Semi-Human (Harper Hall Investigations Book 2)

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Semi-Human (Harper Hall Investigations Book 2) Page 11

by Jordan, Isabel


  Chapter Nineteen

  Mischa stepped into the elevator at Dresden Labs and lifted her glasses to rub the bridge of her nose.

  Damn, but being nice to Leon had zapped her energy.

  Hunter stepped in beside her—way too close, in her opinion. She subtly inched away.

  “Why the hell are you cowering away from me?”

  Shit. Apparently she hadn’t been subtle enough. “I-I’m not. I was just—”

  “You’re just cowering, as if I’m going to throw you against the wall and drain you dry.”

  If you ever throw me against a wall, dry won’t be a problem.

  She blinked. Shit, where had that thought come from? Even Harper would’ve found that thought completely classless.

  When she didn’t reply, he grabbed her upper arms and hauled her up against him, close enough that she could see a tangled mess of anger and hurt and frustration in his eyes. “I’d never hurt you, for Christ’s sake. If I wanted to, I could have done it twenty years ago. When are you going to realize that I’m not a complete bastard who doesn’t deserve you?”

  Oh, boy. How to explain that she already knew he’d never hurt her, and that she was the complete bastard in this scenario?

  But then again, he’d just argue with her. Maybe it was better to leave him with his delusions.

  She sucked in a deep breath, purposefully not looking into his beautiful eyes, and said quietly, “Never. I’m never going to realize that. There’s no way I could ever be with you.”

  The silence that followed was absolutely deafening. Mischa could hear the rush of her blood, could feel the lie burning on her tongue. After a thousand years or so, he let her go. Then he calmly turned away from her and…punched a hole through the elevator wall.

  The second his fist pierced that wall, the elevator ground to a halt and was tossed into pitch darkness. Mischa stumbled forward and had to brace herself against the door to remain upright.

  “You broke the elevator,” she accused, shocked.

  She couldn’t see him, but she could feel that he’d moved to the opposite corner of the elevator. “I broke more than that, I’d say.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Call someone. I’m betting the entire power grid for the city shut down.”

  She frowned. “That’s not possible. You probably just hit a wire or something.”

  But just in case, she pulled out her phone and dialed her neighbor, Mrs. Bianchi. It was seven o’clock, so Mrs. Bianchi would probably cuss her out for interrupting Jeopardy. The crazy old bat thought Alex Trebek was hot.

  “What?” Mrs. Bianchi snarled into the phone.

  Mischa smiled. “Hello to you, too, Mrs. B. Is everything OK?”

  “No, the power went out right before the Daily Double.”

  Mischa was nonplussed for a moment, but eventually managed to make minor chitchat with Mrs. B for a moment or two before disconnecting the call.

  And still, Hunter remained silent.

  She pulled up the flashlight app on her phone and aimed it in the corner. He was standing with one elbow braced against the wall and his forehead in his hand.

  “Um…did you really…?”

  He lifted his head and glanced back at her, one brow raised. “Did I shut down the power for the entire city? Maybe even half the state?”

  He’d said it so calmly, using the same tone someone would use when asking, “Would you like fries with that?”

  But the question was soooo much more complicated than that.

  “Did you?” she asked, doing her best to mimic his calm tone. And probably failing miserably, if the weird crackle in her voice was any indication.

  He sighed. “Yes. Happens when I lose control of my emotions. Fortunately, that hardly ever happens.”

  Jesus, if the city’s access to electricity depended on her keeping her emotions in check, everyone in town would have to adopt an Amish lifestyle. She wasn’t sure how he managed to keep that much power contained. “This has happened before?”

  He looked reluctant to answer, but eventually said, “A few times. Once last year.”

  After she ran away from him, she instantly realized. The power had flickered out the second she hit the lobby of her building, leaving him alone in her bed. It hadn’t been restored for hours.

  The fact that someone like her could make a man like him lose control…it was almost more than her brain—and heart—could handle. It was completely illogical.

  You don’t have time for this, her brain reminded her. You have to help Harper.

  Her heart spoke right up with, Leon will be working on the antidote as soon as the power’s back on. There’s nothing else you can do right now. Might as well bask a little in the glow of knowing he feels something for you.

  Never one to be outdone, her body mentioned sagely, There’s always time for a quickie.

  Way to keep it classy, body. Way to keep it classy.

  At least her heart and brain were in agreement on that one.

  Mischa eventually decided that she’d always listened to her brain before. Why stop now?

  “We can’t stay in here all night. Can you turn the power back on?” she asked.

  “I’m afraid it doesn’t work like that. When I’m in control, I can’t turn the power on or off. When I’m out of control, it’s more like an energy surge that overrides anything in its path.”

  Now she understood why he was enough of an expert on relaxation and meditation techniques to help Harper control her psychic ability. So, on top of being ungodly hot, he was also a good friend and, apparently, some kind of Zen master.

  There was really no getting around the fact that she’d been a shit judge of character all these years, believing every piece of crap lie Sentry ever told her, especially about Hunter.

  “The power will come back on when I’m completely under control again.”

  She lowered her head. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

  He tunneled his hands through his hair. “Don’t be sorry. Just tell me why you won’t give me a chance. I know there’s…chemistry between us.”

  Mischa snorted inwardly. Understatement of the year.

  “Give me one good reason why you can’t be with me,” he challenged.

  She did snort out loud this time. “I bet I can give you twenty.”

  He straightened and moved toward her, extending a hand. “I’ll take that bet.”

  She narrowed her eyes. This felt like a trap. “You want to bet that I can’t come up with twenty reasons why we shouldn’t be together?”

  “Yep,” he said, hand still extended. “If you can’t come up with twenty irrefutable reasons, you go out with me. A real date. Dinner, dancing, movie…whatever you want.”

  Shit, she hadn’t been on a date in so long she wasn’t sure what she liked to do anymore. Did she still even enjoy dancing? She used to. But she couldn’t really remember a Friday night in recent years that didn’t involve a good book and a hot bath.

  Not that there was anything wrong with that.

  “And what do I get if you lose?”

  “I’ll leave you alone. Forever.”

  The words hit her like a baseball bat to the chest. The thought of him just being gone from her life was…well, it was almost unfathomable.

  But that’s what she wanted. Wasn’t it?

  She swallowed hard, then took his hand. “Deal.”

  His answering smile was way more wolfish than she would’ve liked.

  Chapter Twenty

  Riddick quickly became the crowd favorite in the Arena. The cheering hit deafening levels when he entered. People chanted his number, and a few women tried propositioning him. The most brazen one wrote her phone number on her breasts, which she flashed at him when he entered the Arena for his second fight.

  She skulked away quietly when he pretended he didn’t notice. Or, maybe it was after Harper threatened to rip out the skank’s fake-ass hair extensions and strangle her with them.

  But anyh
oo, as Romeo had promised, the next two fights had been much more eventful than the first.

  The second fighter, a human with some serious ninja-like martial arts moves, managed to stay conscious for a full five minutes before Riddick caught his leg mid-kick and twisted, dislocating the knee.

  The third fighter was a wolf shifter. He lasted eight minutes. Riddick eventually got a hold of him and choked him out MMA-style, but not before the guy partially shifted and raked his claws across Riddick’s chest.

  “Do it,” Riddick growled, taking a deep swallow from the bottle of whiskey Harper had picked up after the fight.

  Harper had to look away as Romeo poked the needle through Riddick’s skin and started stitching him up. “Are you sure we shouldn’t go to the hospital?” she asked, feeling more than a little queasy.

  “Naw. Leave it to Dr. Romeo, Harpy. I got your boy toy covered.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Dr. Romeo sounds like a bad porno title, you jackass.”

  “Is there any such thing as a bad porno?” he asked, sounding genuinely confused.

  Harper ignored him. “Riddick, are you OK?”

  “I’m fine,” he said, voice tight with pain.

  Her vision blurred as tears filled her eyes. God, she hated this. Absolutely hated it. He was hurt because of her. Because of her stupid ex-partner and the stupid poison he’d pumped into her bloodstream. What if the next fighter managed to seriously hurt him?

  “I don’t want you to do this anymore,” she blurted out, turning to face him. “I think we should run. Mischa has a good lead on an antidote, and I say we take our chances with that.”

  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.

 

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