The “please” damn near killed him. Lucas wrapped his arms around her, pressing her tight against his chest. “No more what, beautiful?”
“Needles,” she whispered. “Experiments. No more. Please.”
He closed his eyes as her words hit him physically, gnawing at his gut, knifing him in the heart. Jesus. So much pain.
You’re goddamned right no more.
Logically, he knew she was hurt and disoriented, and she wasn’t thinking clearly. This was a prime example of the PTSD Vi had warned him about. But she was clinging to him, trusting him to take care of her, and he wasn’t going to let her down. Not now, not ever again.
Lucas unhooked the little clip on her finger that was connected to the annoying beeping machine, and scooped her up, cradling her against his chest. He looked at Harper, who had tears in her eyes. “We’re leaving,” he said, even though his jaw was clenched so tight it hurt.
Harper looked like she might argue, but eventually nodded. “Do you want to bring her to our place? Riddick can probably take care of that head wound for her.”
He glanced down at the top of Seven’s head. She still had her face buried in his shirt. “Can you let Riddick help you?” he asked her gently.
Her grip on him tightened and she shook her head. “I just want to go home. I don’t want him to see me like this. Just please take me home.”
The nurse hurried forward and handed Lucas a small plastic tube. “Liquid sutures,” she explained. “Clean the wound—just use good old fashioned soap and water—and apply a little of this. The cut isn’t that bad. Head wounds just always bleed a lot. She won’t even need to come back for follow-up.”
The doctor threw up his hands. “No idea why I bothered with medical school,” he griped. “Guess I’m not needed here at all.”
Everyone ignored him.
Lucas let out a relieved sigh. “Thank you,” he said to the nurse, “for…understanding.”
The nurse’s smile was warm, if a little sad. “I’ve seen more than a few injured soldiers in my day.” When he didn’t respond, she asked, “She is a soldier, right?”
“Among other things,” he said. “Among other things.”
Chapter Twenty
Harper, Riddick, Mischa, Hunter, Leon, and Benny were all together when Harper called Lucas later that night. It sounded like Haven was there, too, banging on some kind of toy, squealing gleefully every so often. With all the background chatter, it sounded like Harper was standing in the middle of Main Street at noon. During a parade. When the circus was in town.
So, pretty much, it was a normal night at Harper Hall’s house.
“What do you have for me, Harper?” he asked.
“The fighters didn’t see anything, but a few of the witnesses Benny talked to said the shooter was a white male, dark hair, about thirty years old, anywhere from six feet tall to six feet three, and anywhere from 180 to 210 ten pounds.”
Fantastic. That narrowed it down to just about anyone in the world. “Vamp?”
“Human,” she said.
Huh. That was surprising. If that was the case, the shooter probably wasn’t a coven member of someone Seven had taken out when she’d worked for Sentry. So much for his best guess as to motive. “What else?”
“Well, not sure if this is helpful in any way, but one of the witnesses was apparently a gun aficionado and got a good look at the sniper rifle as the shooter was running away. Said it was a Dragunov.”
A Russian weapon, Lucas thought. Semi-automatic, designated marksman rifle. A weapon like that wasn’t just something the shooter had stumbled upon. It wouldn’t have been easy to find, and it wouldn’t have been cheap, which meant the shooter had a sniper rifle of choice that he’d gone to effort and expense to hunt down. He was a pro. And he hadn’t been fucking around. He’d intended to blow her head off.
Jesus.
Lucas heard Harper flipping through the pages of what was probably Benny’s notebook before she said, “And one witness said the guy had a weird tattoo on his forearm. Said it looked like a barcode.”
Well, now that could actually be useful information. Maybe he wouldn’t kill Benny after all.
“Ask him how she is,” Lucas heard Riddick demand in the background.
Harper’s muffled and somewhat annoyed reply: “She’s fine or else he’d be all wolfed out, tearing the city apart instead of calmly talking to me.”
He didn’t hear what Riddick mumbled after that, but he imagined it involved something about dismembering Lucas if anything happened to Seven on his watch again. That seemed to be Riddick’s current MO, at least. Lucas couldn’t really say he blamed him, so he said, “Harper, tell Riddick his sister is fine; she’s just resting. And put Leon on the phone.”
“Well, certainly, but only because you asked so nicely,” she replied tartly.
There was a shuffling noise on the line as Leon took the phone from Harper and said, “Yo, hey, man. How’s it hanging?”
Leon and Benny’s muffled laughter came over the line, letting him know the two of them had discussed Lucas’s Magic Mike moment in the alley with Seven. Awesome.
Suddenly feeling the weight of the day pressing down on him to the point that he could barely breathe, he released a weary sigh and said, “You studied her brain scans, right?”
“I did. Her brain chemistry is…” he paused and let out a lusty sigh “…fucking amazing. Artwork. She’s extraordinary.”
“You should see her,” Benny added. “Scary hot.”
“Like that chick in Spankenstein?” Leon asked.
“Hotter,” Benny said.
Thwack!
“Ouch!” Benny and Leon yelped in unison.
“Next time? I’m kneeing you both in the groin instead of just slapping the backs of your heads. No more porn talk!”
Lucas would’ve laughed at Mischa’s statement if he wasn’t currently the only one trying to stay on task. Shit like that lost its funny when he needed to focus.
“Leon,” Lucas asked, “why did the bullet hurt her this time? I saw her stop a bullet with her bare hands at the prison. This one shouldn’t have been able to hurt her.”
“Well, based on her brain scan and what I know about her gene pool, I’d be willing to bet she’s telekinetic.”
Lucas suppressed an eye roll. “Yeah, Leon, we figured that out when she threw a syringe across the room without laying a finger on it.”
“No, you don’t get it,” he replied. “Sentry didn’t have any cleaners with that kind of power. None that they knew of, anyway. I’m betting she doesn’t even know she has telekinesis. Throwing that syringe was probably an instinct. And that first bullet? I’m guessing she used her power without even realizing it to slow it down, then she just kind of plucked it out of the air. As a bystander, you wouldn’t have even noticed. It all would’ve happened too fast.”
Lucas rubbed his temple as he processed that new bit of crazy. “If the powers are triggered by some kind of survival instinct, why wasn’t she able to stop the bullet tonight? And why didn’t her instincts help her when she was in Midvale?”
“I have a theory on that,” Hunter said in the background. There was another shuffling sound as Leon handed the phone over the Hunter. “I know from training Mischa to use her telekinesis that emotion greatly impacts control. If she’s scared or emotionally overwhelmed, her powers can be unpredictable.”
Harper snorted. “Yeah, if by unpredictable you mean blackout-the-whole-city-during-the-finale-of-The-Walking-Dead epic failure.”
“Jesus,” Mischa muttered, “will I ever live that down?”
“No,” Harper answered.
Hunter ignored them and said, “I’m guessing that tonight, Seven was scared and was more concerned with protecting you than she was with protecting herself, so her power failed her.”
Lucas closed his eyes. He’d been afraid of that. The thought of her putting herself in danger intentionally to protect him was scary as all hell. He couldn’t let her do t
hat ever again. “And what about when she was at Midvale?”
“You said she was drugged, right? I’d have to think drugs would impact her powers, as well.”
Just thinking about the drugs and what had happened to her at Midvale had his wolf itching to break free again. Daniels better pray like hell that Lucas never saw him again.
“The good news,” Hunter added, “is that I can help her. I can train her to use her telekinesis whenever she wants to, instead of just waiting for her survival instincts to kick in. We can start whenever she’s feeling up to it.”
That was all fine and good, but Lucas doubted she’d ever need her telekinesis again. Not with him glued to her fucking side. Because he’d be damned if he was going to let anyone hurt her again.
Hunter handed the phone back to Harper and she said, “Riddick and I will find the shooter, Lucas. Don’t do anything stupid, OK?”
Stupid like hunting the fucker down himself and ripping out his damned throat? Watching and laughing while he bled to death in gut-wrenching agony? The thought hadn’t even crossed his mind. Except maybe a few…thousand times or so.
Lucas said goodbye to Harper without promising anything and went to check on Seven. Her door was cracked open. Careful not to make any noise, he edged through the door.
Seven lay asleep in her bed, curled on her side with her knees drawn up to her chest like a child. She looked so peaceful, all her battle-hardened edges softened by sleep. As she shifted, the sheet covering her body slithered down, baring one moonlight-gilded shoulder to his hungry gaze.
The sight of her in that bed shook him harder than he cared to admit.
A frown line creased her brow and she moaned softly. His heart constricted. It seemed like she hadn’t even been able to escape the day’s events—or her past—in her sleep.
He wanted nothing more than to crawl into that bed with her, hold her against his heart, and chase her nightmares away. Slay her demons.
But her safety had to come first. He couldn’t afford to get distracted. Her getting shot tonight had proven that to him. He’d been so distracted he hadn’t even sensed the shooter. If she’d been killed…
Don’t go there.
He’d let Harper do things her way. For now. And when Harper found the guy? That bastard would learn firsthand what an alpha werewolf was capable of.
Hunt.
Shred.
Trap.
Kill.
The shooter would never know what hit him.
Chapter Twenty-One
“You’re not beating me again.”
Seven ignored Mischa’s comment, which had been uttered through clenched teeth, instead choosing to keep her mind focused solely on the 500 pounds of free weights she was holding three feet off the ground behind her, using nothing but her telekinesis.
“Focus,” Hunter reminded his wife.
He reminded her to focus a lot, Seven noticed. Mischa’s emotions often got the better of her. Seven had no such problem. It was only her third day of training with Hunter and already, she had a fairly decent amount of control over her newly discovered talent.
Enough to beat Mischa, anyway.
Today, they were working in the completely tricked-out exercise studio in Hunter and Mischa’s building. He had the two women facing each other, standing no more than a few feet apart, while they each held their own set of weights off the ground behind them. Whoever dropped their weights first lost the challenge.
Mischa’s inability to focus didn’t mean she was weak. Truth be told, her powers were much stronger than Seven’s. And Seven was starting to feel like those free weights weighed a few thousand pounds instead of just a few hundred.
Seven’s hands started shaking and she could feel sweat breaking out on her brow. Time to end this. She did the one thing she knew would tip the scales in her favor.
Seven smirked at Mischa. A cocky, easy smirk that said, I can do this all day. Can you?
Mischa’s eyes narrowed on her and a growl of frustrated outrage ripped from her throat, followed by the deafening clang of her weights hitting the floor.
Seven let her own weights drop a second later and fell to her knees as her legs turned to mush. Mischa did the same.
Hunter gave them a slow clap. “Well done. Both of you. That was impressive.”
Mischa groaned. “It was not. I got my ass kicked. Again!”
Hunter hoisted his wife off the ground as if she was weightless and let her sag against him. “Do you know why?” he asked.
“I lost my focus,” she mumbled. “Again.”
He chuckled and brushed a loose curl off her forehead. “You thought you were going to lose, you got frustrated, and your focus drifted.”
Mischa pointed an accusing finger at Seven. “You baited me.”
Seven would’ve nodded, but her muscles weren’t responding yet. “Sure did,” she wheezed out.
It took a minute, but Mischa eventually offered her a somewhat reluctant smile. “Good one. But just remember, tomorrow is sparring day. Paybacks are a bitch.”
Seven looked forward to it. Sparring with Mischa was always an adventure. She sometimes sparred with Riddick and Hunter, but they tended to pull their punches, obviously not wanting to hurt her. Mischa had no such compunction, which made her an ideal sparring partner.
Hunter offered Seven a hand and pulled her to her feet. “That’s all for today. Do you need a ride home?”
“No, man, thanks anyway, but I’ve got her.”
Seven turned to see her brother strolling into the studio.
Or should she say, her babysitter?
It had been a week since she’d been shot, and Lucas had made sure she was under constant guard. She’d tried over and over again to explain to him that it wouldn’t happen again. She was ready for an attack now. She wouldn’t be caught off guard again, and she could take care of herself. Thanks to Hunter’s training, she was more capable than ever.
But Lucas was immovable.
When he wasn’t available to babysit her, Lucas made sure Riddick or Hunter was with her. She couldn’t even do a simple skip-trace with Benny without a hulking male shadow dogging her every step, which just made her targets run that much faster than usual.
But beyond the inconvenience and insulting implication that she was unable to protect herself, she was feeling…frustrated. Emotionally and sexually.
After that kiss in the alley—that full-body, mind-altering, soul-shattering kiss—she’d assumed that they’d pick up where they left off when they got home.
And where they’d left off was mostly naked.
Lucas hadn’t made a single move to touch her or kiss her since that night. The emotional wall between them was firmly back in place, and it pissed her off and hurt her feelings in equal measure.
Seven was jerked out of her musings as Hunter and Mischa said their goodbyes and left her in the otherwise empty suite with her brother.
“What’s wrong?” Riddick asked her.
“What makes you think something’s wrong?”
He gestured to her eyes and forehead. “You’re all scrunchy- faced again.”
She sighed and sat down on a rolled up exercise mat. Riddick sat next to her, waiting. He was patient like that. While Harper or Benny or Mischa would push her for answers, Riddick waited quietly for her to speak at her own pace. She really liked that about him.
“I’ve never had family before,” she began. “So, are there rules for what we can talk about and what we can’t talk about?”
“Well, I’ve never had family before either, but from what I’ve learned from Harper’s family, no, there are no rules. They’ll pretty much talk about anything with each other.”
Seven glanced over at him. “Can I talk to you about anything, Riddick?”
He thought about it for a second, looked a little nervous and nauseous at the possibility of deep conversation, then took a deep breath and said, “Yes. Sure. Whatever you need, Seven. I want to help. I’m here for you.”
<
br /> Truth. But that didn’t really surprise her. Riddick had never lied to her, and something told her he never would.
With that in mind, she took a deep breath of her own and blurted, “How do I get Lucas to stop treating me like a little kid and start kissing me again?”
Riddick opened his mouth, then shut it again, shaking his head slightly. Eventually he said, “OK, we’ll get to the kissing thing, but I need a minute to process that. So until then…um…how is he treating you like a little kid?”
“All we ever talk about anymore is how to secure wherever I’m going to be so that I don’t get shot. He never asks about my day anymore, or watches TV with me. He’s there with me, but…he’s not really there. Does that make sense?”
He frowned. “It sounds like he’s concerned about your safety, Seven. We all are. Aren’t you concerned about your safety?”
She shrugged. “Not really. A day didn’t go by with Sentry that someone didn’t try to kill me. And I’m in better shape to defend myself now than I’ve ever been. I don’t really understand why everyone’s so worried all the time.”
“This isn’t like when you were with Sentry,” he reminded her gently. “You’re with people who care about you. And when you care about someone, you worry about their safety. It’s just…what you do.”
“You worry about Harper’s safety?”
“Every damn day.”
“But she’s smart and capable and strong,” Seven said. “She can take care of herself.”
“I don’t want her to ever have to take care of herself.”
Seven glanced down at her clasped hands. “Because you…love her?”
“Yes.”
“And…you love me, too?” she asked, still looking at her hands.
He caught her chin with his index finger and tipped her head gently so that she could meet his eyes. He smiled at her. “Yes. I do.”
Her throat tightened around an annoying lump of emotion. “Do you think Lucas loves me?”
His smile drooped a bit. “I honestly don’t know, sweetheart. But he’d be an idiot not to.”
Harper Hall Investigations Complete Series Page 71