He blinked at her, seemingly immune to her sarcasm. “Why would anyone assume we were trying to create killers?”
Now she was confused. “Wait…what?”
“We didn’t create dhampyres to be Sentry killers. Pfffttt. Hell, no. We created dhampyres to defend humans. Serve and protect, you know? That’s why the good ones are so good. Haven’t you noticed a heightened protectiveness in Riddick?”
Well, that was a little bit of an understatement. He tended to threaten and or maim people who so much as disrespected her. “That’s part of being a dhampyre?”
“Only for the AB crowd. The others—”
“Yeah, yeah,” she interrupted. “They were a little off.”
He bit his lower lip and glanced at her from under his lashes. “Do you hate me now? Can we still be friends?”
She closed her eyes and rubbed her aching temples. “I’m not gonna lie, Leon, I’m not super happy about this. You screwed up royally. It’s possible that good people died because of the mistakes you made.”
He nodded sadly, letting his chin hit his chest. The air of pathetic around him was…well, pathetic. She sighed. “But your intentions were good. And you being here to help me shows that there’s a good person somewhere inside you just dying to get out.”
She waited until he raised his eyes to hers before adding, “I understand why you did what you did, and for what it’s worth, I forgive you. Of course we’re still friends.”
He grabbed her and pulled her into a hug that squashed the air right out of her lungs. “Oh, thank you so much,” he gushed into her hair. “I swear to God I’m going to turn my life around. I’m going to be a better person. You wait and see. I’ll do anything you want me to do to help Riddick.”
Harper disengaged from the hug and looked him square in the eyes. “You mean that?”
“Absolutely. Do you need me to do something now? To help you or Riddick?”
She took a deep breath. “Yes. I actually need you to hold off on that whole being a better person thing for a while.”
His brow furrowed for a second before an evil Grinch-like smile split his face. “That’s good. I have a feeling that being a good person is kind of overrated.”
Yeah, that was pretty much her opinion, too.
At least that’s what she was telling herself these days.
Chapter Thirty-One
A few minutes later, Harper dove for the door when she heard footsteps on the other side. When she practically ripped it from the hinges, she found herself face-to-face—or, face to shoulder, to be more precise—with Archer’s bodyguard.
Oh, boy. If this wasn’t just the cherry on top of the shit sundae that was her day, then she didn’t know what was.
So, in a situation like this, one might wonder how to handle an irate vampire. Pissing him off further would be ill-advised, obviously. Diplomacy was most likely called for.
Harper arched a brow at him. “Come for your sword, Sparky?”
Sadly, diplomacy had never been Harper’s strong suit.
He leaned down and hissed in her face like a snake, baring his fangs at her.
“Blech!” Harper wiped her face with her shirt sleeve. “Say it, don’t spray it, pal. That’s just gross.”
He reached for her throat, but missed the mark when she dodged out of the way and Hunter stepped up, punching him in the chest and knocking him back into the hall.
“This woman is under my protection, child,” Hunter said calmly, as if he hadn’t just tossed an angry vampire out of the doorway. “You’ll do well to remember that.”
Sparky’s fangs stayed on display, but he obviously knew when he’d been outclassed, because he immediately inclined his head, acknowledging Hunter’s superior age and strength.
One of the better qualities vampires possessed was a healthy respect for their elders. Humans could take a few notes on the matter, in Harper’s opinion.
Behind them, Mischa asked, “Am I under your protection, too?”
One corner of Hunter’s mouth tipped up in a smirk. “No. No protection required. You’re mine. You’ve been marked as such.”
Mischa’s hand flew to the small puncture wounds on her neck, and she blushed to the roots of her hair.
Harper rolled her eyes as they crossed the room toward each other and locked lips again. Okay, now this was getting ridiculous. She was happy for them and all, but geez, how long was this honeymoon period going to last? The sweetness factor was starting to ick her out a little.
She glanced back at Sparky. “What do you want?”
“He’s here with me.”
Harper frowned as Archer approached from further down the hall. Great. Just what she needed. She threw up her hands and muttered to whatever gods might be listening, “What, no locusts? No boils? Come on, it’s like you’re not even trying to smite me anymore. You’re just trying to irritate me to death.”
Archer chuckled. “You needn’t worry about plagues, Ms. Hall. I’m not here to harm you.”
Her chin dropped to her chest. She hadn’t told him her name. He’d apparently done some research. She’d hoped that once she got Riddick into the Arena, he wouldn’t really care enough to research who she was. Guess she’d underestimated how seriously Archer took someone marching up to his table and making his bodyguards cautionary tales.
Live and learn, she supposed.
Or in this case, maybe not.
“OK, Archer, let’s just cut the shit,” she said, suddenly feeling about a decade older. “What do you want?”
He looked around her, eyeing Hunter and Mischa with interest. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “No. And just so you know, they aren’t interested in your kind of games, either.”
He sighed wistfully. “Pity.”
She just raised a brow and stared at him until he said, “I’m here to inform you that the terms of our original agreement have changed.”
Behind her Mischa sputtered, “You can’t do that! You agreed to clear Romeo’s debt if Riddick fought and won. He’s winning. You can’t ask for more now.”
Archer smirked at her. “Did you expect the paranormal mafia to play fair?”
Harper listened, somewhat dazed, as Archer laid out his new terms. Riddick would fight his last match in the Arena and win, which would pay Romeo’s debt down by half. Then, Harper would pay off the balance as Archer’s personal psychic. And…whatever else he wanted until the debt was wiped clean. If they refused, Archer would have Riddick disqualified immediately for the meeting he had with his father.
So, not only had Archer figured out who they were, he’d apparently been following them for some time.
Awesome.
Eventually, while Harper remained silent, Hunter slammed the door in Archer’s face. She sank onto the couch and Mischa sat down next to her, sliding an arm around her shoulders.
“We’ll figure a way out of this. I promise.”
Harper shook her head. “I…this…we…”
Hunter took a step back. “Shit, she’s not going to cry, is she?”
Mischa looked concerned. “She’s not really a crier. Baby, are you OK? Talk to me.”
She stared down at her hands a moment before answering. “I’m so mad…my hands are shaking.”
Hunter looked confused, but relieved. “So, that means she’s not going to cry, right?”
Mischa pulled her arm away, eyeing Harper like a rabbit eyeing a hungry cougar. “Um…no. She’s definitely not going to cry. I’ve only seen her get so upset her hands started shaking once before.”
“And?” Hunter prompted.
“And…I’m kind of starting to feel sorry for Archer.”
“He doesn’t need your pity,” Harper muttered darkly. “He needs you to pray for him. I’m going to make him wish he’d never been turned. Then I’m going to take away everything he’s ever loved.”
“Then you’ll kill him?” Hunter suggested helpfully.
“
No, of course not. Dying is too good for him. I’m just going to make him wish he was dead.”
“Ah, man, this is so freakin’ cool,” Benny said, bouncing from one foot to the other around the kitchenette table. “It’s like Ocean’s Eleven, dude.”
Mischa leaned her elbows on the table and looked over the top of her glasses at him. “We’re taking down the paranormal mafia, not robbing a casino. How is that at all like Ocean’s Eleven?”
“It’s an epic caper, man, you know? Harper’s George Clooney and I’m Brad Pitt and—”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Lucas interrupted from his place on the couch in the living area. “No way are you Brad Pitt.”
Benny frowned at him. “Why the fuck not?”
Hunter stood behind Mischa, rested his hands on her shoulders and asked, “Have you seen you?” Lucas nodded in agreement.
Harper shot them a warning look. She knew she was in the minority, but she had a real soft spot in her heart for Benny Scarpelli and she didn’t want anyone picking on him.
Benny was a halfer, a rather unfortunate combination of wererat and vampire. Sadly, halfers had all the drawbacks and precious few of the benefits of either race.
And while Benny was far from a saint (he was a known liar, an accomplished cheat, and a suspected petty larcenist), but he’d managed to save Harper’s life last year, and now he was one of her best friends.
Sure, his sense of humor often leaned toward offensive and his grooming habits were suspect, but Benny was…well, he was family. Bless his crooked little heart.
“There’s no way you’re Brad Pitt,” Lucas repeated. “If this is Ocean’s Eleven, I’m Brad Pitt.”
Mischa rolled her eyes. “A vague resemblance to Brad Pitt before he started looking scruffy doesn’t make you Brad Pitt in this scenario. Don’t flatter yourself.”
Benny frowned. “Then am I Matt Damon? ‘Cause that’s still pretty cool.”
Leon smirked as he boosted himself up onto the counter in the kitchenette. “You’re the little Cirque du Soleil dude who could fold himself in half.”
Benny thought about it for a moment, then shrugged and said, “Yeah, I’ll take that.”
Lucas leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Then who am I?”
Harper rubbed her aching temples. Jesus, were they really having this conversation now?
“You’re Matt Damon,” Mischa said with a well duh tone.
He raised a brow at her. “Guess that makes you Julia Roberts.”
“Pfft, no way, man,” Benny said. “She’s way more Catherine Zeta-Jones than Julia Roberts. She’s all dark and mysterious and sexy as all…”
He trailed off when Hunter straightened and snarled at him, but offered a toothy grin and a little finger wave that made Mischa chuckle and Hunter back down.
Leon rolled his eyes. “She wasn’t in Ocean’s Eleven, loser. She was in Ocean’s Twelve.”
Benny ignored the comment and jerked a thumb in Leon’s direction. “Who’s this fucknut gonna be, Catherine Zeta-hotness?”
She considered it for a moment, before saying, “Andy Garcia.”
“No way!” Leon whined. “He was the bad guy. I’m not a bad guy! I’m here helping a friend, right, Harper?”
Harper let her head drop to the table. “Yes, Leon. We’re friends.”
He puffed up with pride and gave Mischa a satisfied smirk. “See? I’m not the bad guy.”
Benny rolled his eyes. “Fine. Whatever. If you don’t want to be Andy Garcia, who do you want to be?”
“Gandalf the Grey,” Leon said without hesitation.
“That’s fucked up,” Lucas muttered.
“No shit,” Benny agreed. “He wasn’t in Oceans’s Eleven. He was in that New Zealand midget and fairy movie.”
“I don’t care,” Leon said defiantly. “If she gets to be Catherine Zeta-Jones, I get to be Gandalf the Grey.”
Lucas stretched out and laced his fingers behind his head. “Fine. If that’s how we’re playing this, then I’m Batman.”
Benny’s eyes went wide. “Oooohhhh, cool. Then I’m Tony Stark.”
“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” Mischa began. “You can’t be—”
“Enough!” Harper shot to her feet, kicking her chair over in the process. “Everyone just shut the fuck up!”
They all blinked at her.
She pointed at Lucas. “You are totally Matt Damon, not Batman.” He frowned.
Turning on Leon, she said, “You are Casey Affleck.” His bottom lip stuck out in a pout.
She poked Mischa’s arm with her little finger. “You’re Julia Roberts, because I hated the second Zorro movie and Michael Douglas freaks me the fuck out.”
“You’re you, Hunter, because you’re far too mature to participate in this bullshit.”
He shrugged. “I had no idea what anyone was talking about anyway,” he muttered to Mischa. “The only Ocean’s Eleven I ever saw had Dean Martin in it.”
“Who am I, Harpy?”
She turned a severe stink-eye on Romeo, who was now lounging in the bedroom doorway, smirking at her. “You got us all into this fiasco, asshat, so you’re Gilligan.”
The cocky smirk dropped off his face.
Harper threw her hands up in a what-the-hell gesture. “Does that settle everything? Can we fucking go on now?”
Grumbles could be heard around the room, but everyone mercifully stopped talking enough for her to speak again.
“So,” Harper began, “I have a plan, but I need help working through all the details to make sure I’m not missing anything.”
Everyone’s nods of agreement were encouraging. Maybe now she had their full attention. She grabbed her pencil and notepad. “What are the barriers, as you see them, to getting Riddick, Romeo, and me out of the Arena tonight?”
Romeo leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. “Well, darlin’, I think it’s at least a little problematic that we don’t even know where the Arena is. I don’t know about you, but I can never see a fucking thing through those blindfolds, and I’m pretty sure they drive us to Utah, in circles, before we get there.”
Harper thought his sarcasm was uncalled-for, but wrote that down as number one on her list, which she’d titled, “how to fuck over the paranormal mafia and save the father of my future children.”
“Good,” she said. “Next?”
Benny raised his hand. Mischa rolled her eyes and said, “We’re not in homeroom, Benny. Go ahead and talk.”
He lowered his hand sheepishly. “Even if we knew where the Arena was, getting weapons in would be a problem since they have a butt-ton of guards and metal detectors.”
Number two on the list: butt-ton of armed guards.
Lucas spoke up with, “Even if Riddick wins, Archer doesn’t plan to let you out of there—which, if I’m not mistaken, will cause Riddick to lose his ever-lovin’ shit and tear the place apart, brick by brick.” He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “Can’t imagine that wouldn’t get him—and probably you—shot by one group or the other.”
Harper frowned and jotted that down as number three. Getting shot would definitely put a damper on the evening. And the mental picture Lucas had painted was disturbingly…plausible.
Mischa added, “Archer. He’s a problem all by himself. He wants you, and something tells me he’s used to getting what he wants. I’m thinking that even if you get away tonight, he won’t stop coming after you and Riddick.”
Number four: stupid, annoying, paranormal stalker.
Hunter shrugged. “I’ll just kill him. Problem solved.”
Leon snorted. “Mafia dudes are like cockroaches. Kill one and five more fight to take his place. If you kill him, someone else will have assumed his role in an hour. And whoever that is will expect to receive all of Archer’s assets—which in this case, includes Harper. Whoever takes over for Archer will definitely see the value of having his own psychic. Especially a hot one.”
All eyes shifted t
o him. Shit, Harper thought. I never would’ve thought of that.
He eyed the group nervously. “What?” he asked, chewing on his thumbnail. “I watch a lot of TV.”
Number five: paranormal cockroaches who think they have dibs on me.
She tapped her pencil on the notepad. “I’ve got this covered.”
Romeo snorted. “Do tell, George Clooney.”
“Danny Ocean,” Leon corrected.
“What the fuck ever, wizard boy.”
An eye roll flowed through the room like a group of football fans doing the wave at a big game.
“So,” Harper began, “Number one. Lucas, you’ll take care of this one. Pay our pretty little ring girl a visit at her day job and trail her to the Arena.”
Romeo shook his head. “She’s tricky, and wicked smart. She’s not going to let you follow her.”
Lucas raised a brow. “I don’t have to follow her. Once I have her scent, I can pick up a trail for everywhere she’s been in the past month.”
“Number two: Benny. This one’s all you. Once Lucas has the location, you shift into a rat and get inside. Open the doors up and let Lucas, Hunter, and Mischa in. You guys will wait until the guards arrive, then beat the crap out of them and take their uniforms. By the time everyone arrives, you guys will be in place and no one will even notice you’re not the usual guards. I’ve been in this place,” she said. “Trust me, no one is looking at the hired help.”
Benny saluted her. “Aye-aye, Captain.”
“What do we do about Archer?” Romeo asked. “Once the fight is over, he’ll make a grab for you.”
She smirked. “We’ll just have to make sure he’s too busy to notice me leaving. Hunter, when the Lykoi boss goes into his owner’s box, can you plant a suggestion with him that Archer is somehow planning to cheat or rig the fight?”
He nodded. “Shifters are generally fairly open to suggestion.”
“Hey,” Lucas snapped.
Hunter gave him a palms-up shrug. “Sorry. Sad but true.”
“That’s really smart,” Mischa murmured. “The Lykoi will confront Archer immediately after Riddick beats his fighter. Their people will join in. If we’re lucky, they’ll kill each other off, which will take care of numbers three and four on the list.”
Semi-Human (Harper Hall Investigations Book 2) Page 17