughts of scalping and fingernail removal, looking down into Leon’s fear-filled eyes and quivering unibrow, she realized she couldn’t hurt him. Torture just wasn’t her style.
She sighed. “You’re here to help me, and I truly appreciate that. I’m not going to torture you for not telling me what I need to know. But…” she paused. “I am hoping you’ll tell me. As a friend.”
His eyes lit up so much at her use of the word friend that she almost regretted saying it. What did friend mean to this guy? Had she just committed herself to games of Dungeons & Dragons and visits to Star Trek conventions?
Then she felt like the world’s worst person for even thinking such things. Hell, he was here to save her life and she’d sicced her mother on him. The least she could do was dress up like a Klingon once a year and visit nerd Mecca with him.
Leon sat up. “You’d really consider…being friends with me?”
She smiled at him, giving him the full, toothy grin Riddick often referred to as his Kryptonite. “You’re already my friend, Leon.”
Harper would’ve sworn she saw tears welling in his eyes before he sniffled and looked away. “I guess I could always use another friend,” he said, totally nonchalant. Then in a quieter voice, he added, “Thanks.”
She threw an arm around his shoulders. “Sorry about my mom.”
He chuckle-snorted. “I’m not sure how someone who looks so…fluffy can be that tough.” Then he turned and looked her up and down. “But then again, yeah, I guess I do.”
Being compared to her mom was probably one of the most flattering and terrifying things that could happen to her, but she chose not to dwell on it. “Can you tell me more about Riddick, Leon?”
He clasped his hands in front of him, between his splayed knees, and looked down at his shoes. “Where do you want me to start?”
“Start with the experiments, Leon.”
He nodded, not making eye contact. “It was an off-the-books experiment. The director knew nothing about it.”
“How is that possible, Leon? I thought all decisions made within Sentry went through the director.”
“They did, but when we pitched the idea of creating an entire race of super soldiers, he denied our request for funding. Said he’d made his peace with being judge and executioner, but he wouldn’t play God.” He paused for a long moment. “But we were so sure we were right, you know?”
She didn’t, really. The mere thought of genetic engineering gave her the willies. She supposed Sentry’s director had felt the same way. “So, you ignored his order and got funding elsewhere?”
He flushed red and she suddenly knew exactly where he’d gotten his funding. The little thief had embezzled it.
But he didn’t admit it aloud, instead choosing to ignore the question all together. “The experiments worked just like we thought they would…in some cases.”
Harper felt a nervous pit forming in her stomach. “It’s true, isn’t it? You created the naturals.”
Leon looked proud and a little ashamed all at the same time. He nodded. “We called them dhampyres.”
She blinked. “Damn what now?”
He pursed his lips and looked down his nose at her like she was a slow-witted toddler. “Dhampyres. In Balkan folklore, a dhampyre is the result of a union between a vampire and a human. They basically have all the strengths of vampires, with none of the weaknesses. Super strength, speed, and healing ability, but no need to ingest blood, no sunlight or silver aversion. They were perfect.”
Harper sputtered. “They weren’t perfect! Most of them were crazy. Some of them were serial killers, for God’s sake!”
She shuddered. She’d only ever met three naturals in her life. She was marrying one, and the other two—Riddick’s father included—were creepy bastards. It was bad enough thinking people like that existed in nature. But knowing they’d been created in a lab, on purpose? Well, that was just sick. Sick enough that she was currently fighting the urge to kick her new friend Leon in the shins.
“Only some of them were crazy!” He snapped back. “And there was really only one of them that was a serial killer, in the truest sense of the word.”
Harper felt her eyes roll of their own volition. “Nuance. So, what made Riddick different from the crazy ones?”
He tugged at his unibrow. “We couldn’t be sure, but it seemed like it was his blood type. Riddick is AB negative. So was his mother. All of our type A, B, and O subjects were a little off.”
Yeah, she internally scoffed. A little off like serial killer off. “Why would that happen?”
Leon leaned forward, obviously sliding into science teacher mode. “Well, there’s a ton of research to support that blood type can impact everything from personality to digestion. Type O people digest meat more easily than Type AB people, for example. So, it would make sense that every individual blood type would handle dialysis with vampire blood differently.” He shrugged. “I wasn’t able to continue my research, so we’ll probably never really know for sure.”
“Why didn’t you finish the research?”
“When Ken escaped and released all of our test subjects, we weren’t sure what to do. We couldn’t admit to performing unsanctioned experiments on humans. So…we kind of…panicked and…”
“Oh, for God’s sake, Leon,” Harper grumbled. “You’re slower than Christmas.”
And with that, she reached over and grabbed Leon’s hand, sucking in a deep breath as multiple visions bombarded her.
The research team managed to track down one or two of the test subjects on their own and gave their names and locations to a few slayers, ratting them out as some unclassified kind of paranormal. When the dhampyres were hunted down, it didn’t take long for the slayers to realize they were up against something new. The legend of the “naturals” was born.
She let go of Leon in disgust. “You let them hunt down all of the dhampyres. Not just the crazy ones.”
His eyes filled with tears. “We were wrong. And scared. We didn’t know how to clean up our mess. We couldn’t let the bad ones run free and hurt normal people.”
Harper would normally try to make Leon feel better. After all, who hadn’t fucked up a time or two—or twenty—in life?
But in this case, she just couldn’t bring herself to comfort him. Riddick was one of the dhampyres, and he was the best man she knew. He deserved to live, and she wondered how many other innocent dhampyres like Riddick had died to cover the research team’s mistake.
She let her head drop into her hands. “Great. Now I have to convince Riddick, who alr
eady thinks he’s a monster, that being a dhampyre doesn’t make him dangerous to everyone he loves.”
Leon sniffled and wiped his nose with the back of his hand. “Why would he think he’s dangerous to everyone he loves?”
She lifted her head and threw her hands up in frustration. “I don’t know, Leon. Maybe because he’s a lab-created half- vampire, half-human, designed for the sole purpose of being some kind of elite killer?”
He blinked at her, seemingly immune to her sarcasm. “Why would anyone assume we were trying to create killers?”
Now she was confused. “Wait…what?”
“We didn’t create dhampyres to be Sentry killers. Pfffttt. Hell, no. We created dhampyres to defend humans. Serve and protect, you know? That’s why the good ones are so good. Haven’t you noticed a heightened protectiveness in Riddick?”
Well, that was a little bit of an understatement. He tended to threaten and or maim people who so much as disrespected her. “That’s part of being a dhampyre?”
“Only for the AB crowd. The others—”
“Yeah, yeah,” she interrupted. “They were a little off.”
He bit his lower lip and glanced at her from under his lashes. “Do you hate me now? Can we still be friends?”
She closed her eyes and rubbed her aching temples. “I’m not gonna lie, Leon, I’m not super happy about this. You screwed up royally. It’s possible that good people died because of the mistakes you made.”
He nodded sadly, letting his chin hit his chest. The air of pathetic around him was…well, pathetic. She sighed. “But your intentions were good. And you being here to help me shows that there’s a good person somewhere inside you just dying to get out.”
She waited until he raised his eyes to hers before adding, “I understand why you did what you did, and for what it’s worth, I forgive you. Of course we’re still friends.”
He grabbed her and pulled her into a hug that squashed the air right out of her lungs. “Oh, thank you so much,” he gushed into her hair. “I swear to God I’m going to turn my life around. I’m going to be a better person. You wait and see. I’ll do anything you want me to do to help Riddick.”
Harper disengaged from the hug and looked him square in the eyes. “You mean that?”
“Absolutely. Do you need me to do something now? To help you or Riddick?”
She took a deep breath. “Yes. I actually need you to hold off on that whole being a better person thing for a while.”
His brow furrowed for a second before an evil Grinch-like smile split his face. “That’s good. I have a feeling that being a good person is kind of overrated.”
Yeah, that was pretty much her opinion, too.
At least that’s what she was telling herself these days.
Chapter Thirty-One
A few minutes later, Harper dove for the door when she heard footsteps on the other side. When she practically ripped it from the hinges, she found herself face-to-face—or, face to shoulder, to be more precise—with Archer’s bodyguard.
Oh, boy. If this wasn’t just the cherry on top of the shit sundae that was her day, then she didn’t know what was.
So, in a situation like this, one might wonder how to handle an irate vampire. Pissing him off further would be ill-advised, obviously. Diplomacy was most likely called for.
Harper arched a brow at him. “Come for your sword, Sparky?”
Sadly, diplomacy had never been Harper’s strong suit.
He leaned down and hissed in her face like a snake, baring his fangs at her.
“Blech!” Harper wiped her face with her shirt sleeve. “Say it, don’t spray it, pal. That’s just gross.”
He reached for her throat, but missed the mark when she dodged out of the way and Hunter stepped up, punching him in the chest and knocking him back into the hall.
“This woman is under my protection, child,” Hunter said calmly, as if he hadn’t just tossed an angry vampire out of the doorway. “You’ll do well to remember that.”
Sparky’s fangs stayed on display, but he obviously knew when he’d been outclassed, because he immediately inclined his head, acknowledging Hunter’s superior age and strength.
One of the better qualities vampires possessed was a healthy respect for their elders. Humans could take a few notes on the matter, in Harper’s opinion.
Behind them, Mischa asked, “Am I under your protection, too?”
One corner of Hunter’s mouth tipped up in a smirk. “No. No protection required. You’re mine. You’ve been marked as such.”
Mischa’s hand flew to the small puncture wounds on her neck, and she blushed to the roots of her hair.
Harper rolled her eyes as they crossed the room toward each other and locked lips again. Okay, now this was getting ridiculous. She was happy for them and all, but geez, how long was this honeymoon period going to last? The sweetness factor was starting to ick her out a little.
She glanced back at Sparky. “What do you want?”
“He’s here with me.”
Harper frowned as Archer approached from further down the hall. Great. Just what she needed. She threw up her hands and muttered to whatever gods might be listening, “What, no locusts? No boils? Come on, it’s like you’re not even trying to smite me anymore. You’re just trying to irritate me to death.”
Archer chuckled. “You needn’t worry about plagues, Ms. Hall. I’m not here to harm you.”
Her chin dropped to her chest. She hadn’t told him her name. He’d apparently done some research. She’d hoped that once she got Riddick into the Arena, he wouldn’t really care enough to research who she was. Guess she’d underestimated how seriously Archer took someone marching up to his table and making his bodyguards cautionary tales.
Live and learn, she supposed.
Or in this case, maybe not.
“OK, Archer, let’s just cut the shit,” she said, suddenly feeling about a decade older. “What do you want?”
He looked around her, eyeing Hunter and Mischa with interest. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “No. And just so you know, they aren’t interested in your kind of games, either.”
He sighed wistfully. “Pity.”
She just raised a brow and stared at him until he said, “I’m here to inform you that the terms of our original agreement have changed.”
Behind her Mischa sputtered, “You can’t do that! You agreed to clear Romeo’s debt if Riddick fought and won. He’s winning. You can’t ask for more now.”
Archer smirked at her. “Did you expect the paranormal mafia to play fair?”
Harper listened, somewhat dazed, as Archer laid out his new terms. Riddick would fight his last match in the Arena and win, which would pay Romeo’s debt down by half. Then, Harper would pay off the balance as Archer’s personal psychic. And…whatever else he wanted until the debt was wiped clean. If they refused, Archer would have Riddick disqualified immediately for the meeting he had with his father.
So, not only had Archer figured out who they were, he’d apparently been following them for some time.
Awesome.
Eventually, while Harper remained silent, Hunter slammed the door in Archer’s face. She sank onto the couch and Mischa sat down next to her, sliding an arm around her shoulders.
“We’ll figure a way out of this. I promise.”
Harper shook her head. “I…this…we…”
Hunter took a step back. “Shit, she’s not going to cry, is she?”
Mischa looked concerned. “She’s not really a crier. Baby, are you OK? Talk to me.”
She stared down at her hands a moment before answering. “I’m so mad…my hands are shaking.”
Hunter looked confused, but relieved. “So, that means she’s not going to cry, right?”
Mischa pulled her arm away, eyeing Harper like a rabbit eyeing a hungry cougar. “Um…no. She’s definitely not going to cry. I’ve only seen her get so upset her hands start
ed shaking once before.”
“And?” Hunter prompted.
“And…I’m kind of starting to feel sorry for Archer.”
“He doesn’t need your pity,” Harper muttered darkly. “He needs you to pray for him. I’m going to make him wish he’d never been turned. Then I’m going to take away everything he’s ever loved.”
“Then you’ll kill him?” Hunter suggested helpfully.
“No, of course not. Dying is too good for him. I’m just going to make him wish he was dead.”
“Ah, man, this is so freakin’ cool,” Benny said, bouncing from one foot to the other around the kitchenette table. “It’s like Ocean’s Eleven, dude.”
Mischa leaned her elbows on the table and looked over the top of her glasses at him. “We’re taking down the paranormal mafia, not robbing a casino. How is that at all like Ocean’s Eleven?”
“It’s an epic caper, man, you know? Harper’s George Clooney and I’m Brad Pitt and—”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Lucas interrupted from his place on the couch in the living area. “No way are you Brad Pitt.”
Benny frowned at him. “Why the fuck not?”
Hunter stood behind Mischa, rested his hands on her shoulders and asked, “Have you seen you?” Lucas nodded in agreement.
Harper shot them a warning look. She knew she was in the minority, but she had a real soft spot in her heart for Benny Scarpelli and she didn’t want anyone picking on him.
Benny was a halfer, a rather unfortunate combination of wererat and vampire. Sadly, halfers had all the drawbacks and precious few of the benefits of either race.
And while Benny was far from a saint (he was a known liar, an accomplished cheat, and a suspected petty larcenist), but he’d managed to save Harper’s life last year, and now he was one of her best friends.
Sure, his sense of humor often leaned toward offensive and his grooming habits were suspect, but Benny was…well, he was family. Bless his crooked little heart.
Harper Hall Investigations Complete Series Page 39
