So, Nikolai went against every instinct he had and stayed compliant as he was pulled from the trunk, dragged into a building, and forced down onto a metal folding chair.
When the bag was ripped off his head, he found himself blinking up at Harper Hall.
“You know,” Riddick began casually as he moved from behind the chair toward his wife, “I’m not an expert on relationships and shit, but I think most wives ask their husbands to pick up stuff like milk and eggs on their way home.”
Harper crinkled up her nose. “Sounds boring as hell. Aren’t you glad you’re with me instead of one of those other wives?”
“Abso-fuckin’-lutely,” he answered, turning to drop a quick kiss on her mouth.
“Thanks for picking…this up for us, babe,” she said. “We have plenty of milk and eggs, by the way.”
He grinned at her. “Good to know. Your mom has the munchkin until tomorrow?”
“Yep. Like usual, she ripped her from my arms and told me not to show my face in her house until then,” Harper said with a scowl.
His grin turned predatory. “Hmmm. Whatever will we do with the house all to ourselves?”
Obviously the thought of what they could do to each other during the hours that Harper’s mother was caring for their daughter hadn’t occurred to her, because her mouth dropped open and she let out a breathy, “Oh, wow.”
Seven stepped into Nikolai’s line of vision and frowned down at him. “He has a split lip! Was that really necessary, Riddick?”
“Yes,” Riddick said without hesitation.
Seven shot Riddick a dirty look that had him shrugging in confusion at his wife as if to innocently ask, “What? What did I do?”
Harper just rolled her eyes while Seven said, “I’m so sorry, Nikolai. Are you OK?”
Nikolai felt an odd tightening in his chest as she continued to stare down at him, concern etched all over her pretty face. When was the last time anyone had fretted over his safety and well-being? Before his parents died and he was sold to Sentry? Probably. He couldn’t even remember.
“I’m fine, Семь,” Nikolai told her. “No one will hurt me.”
Riddick made a rude noise in the back of his throat. “First of all, you tried to kill my sister. Twice. So, you don’t get to have a cutesy nickname for her. Second of all, you’re awfully calm and confident for someone I just pulled out of the trunk of Harper’s car.”
Seven crossed her arms over her chest and glared up at her brother. “Семь is just Russian for Seven. It’s not a cutesy nickname. And if I can forgive him for trying to kill me, why can’t you?”
Riddick set his jaw mulishly. “You wouldn’t let me kill him when I wanted to. Fine. I can deal with that. But I don’t have to like him, and I don’t have to be nice to him.”
Harper waved a hand dismissively and shoved Seven and Riddick out of her way. “Just ignore them, Nikolai. I didn’t have Riddick bring you here to talk about your friendship—or whatever you guys call getting together every so often to beat the crap out of each other—with Seven.”
Riddick dragged a chair over in front of Nikolai’s. Harper smiled her thanks up at him as she straddled the chair backwards. When she turned her smile on Nikolai, it sharpened, and he had to fight the urge to recoil.
Harper had been a seer with Sentry. Seers always made him a little nervous. Nikolai could lie like a fucking champ, and could even control his heartrate and blood pressure, which was the best way to sell a lie to a dhampyre or vampire. But there was nothing anyone could do to block a seer. With one touch, they could see through any lie, any cover, any variation of the truth.
His whole life was a lie. He could hide who he really was from his employer, his PO, and even from Seven. But he couldn’t hide it from someone like Harper.
The truth that everyone failed to accept was that he was exactly who Sentry trained him to be: a killer. Irredeemable. Total unworthy of concern from someone as good and kind as Seven.
Or Violet.
Not that it mattered. Violet had made her feelings—or complete lack thereof—for him abundantly clear that morning. The ache in his chest, the constant feeling that he’d lost something vital to his survival—something he’d never really had, as it turned out—had plagued him ever since.
Just another side effect of his time with Sentry he’d have to learn to live with, he supposed.
“So,” Harper began, dragging the word out for several extra syllables, “we have a bit of a situation, Nicky. Can I call you Nicky?”
He offered her his sternest glare—a glare that had made grown men damn near piss their pants. “Not if you expect me to answer.”
Harper shrugged, seemingly impervious to his glare. “Someone is stalking one of my friends,” she said. “Trashed her house. Left her a few death threats.”
Nikolai felt his brow furrow. “I’m not stalking anyone.”
He didn’t add that he’d never be stupid enough to leave anyone death threats, either. Why the hell would you ever want to warn the person you intended to kill that you intended to kill them? That’d just make it easier for them to evade you and make your job harder.
But somehow he figured that additional information wasn’t something Harper needed—or wanted—to hear, so he kept it to himself.
Harper nodded. “Seven believes you.”
But you don’t, Nikolai thought. Not that he blamed her. If the situation was reversed, he wouldn’t believe her, either.
Riddick cracked his knuckles. “This is taking forever. Why don’t I just beat it out of him?”
Seven hauled off and punched her brother in the arm. Nikolai almost winced in sympathy. Like her brother, Seven hit like a freight train. Riddick would be feeling that punch all night.
“She hasn’t even asked him anything yet,” Seven hissed as Riddick scowled and rubbed the spot where she’d punched him. “That’s not how interrogation works and you know it!”
“Don’t make me send you kids out of the room so that the grown-ups can talk,” Harper said, not even a hint of irritation in her voice. Obviously this kind of familial bickering wasn’t foreign to her.
Seven and Riddick mumbled half-hearted apologies, and Harper shook her head fondly, then refocused her attention on Nikolai. “This friend of mine that’s being stalked? It’s someone you’ve stalked before, Comrade. Why should I believe you’re innocent this time?”
Violet. She was talking about Violet.
The thought of someone threatening Violet, of her being in danger, made every dark, violent urge he’d ever had rise up from deep within him. “Is she safe?” Nikolai asked through gritted teeth, completely unable—despite his best efforts to control himself—to keep the anger and heat from his tone.
Harper tipped her head to the side and studied him through slightly narrowed eyes for a moment. “Hmm. It’s really not you, is it?”
“God damn it,” he gritted out. “Just fucking tell me. Is she safe or not?”
“Hey,” Riddick growled, turning his barely pent-up rage back on Nikolai. “Use that tone with her again and I’ll rip your spleen out through your nose, asshole.”
Nikolai ignored him, keeping his attention on Harper, who merely offered him a benign smile and said, “She’s fine. For now. But she needs a bodyguard until we figure out who’s after her.”
She’s fine. Nikolai let those words sink in, and when they did, he let out a relieved breath. Thank God. “Who’s with her now?”
“Benny,” Seven answered.
And just like that, his relief was smashed into a million fucking pieces. He spit out every Russian curse he knew in one long, irritated breath. “Jesus Christ, you left her safety to the halfer? What the hell were you thinking? He can’t look after himself, let alone Violet.”
Harper shrugged, completely unfazed by the violence in his tone. “I was thinking I didn’t have anyone else who could do the job. But now, I might have an idea.”
“Tell me,” he growled.
She leaned forward and her g
rin—which was starting to really piss Nikolai off—grew even wider, almost predatorial in a way that made him decidedly…edgy. “I will. But first I have one question for you.”
Chapter Five
“Good news, babe. I found you a bodyguard.”
Violet sighed with relief as she watched Benny toss peanuts up into the air, then try to catch them with his gaping mouth. He missed more than he succeeded. “That’s great,” she said into the phone. “Thank you so much for doing this.”
Harper chuckled. “Don’t thank me just yet. You might not be entirely happy with my choice.”
Violet glanced over at Benny. Could her new bodyguard really be any worse than the guy who’d just spent the last hour letting greasy peanuts hit her white sofa while trying to explain to her which Kardashian was “the smart one?” All while she cleaned up her apartment and he not once offered even the slightest bit of help? The mind boggled at such a notion. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. Who is it?”
“Let’s just say it was a…nontraditional choice.”
Violet frowned. “Oh. Is it a woman? Seven maybe? Because I’m totally OK with taking Seven to the wedding as my date. I’m pretty sure half my family suspects I’m a lesbian anyway, and she’s probably hot enough to get me out of the singles table for life.”
“No, it’s not Seven, but it is someone she recommended,” Harper evaded.
“Harper, you’re starting to make me nervous.”
Another laugh. “Yeah, I get that a lot. He should be there any minute. Just keep an open mind, OK?”
She was about to remind Harper that she was a psychiatrist who specialized in treating paranormal patients, and that minds didn’t really get more open than Violet’s. But the doorbell rang, so Violet decided to hold her tongue for the moment.
“Hang on a second, Harper,” she said.
“Sure thing, babe. Remember, open mind. Really, really open, OK? Like, wide-open, free-range, huge-Montana-cattle- country open, you know?”
“All right, all right,” Violet muttered, swinging the door open.
Violet took one look at the man who was standing in her doorway, holding a duffel bag, looking like he intended to stay a while, and slammed the door shut in his face. To Harper she said, “No way in hell.”
Harper sighed. “I told you to keep an open mind.”
“There’s open and then there’s…gaping like a giant wound, Harper,” Violet hissed. “I can’t have him here!” She started pacing the length of her living room. “Oh my God, I can’t take him with me to my sister’s wedding!”
Jesus, just the thought of him—all big and tall and disturbingly good-looking and smelling so delicious—in her space, her domain…no. It couldn’t happen. She’d just kicked her Stockholm syndrome, for God’s sake! She couldn’t invite him back into her life now!
Crap, she was starting to hyperventilate just thinking about it.
“Whoa, doc, you gotta calm down,” Benny said, then pressed something into her hand. “Here, take a few deep breaths into this bag.”
Violet shot him a grateful look and shoved her mouth and nose into the bag, inhaling deeply. Everything would’ve been fine at that point if the bag Benny handed her hadn’t been full of mini powdered doughnuts.
Slowly pulling the bag away from her face, she fixed Benny with what she could only hope was a death glare. He merely chuckled and swiped a bit of powdered sugar off her nose with his pinky.
“Well, doc,” he said, “you look like you’ve been snorting coke, but at least you’re not hyperventilating anymore. You’re welcome.”
And with that, he swaggered back over to her couch, flopped onto his back, and reached for her remote, presumably to pick up where he left off in his reality TV marathon.
“Look, Vi,” Harper began, “I know that working with him isn’t going to be super comfortable for you.”
Violet snorted. Comfortable? All bow down to Harper Hall, Queen of Understatement.
“And if after you hear me out, you still want to send him away, I can send Riddick over to take Benny’s place. Hell, I’m sure I can even convince him to fawn all over you at the wedding and pretend to be the best date ever.”
Violet let out a deep, relieved breath. Well, thank God. She had an out. All she had to do was hear Harper out, then politely decline and have her send Riddick over. Done and done.
“This isn’t the first time I’ve assigned bodyguards to a client,” Harper said. “And every time, I have one question I ask the potential guard. All I want to know from them is this: Would you take a bullet for the person I’m asking you to guard?”
Wow, that question certainly put the whole bodyguard thing into perspective. She’d never really considered the possibility of someone getting hurt while trying to protect her. More honestly, she hadn’t let herself consider that possibility. It was just too horrible to fathom.
“So,” Harper went on, “you had no shortage of people who would protect you, which is nice. But when I asked Riddick the question, he shrugged and said, ‘I guess so.’” She chuckled. “Not really the level of commitment I was looking for, you know? Seven, on the other hand, immediately said she’d take a bullet for you, and I believed her 100%. But trust me when I tell you that you would not want to deal with Lucas and Riddick if something were to happen to Seven while she was trying to protect you. The ensuing alpha male drama and angst would be absolutely exhausting.”
Violet had to agree with Harper on that one. Between Seven’s husband and her big brother, Violet couldn’t really say who was more protective, mostly because they were both scarily protective of their girl.
And while she totally appreciated Seven’s willingness to take a bullet for her, Violet wouldn’t ever put her former patient in the line of fire. Seven had worked too hard for her happily-ever-after to have anything ruin it now.
“Mischa and Hunter would do it in a heartbeat,” Harper said, “but I didn’t want to ask them. With everything they’re going through to adopt, I didn’t want to put anything else on their plate. And I assume Lucas would also take a bullet for you, but I had to ask him the question three times because he was too busy staring at his wife’s legs to comprehend. So, that automatically ruled him out. ADD and bodyguards do not mix.”
Violet closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. She had a sinking suspicion where Harper was going with this train of thought and she didn’t like it. Not. One. Bit. But still, she couldn’t stop herself from asking, “And what did Nikolai say when you asked him?”
“He didn’t even hesitate. He said, ‘I would die for her.’”
I’d do anything for you.
How was it possible that those words filled her with unfathomable joy and unmitigated dread all at the same time? She was in trouble, and he was willing to do anything to protect her. It was humbling. And exciting. But given their history together, could she really believe he wasn’t just as big a threat to her well-being as her stalker was?
Violet let out a frustrated growl. “And I suppose you believe him?”
“I do. He was all clenched jaw and flashing eyes when he said it. I’m convinced he meant every word. It was actually kind of hot.”
Of that Violet had no doubt.
“But, like I said, it’s up to you, doc. I can send him away and put Riddick on the job in his place. I have every confidence that Riddick would keep you safe while I figure out who’s after you. But honestly? If I was in your Prada pumps? I’d choose Nikolai.”
Oh, God. This whole crazy-pants nightmare of a plan was actually starting to make sense. What the hell was the matter with her? “Harper, why would he want this job? You talked to him. Did he give you any clue as to why he’d be willing to”—gulp—”take a bullet for me?”
“I have my theory,” she hedged. “But I don’t think it really matters. I believe he wants to protect you. Whether that’s because he feels guilty about how he treated you in the past, or because he has some kind of other feelings for you…what difference do
es it make? Whatever his feelings and reasons are, I think you should use them to stay safe.”
Use his feelings for a change. That was an interesting concept. Considering all he’d put her through, maybe protecting her now was kind of the least he could do.
“And there’s something else I think you need to take into consideration,” Harper said.
“What’s that?”
“Well, I can’t be certain,” Harper added, her voice taking on a teasing note, “but I’m betting he looks fuck hot in a suit, and since he’d be your date at the wedding, I’m thinking that’d be an added bonus.”
Now, that just wasn’t playing fair at all.
Violet groaned. “Harper, if I agree to this, do you promise to make my case a priority and find this guy as quickly as possible?”
“Pinky swear, sister,” she shot back.
And after another minute, the call was done and the deal was brokered, leaving Violet vaguely feeling like she’d just sold her soul to the devil.
When she opened her door, she found that Nikolai hadn’t budged. There he stood, duffel at his feet, arms above his head, crossed wrists braced on the top of her doorframe. She refused—refused, damn it—to notice the lovely things the position did for his triceps.
She had a million things she wanted to say to him. Conditions of this arrangement she wanted to lay out. Thoughts and feelings she wanted to make perfectly clear. But every word she could’ve uttered dried up under the intensity of those green eyes as he stared down at her.
So, in the interest of not blurting out anything embarrassing, she crossed her arms over her chest and stepped aside so he could come into her apartment.
He took his time picking up his bag and stepping inside, almost like he was giving her a chance to change her mind. But while he was polite enough to give her a little time to think, he went the complete opposite route with her personal space.
He walked into the foyer and stopped close enough to her that she had to crane her neck back to meet his gaze. The heat she felt rolling off him in waves and the clean, masculine scent of his skin made her stomach clench with the desire to wrap her arms around his waist and press her nose into the space where his neck and shoulder met.
Harper Hall Investigations Complete Series Page 83