Harper Hall Investigations Complete Series

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Harper Hall Investigations Complete Series Page 65

by Isabel Jordan


  Riddick—her brother—came back from putting the baby down for a nap in the nursery, which was really just the office next to Harper’s. Harper smiled at him and asked, “Was she tired?”

  He nodded. “Out like a light the minute I laid her down.”

  Seven found it hard to stop looking at Riddick. It was obvious they were related. They had the same complexion and eye color. The same high, sharp cheekbones.

  But beyond the physical similarities, they also shared a hardness in the eyes she had to assume came from being a dhampyre who’d worked for Sentry. Riddick was a man who’d done his fair share of killing. He probably had regrets, just like she did. She wondered if he had nightmares, too.

  Like her—and unlike his wife—Riddick wasn’t terribly touchy-feely. But she saw the emotion in his eyes when he looked at her. Lucas had been right. Riddick was glad to have her with him.

  As her thoughts drifted to Lucas, so did her eyes. He was standing in the doorway of Harper’s office, leaning a shoulder against the doorjamb, arms crossed over his chest. Anyone who didn’t know better would assume he was a casual observer, not really invested in what was going on in the room. But Seven knew better.

  Every time she felt out of sorts or unsure of how to behave, she’d look to Lucas and find him watching her. He’d give her the barest hint of an encouraging smile and she immediately felt calmer, more like herself.

  It was disconcerting that someone—especially someone she’d just met—had that kind of power over her. The only reason she’d managed to stay alive so long was because she’d always been in control of her emotions and actions. She was a cold, calculating, strategic thinker. Until today.

  Today she was somebody’s sister, aunt, and sister-in-law. Today she was someone who could feel a man’s gaze on her from across the room. Someone who could still feel the heat of his skin against hers from when he’d helped her out of the car earlier.

  Someone who’d liked that feeling far more than she ever would’ve expected.

  Riddick stopped in front of her and laid a hand lightly on her shoulder. “Are you OK? I’m sure this is all a little overwhelming.”

  Overwhelming was a good word for it. As if she was drowning in three feet of water in plain sight of the shore. Her eyes drifted back to Lucas before meeting Riddick’s. “I’m fine.” She searched her brain for a moment, wondering what else she should say. What would normal people say? She finally settled on a simple “Thank you.”

  His answering smile was sardonic, as if he knew she was full of shit and just telling him what he wanted to hear, but he didn’t call her out on it. Instead he brushed the knuckles of one hand whisper-soft over her cheek, the gesture so tender and so completely foreign to Seven that she felt a lump forming in her throat.

  “Oh, shit, I can’t stand it,” Harper blurted before shoving Riddick out of the way and grabbing Seven in another bone-crushing hug. “We’re just so happy to have you here!”

  Suddenly it all became too much. The lump of emotion in her throat, a tearful Harper in her arms, everyone looking at her, smiling and happy…it was just too much. Her heart rate and breathing kicked up until she felt lightheaded.

  Of their own volition, her eyes sought out Lucas, who seemed to understand her unspoken plea. He immediately pushed away from the doorframe and pried her out of Harper’s arms. “OK, OK,” he murmured. “Give her some air, Harper.”

  Harper nodded, eyes glistening. “Sorry. I’m just really happy for you both. I’ll stop the hugging.” She twisted her fingers up into some kind of complicated-looking knot. “Scout’s honor.”

  Benny snorted. “Like you were ever a Scout.”

  “I was too a Scout,” Harper said, indignant.

  Mischa rolled her eyes. “You were banned for life after the first cookie sale for giving Amy Sparacino a swirly. I don’t think that counts.”

  Harper flipped her hair and waved a hand dismissively. “Nuance. I was there. I had the uniform and everything. That totally counts.”

  Seven breathed a huge sigh of relief as Harper, Benny, and Mischa continued to banter back and forth. With the focus off her, she could relax again.

  Lucas put his hands on her shoulders and eased her back against his chest. His heat and strength enveloped her, as did the clean, woodsy, masculine scent of his skin. She fought the urge to turn in his arms and bury her nose in the space where his neck met his shoulder. That kind of reaction probably wasn’t normal, she decided. He was just trying to offer comfort, after all. Nothing more.

  Violet cleared her throat. “Seven, I’m sure that Mischa and Harper keep some clothes here in case you’d like to clean up and change.”

  Mischa nodded. “In the hall closet behind the reception desk, I keep some sweats and hoodies. You’re welcome to whatever you’d like.”

  Harper added, “I have some stuff in there, too. Shoes, too. We look like we’re close to the same size.”

  Seven glanced down at her institutional-grade tank top and pants. They were still serviceable. “These are fine.”

  Violet shifted from one foot to the other, looking uncomfortable. “But…aren’t you cold?”

  She’d been trained to work in any environment. She could run ten miles, uphill, barefoot in the snow if she had to. “No. I’m fine.”

  As everyone continued to look uncomfortable, another thought occurred to Seven. “Were you just trying to get me to leave so you could talk about me?”

  Harper barked out a sharp laugh and Riddick grinned at her.

  Violet sighed, looking dismayed. “Was I that obvious?”

  Seven shrugged. “Subterfuge isn’t for everyone. You shouldn’t feel too bad about it.”

  Harper grinned at her. “You and me? We’re gonna get along just fine.”

  Chapter Eight

  “OK, so why the fuck are we calling her Seven instead of Grace? It’s just fucking weird.”

  Violet pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed, obviously unaccustomed to having her recommendations questioned. “Riddick, I understand this is difficult, but that girl is simply not ready to be Grace yet. Grace comes with expectations. You expect Grace to be part of your family, a long-lost sister, aunt.” She paused, shaking her head. “That’s a lot to live up to for someone who isn’t used to being around people at all. Seven can just be Seven. No expectations, no preconceived notions. If she decides she wants to be Grace one day, that’ll be up to her.”

  “It’s still fucking weird,” Riddick muttered.

  Harper slipped an arm around his waist. “Whatever is best for her is fine with us, right?”

  He sighed. “Yeah. Of course.”

  Benny rubbed the back of his neck. “I hate to be the one to shit in your Cheerios, Riddick, but how do we know she’s, uh, not dangerous? I mean, I crossed paths with a cleaner once back in the day, and man, that dude was fucking nuts.”

  Riddick growled and took a menacing step toward Benny before Harper tugged him back to her side.

  Lucas took a few deep breaths to control his own irritation with Benny for asking such a thing before saying, “She’s not dangerous. She could’ve killed me, Vi, Daniels…hell, she could’ve killed every guard in that place today and she didn’t. After what they did to her…” he trailed off, taking a few more deep breaths. “Everyone is fine. She wasn’t ever out of control.”

  Hunter raised a brow at him. “Not ever? Your black eye is telling a different story. I’m sure there’s a doctor and at least a few guards at Midvale who’d disagree as well.”

  Mischa frowned at him. “She was defending herself. If I’d been in her place, I probably would’ve done the same thing.”

  Hunter chuckled. “My love, I have no doubt they would have been begging for mercy had you been in Seven’s place. But that’s not my point. My point is that after what she’s been through, I don’t think anyone here can evaluate how dangerous she may or may not be. You have to face the possibility that she could be…broken, for lack of a better term.”


  “Bullshit,” Lucas spit out. “She’s not broken. Talk to her for five minutes and you can see that. She’s strong and smart. She’s a fighter.”

  “Strong and smart people can be dangerous, too, man,” Benny added nervously.

  “She’s not dangerous,” Lucas said through gritted teeth.

  Hunter, still annoyingly calm, asked, “Are you willing to stake your life on that?”

  “Yes,” he said without hesitation.

  “And Haven’s life?”

  Well, that let the steam out of his argument right quick. Fuck.

  Everyone got quiet after Hunter dropped that little bomb on them.

  Vi was the first to speak up. “Look, I don’t think she’s an immediate threat to anyone. She understands the difference between right and wrong. She doesn’t want to hurt anyone, except Dr. Daniels, and honestly, I can’t fault her for that one. But she does seem to struggle with empathy.”

  “Like sociopaths,” Benny mumbled, then swallowed hard when both Riddick and Lucas shot damn-near lethal glares in his direction.

  Vi hastened to add, “She understands the concept of empathy, which is a good start. In that respect, she’s like a child. She’ll need to be taught how to understand and react to the emotions of others. I’m recommending she come to therapy with me, twice a week, for the foreseeable future.”

  “Has anyone thought through the logistics?” Mischa asked. “Where’s she going to stay? Does she even have…anything?”

  “I’ll get her whatever she needs,” Riddick said.

  Harper bit her lip. “That’s fine, but we don’t have an extra bedroom. She could sleep on the couch in the living room, but that wouldn’t be very comfortable, especially with Haven waking up every 4 or 5 hours to eat.”

  “I got an extra room,” Benny offered. “She can—”

  “No,” Riddick and Lucas interrupted in unison, then frowned at each other while Harper chuckled at them.

  Benny sighed. “It was the porn comment, wasn’t it?”

  “That, and you live in a crack den,” Mischa said with an eye roll. “I wouldn’t want her to visit your place let alone live there. No offense.”

  Benny matched her eye roll, and added a snort. “Yeah, how could I possibly be offended by that, Hotness?”

  “What about you, Misch?” Harper asked. “You guys have an extra room.”

  Mischa glanced up at Hunter and bit her lip before addressing Harper. “I didn’t get a chance to tell you, but the adoption agency approved our application.”

  Handshakes, back-slapping, and hearty congratulations ensued. Lucas stayed out of it. He knew how the adoption process worked and what Mischa was really trying to say. Anyone living in their house would have to submit to a thorough background check. And Lucas couldn’t think of a single agency that would be cool with giving a baby to a vampire couple who lived with an ex-Sentry cleaner who just happened to also be a longtime guest in a prison mental ward.

  “What about you, Vi?” he asked when the happy baby chatter died down.

  Vi shook her head. “If she’s to be my patient, I need to be a neutral party. Someone she can talk to about anything without fear of judgement. If she’s living with me, dependent on me for a roof over her head, she won’t be able to speak freely with me.”

  Riddick ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “We’ll have to find her an apartment. In the meantime—”

  “She’ll stay with me.”

  Lucas blinked. Shit. Had he said that out loud? Judging by the shocked looks on everyone’s faces, he guessed he did.

  Riddick’s eyes narrowed on him. “Why would she stay with you?”

  The emphasis he put on the word “you” was insulting. Lucas had a nice house—a four-bedroom ranch—in a safe neighborhood. It’s not like he had a criminal record or a heroin habit or anything. There were definitely worse guys Riddick could entrust his sister to, for fuck’s sake.

  There were certainly better guys, too. But Lucas saw no point in bringing that up.

  “Well, the rest of you aren’t offering up any solutions, just more problems,” Lucas said, jaw clenched. “Besides, she trusts me. In the short term, she’ll probably be more comfortable with me than with any of you.”

  Riddick opened his mouth to protest, but Vi cut him off. “He’s probably right,” she said. “At the prison, Lucas got her to open up better than I could’ve. He was the one who got her out of her cell. In her mind, he rescued her. It’s not surprising that she’s developed a bit of a…bond with him.”

  Shit, the way she said “bond” sounded really dirty for some reason. He hoped no one else picked up on that.

  Lucas clapped his hands together. “Great. It’s settled. I’ll let her know.”

  He ignored the murmurs behind him as he made his way to the door, stopping only when Riddick laid a hand on his shoulder.

  “Just be sure you don’t bond too much with my sister,” Riddick said in a menacing voice, low enough that only Lucas could hear.

  Yep. Riddick had picked up on the unintentional dirty comment as well. He should reassure the guy that he understood how much Seven had been through, and that he had no intention of taking advantage of her when she was so clearly in crisis. That’s what a gentleman would do.

  Lucas clapped Riddick on the shoulder bro-style. “I haven’t really had a quality bond in a while, if you get my meaning,” he said, conspiratorially. “And she is scary hot…” he paused, pretending to think it over. “But for you? After all you’ve done for me? I’ll do my best, man. No promises, though.”

  And with that parting shot, he left the office to find Seven.

  Guess he wasn’t much of a gentleman after all.

  He did his best not to laugh as Riddick cursed under his breath and muttered something about ripping Lucas’s arm off. At least he thought Riddick was talking about his arm.

  Yeah, being a gentleman was totally overrated.

  Chapter Nine

  Seven sensed he was behind her before he even said a word. Even if she was blindfolded, she could pick him out of a crowd based on nothing but the wild, raw energy and heat that rolled off him. She’d certainly never noticed that with any other shifters she’d encountered over the years. Maybe it was just a Lucas thing.

  Lucas moved in close behind her to look over her shoulder. “What are you doing?”

  Seven shushed him. “You’ll wake her.”

  When she left the room so everyone could talk about her, she changed into Harper’s spare clothes—Mischa’s were way too small for her—then found herself in Haven’s nursery.

  Haven had been asleep, one arm thrown up over her head, little snuffling snores occasionally escaping her open mouth. In her other fisted hand she clutched a fluffy…thing that had a teddy bear head and a small blanket for a body. It looked pretty strange to Seven, but the way Haven held it possessively against her cheek told her this was one of the child’s most prized possessions.

  At one point, Haven snored loud enough to startle herself awake, and Seven found herself gazing down into the most beautiful green eyes she’d ever seen. A little frown line appeared between Haven’s brows and Seven prepared herself for the scream the child was surely going to let loose. After all, there was a total stranger standing over her crib, watching her sleep. Who wouldn’t scream under similar circumstances?

  But after a moment of intense eye contact, Haven’s frown line disappeared, and she offered Seven a wide, drooly, toothless grin. Seven was so stunned she couldn’t even bring herself to smile back.

  Haven dropped her teddy bear blanket and reached for Seven’s hand, which was curled around the edge of the crib. The annoying lump of emotion Seven had been choking down all day reappeared with a vengeance as she moved her hand close enough that Haven was able to latch onto her pinky.

  Haven pulled Seven’s hand to her cheek and held it there, just as she’d held her precious teddy bear blanket. And with a deep, contented sigh, she fell back to sleep.

 
It was the most acceptance Seven had ever known.

  That had been about twenty minutes ago. She’d been standing there ever since, unmoving, watching Haven sleep the kind of deep, peaceful slumber Seven was pretty sure she’d never experienced in her life. The kind of sleep only someone who was loved and wanted and cherished could ever have. It was the sleep of innocence, of purity.

  If her mother had lived, would she have dressed baby Seven—or rather, baby Grace—in fleece footie sleepers with little cartoon ducks on them and tuck her in for naps with a cuddly teddy bear blanket?

  She felt Lucas’s breath on the back of her neck as he chuckled, and she shivered.

  “She’s really got a hold on you, doesn’t she?” he said quietly.

  If any other man had dared to get this close to her, she would’ve driven an elbow back into his gut to move him out of her personal space. But with Lucas? His nearness didn’t bother her. Quite the opposite, in fact.

  She’d only been part of a family for a few hours and she was already losing her edge. Great.

  “She woke up a little while ago and smiled at me,” she said.

  “Maybe she recognizes you’re family.” His voice took on a teasing note as he added, “Or, maybe she’s a sucker for a pretty face, just like her Uncle Lucas.”

  He thinks I’m pretty.

  Seven quickly tamped down the fluttery, girly feeling in her gut his casual statement had unleashed. Being pretty was nothing to be proud of. The arrangement of her features was nothing more than random genetics at work.

  Besides, the fact that they found each other attractive didn’t mean anything. Men like him surely didn’t have relationships with women like her. And even if they did, what the hell did she know about being in a relationship? It was highly unlikely she’d ever find the kind of love Riddick and Harper shared.

  “It just as easily could’ve been gas,” she said, ignoring the pain in her chest at the thought of never knowing what it felt like to have someone look at her like Riddick looked at his wife.

 

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