Semi-Human (Harper Hall Investigations Book 2)

by Jordan, Isabel

  Besides, he’d promised her that they were in this thing together, and here he sat, letting her worry about him. Alone.

  “Fuck,” he muttered, slamming the empty bottle back down on the bar. “I am a fucking dumbass.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  God, what Harper wouldn’t give for a minute or two alone.

  “Sweet merciful crap on a crust, it’s really you.”

  Harper winced as Leon’s nervous giggle devolved into a snort. “Yep, it’s really me.”

  She took a seat across from him and held out her arm so that he could wrap the tourniquet around it. “I feel like I’m meeting a rock star or something,” he said as he poked the needle into her skin and drained off a vial of her blood.

  Leon removed the tourniquet and Harper flexed her fingers. “Yeah,” she muttered. “A rock star. That’s me. I’m the freakin’ Joan Jett of the paranormal world. Poster girl for weirdos everywhere.”

  Mischa stepped forward and pressed a cotton ball against the needle puncture on Harper’s arm. “Do you have everything you need to produce the antidote now, Leon?”

  “Yep. I should have it ready tonight. By the time the fight’s over, it will be ready to rock.” His gaze shot to Harper’s. “See what I did there? Brought it back to rock ‘n’ roll?” He laughed/snorted again and played a few strings on his air guitar.

  Her eyes went wide and she gave him a short, slow nod to indicate that yes, she got the joke—and no, she wasn’t really amused.

  “Don’t say anything else,” Mischa advised. “You sound like a freakin’ moron.”

  Leon flinched and Harper instantly felt sorry for him. “It’s OK, Leon.” She patted his hand. “Thanks for coming out here for me, and for creating the antidote. I owe you one.”

  His face got a soft, dreamy look on it that made Harper distinctly uncomfortable. Fortunately, she didn’t have to say anything.

  “Gross,” Mischa muttered. “Quit thinking whatever it is you’re thinking.”

  Leon’s gaze snapped to hers. “I don’t work for you anymore, bitch. Back off!”

  Hunter was across the room and had Leon pinned to the wall by the throat before Harper could even track his movements.

  “I’ve warned you twice about that,” he hissed, fangs elongating as he leaned in, presumably to rip Leon’s throat out. “Now you’re just testing me.”

  Harper blinked. Wow. So this is what dating a vampire looked like, she thought. Apparently, shit tended to go sideways real fast.

  “Are you going to stop this?” she asked Mischa.

  Mischa seemed to think about it for a moment before grabbing hold of Hunter’s bicep. “It’s OK,” she said in a low voice. “Really. Please don’t kill him before he makes Harper’s antidote.”

  Hunter immediately dumped a coughing, gagging Leon on the ground. As if he hadn’t just almost ripped a guy’s head off, he gently cupped her chin and tilted her face up. “As you wish,” he whispered before planting a kiss on her that raised the temperature in the room a good twenty degrees.

  “Oh, don’t worry about me,” Leon said, struggling to his feet. “I’m fine. Really.”

  Mischa and Hunter ignored him as they continued to gaze into each other’s eyes. Even in her current foul temper, Harper couldn’t help but tear up a little. They really were beautiful together. The whole thing was crazy romantic.

  Leon gagged again and spit a wad of phlegm into the trash can by the door.

  And again, splat goes the romance.

  What was it about Vegas that just seemed to suck the romance out of every room?

  She sighed wistfully. “Riddick always tries to kill people who call me names, too.”

  If he was here right now, she decided, he’d scowl at Leon and look slightly nauseated by Hunter and Mischa’s display of emotions. But then he’d turn to her and the shadows in his eyes would disappear.

  Mischa tore her gaze away from Hunter and gave her a sympathetic pat on the arm. “He’ll be back. All he’s ever wanted was to keep you safe. Riddick wouldn’t abandon you now. He just needed time to think.”

  Leon blanched. “Riddick? Are you talking about Noah Riddick?”

  Mischa shot him a dark glare. “Well, she’s not talking about the damn Vin Diesel movie.”

  He ignored her. “You know Noah Riddick?”

  “The giant rock on her left-hand ring finger isn’t just for show, maggot,” Mischa said.

  Leon’s already-pasty complexion faded to an even whiter shade of pale, which pissed Harper off. “If you’re going to give me a speech about how Riddick is dangerous, I’m probably going to let Hunter kill you, or maim you at the very least.”

  Hunter grinned maniacally and Leon held up his hands in supplication. “N-no. I know he’s not dangerous to you. If he’s marrying you, then you’re probably the safest person on the planet.”

  Well, that was an exceedingly weird thing to say, she decided. She glanced over at Mischa, who just shrugged. “What the hell are you talking about, Leon?”

  He shook his head furiously and started backing toward the door. “I have no idea what I’m talking about. I’m just rambling, really. I do that sometimes when I think…someone might try and scalp me.” He shot an uneasy look in Hunter’s direction. “I certainly don’t know anything about Noah Riddick or anyone in his family.”

  Riiiggghhhttt. Leon might be a certified genius, but he was a piss-poor liar.

  Harper nodded at Hunter, who didn’t hesitate to grab Leon by the collar of his white button-down and toss him into a chair. She crossed her arms over her chest and narrowed her eyes on him.

  Mischa had told her Leon wasn’t easy to interrogate. He wasn’t susceptible to Hunter’s mind-reading ability. And considering he was a thief and a liar, the chances of her getting the truth out of him were slim to nil, because frankly, she was a shit interrogator. She supposed the interrogator gene skipped a generation.

  Her mother, on the other hand, had been the best interrogator Sentry had ever employed. Her empathetic gifts were so strong she didn’t even need to be in the same room with a subject to…

  Harper glanced over at Mischa. “Do you have your laptop?”

  She pushed her glasses up higher on the bridge of her nose. “Always. Why?”

  “Can you set up a Skype for me?”

  Mischa looked puzzled for a moment before understanding dawned. “Oh, yeah. Can do. Just give me a minute.”

  She leaned over and slapped Leon on the back playfully. “Leon, I think it’s high time you met my mother. I’m sure she’ll want to thank you for everything you’re doing to help me.”

  This time, her sweet words and tone didn’t seem to move Leon. He was too busy pissing his pants at the idea of being one-on-one with her mother, whose mad skills just happened to be the stuff of Sentry legend.

  And having survived one of her mother’s interrogations when she was thirteen and had skipped school to ride the bus to New Jersey and catch a Bon Jovi concert…well, she could safely say Leon was right to be pissing his pants. He didn’t stand a chance against Tina Petrocelli.

  Chapter Thirty

  A short time later, they knew more than they ever cared to about Leon Steinfeld.

  They knew about how he pushed his younger brother out of his treehouse when he was eight, causing the poor kid to break his leg. They knew about the time he shoplifted Axe body spray from Walgreens. They knew about the time his grandmother walked in on him jacking off to her JC Penney catalog. They knew the numbers and balances of the offshore Cayman Islands bank accounts where Leon hid his ill-gotten retirement fund.

  One short conversation with her mother, and the only things the poor bastard hadn’t confessed to were making Jimmy Hoffa disappear and killing OJ’s ex-wife.

  But most importantly, they knew a lot more about the Riddick family.

  Her mother patted her cottony cloud of bottle-blond curls with one hand as she frowned thoughtfully into her computer’s camera. “That young man has issues
, but he’s not really all that bad. I wonder if he’d like Selena?”

  Tina Petrocelli was a pro interrogator, a kick-ass cook, and the best empath in the United States, possibly even the world. She was also a damn-near perfect mother, and could hustle pool in a way that would make Fast Eddie Felson weep with envy. But matchmaking?

  Not. So. Much.

  “Ma, Leon is a criminal. He embezzled from his last employer and lives on credit card scams.”

  She seemed to think about that for a moment, then shrugged and said, “Meh, no one’s perfect. Even with the embezzlement and credit card thingy, he’s probably no worse than that last imbecile she went out with.”

  She wasn’t lying, Harper thought. Her cousin’s last boyfriend had been a thirty-five-year-old gaming geek who spent his days playing Call of Duty in his tighty-whities in his mom’s basement. He was also gay, but in Harper’s opinion, that was the least of the obstacles the guy would have to overcome to be a suitable boyfriend for Selena.

  “Did I get you enough information, dear? He’s hiding more, but in the timeframe you gave me, I think I got everything I could out of him without crushing what little spirit he has left.”

  Harper smiled. “You were great, Ma. You got me exactly what I needed. I’ll get the rest out of him tonight.”

  Even if I have to pull out his fingernails one by one and let Hunter scalp him to do it.

  “Alright, sweetie. Give my boy a big hug for me.”

  Harper fought back an eye roll. Ever since their engagement was announced, her mother had been referring to Riddick as her boy. Tina had always liked him, but now that a ring was on Harper’s finger? Shit, at this point, her mother probably liked Riddick more than Harper.

  “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 b
lood 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 already 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?”