And she’d probably think his alibi—that he’d stayed up all night watching her sleep—was just as creepy as what she thought he did.
“He needed to die. He would’ve come after her again and again.”
Riddick raised his glass and tossed his beer back in two swallows. Hell, he didn’t need Hunter telling him what would have happened if Phoenix had gotten away. He knew Harper never would’ve been safe again. But knowing didn’t make it easier to have Harper look at him with fear in her eyes.
“You could tell her you didn’t kill him,” Hunter said quietly. “She’d believe you.”
“I doubt it, pal.”
“She has more faith in you than you have in yourself.”
Misguided faith, to be sure. “And how are you so sure of that? You read her mind too?”
He laughed out loud. “I’ve been alive a very long time, my friend. Nothing scares me…except the inner workings of Harper Hall’s mind. I wouldn’t venture in there for all the money or power in the world.”
Riddick could certainly relate to that.
“Besides,” Hunter went on, “Harper’s feelings for you are simple. Your feelings about her…those are a little more complicated.”
Understatement of the year, Riddick thought. He couldn’t think straight when he was with her, and he couldn’t breathe when she wasn’t around. He wanted to touch her more than he wanted his next breath, but was terrified he’d never be able to stop if started. Were there even words to describe that kind of cluster-fuck of emotions?
Hunter laughed. “The word you’re looking for? I think it’s love.”
Riddick snorted. Right. Love. Like he was even capable of something like that.
Hunter’s expression turned serious. “Being a natural doesn’t make you incapable of love. It just makes you…unpredictable.”
He turned incredulous eyes on the vampire. “If I remember correctly, naturals used to be a secret.”
“I read a lot of very interesting minds these days.”
Even someone as uninvolved as Riddick could see what was going on with Mischa and Hunter. “You know that if you hurt her friend, Harper will crucify you.”
“I’d be similarly careful not to hurt Harper, or Mischa will do the same to you.”
Riddick sighed and laid a wad of bills on the counter to cover his tab and Hunter’s. It hadn’t escaped his attention that a vampire was giving him advice on how to manage his love life. Before he met Harper, he probably would’ve killed Hunter before any words could have been exchanged.
Hunter chuckled. “You would’ve tried, my friend.”
Chapter Thirty-five
When Mischa showed up at Harper’s door later that evening, she was carrying two large pizzas in one hand, and a dog that looked shockingly like Cane in the other.
Harper took the pizzas and let her in, then raised a brow at the dog. “I thought her family came for her. What happened?”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Mischa said, her tone booking no room for argument.
Harper shrugged as Mischa settled Cane on the sofa.
Over the course of the next twenty minutes, they devoured both pizzas, a bag of baked potato chips, and four Diet Cokes. Nothing like stress to cause two Italian women to really lose their food inhibitions.
“And then he left without another word.”
Harper slid a butter knife into her cast and almost moaned aloud when she scratched an itch that had been plaguing her all day.
Mischa stared in mute horror at the knife for a moment, then shook her head. “So, now you think that Riddick is a cold-blooded killer.”
She eased the knife out of her cast and rolled it idly between her thumb and forefinger. “Of course not. As soon as he walked out the door I realized I was being an idiot. I trust Riddick, but…I don’t know. When I thought about him cutting Phoenix’s heart out, I got to thinking about what you said about naturals, and I guess it weirded me out a little.”
Mischa glanced down at her folded hands. “I don’t think he killed Phoenix. I think…I might’ve been wrong about Riddick,” she whispered.
Harper blinked and lifted her gaze skyward. Mischa Bartone admitting she could have been wrong about something was surely a sign of impending apocalypse, and fire and brimstone should be raining down from the heavens any minute. But when flaming meteors failed to crash through her ceiling, Harper regrouped and asked, “What are you talking about?”
Mischa’s dark eyes were tortured as she met Harper’s gaze. “Sentry lied to me about Hunter, which means they could have lied about any number of things. I’m just not sure what to think about Riddick and the other naturals anymore.”
“What do you mean they lied about Hunter?”
“False information. The files they gave me, the detailed files about his victims…they were all lies.”
“I’ve been telling you for years that they were wrong about Hunter. What makes you think that I’m right now, after all this time?”
“It was all in Hunter’s eyes. He was telling me the truth.” She shook her head. “God, I have great instincts. What’s so ironic about this is that Sentry taught me how to best use my instincts, and I never used them to question my orders.”
Harper could see Mischa beating herself up, and it was painful to witness such a confident, self-assured woman begin to doubt herself so completely. “I’m willing to bet that the biggest majority of the vampires Sentry ordered us to eliminate deserved it. Hell, all the ones Romeo and I killed were for sure complete bastards. You can’t assume you were lied to about everything.”
Mischa smiled weakly. “You sound like Hunter.”
Harper’s ears perked up at the mention of Hunter. Or more accurately, her ears perked up when they failed to detect the usual contempt Mischa held in her voice when she spoke of Hunter. “So, Riddick tells me Hunter was with you the whole day after I was kidnapped.”
Mischa neither confirmed nor denied, just stared at her clasped hands, which was very unlike her. And a blush had started to glow in her cheeks. Very unusual.
Harper narrowed her eyes thoughtfully on her friend. “What’s going on, Misch? What happened with you and Hunter? And why is Cane back?”
At the sound of her name, Cane lifted her head, thumped her tail a few times, and gazed adoringly at Mischa before snuggling back into the couch cushions.
Mischa cleared her throat. “After Cane’s owners came for her, I was…sad. The next day, they brought her back saying they’d decided to get a puppy. They said they didn’t want her anymore.”
Harper glanced at the dog. No way had anyone decided they wanted a puppy rather than this adorable sweetie. And then it occurred to her that Mischa hadn’t mentioned Hunter at all in her account of how she’d gotten the dog back. She’d purposefully not mentioned him. Why, if Harper didn’t know better, she’d think…
Harper drew in a sharp breath and stabbed her index finger at Mischa. “You two had sex, then he gave you a dog!”
Mischa sucked in an equally sharp breath. “We did not!” She twisted her fingers together. “But, I think he used mind control on Cane’s old owners to make them think they didn’t want her anymore. That’s the only explanation that makes sense.”
Harper narrowed her eyes on her friend, noting the deepening blush and guilty expression. Maybe not sex, but, something…
“But you did something, right? Making out and stuff?”
She shifted her gaze firmly back to her hands.
Harper laughed and clapped her hands. “Holy crap, Misch, good for you.”
Mischa groaned and let her forehead drop to the table. “Not good for me. Terrible for me. What the hell was I thinking?”
“Maybe for once you weren’t thinking. That’s not a bad thing, kid. Especially when it puts you in bed with a hottie who can’t possibly give you herpes or AIDS.”
Mischa lifted her head, the furrow between her brows telling Harper she hadn’t even thought about just how safe sex with a vam
pire would be: no pregnancy, no disease. Taking up with the undead definitely had its perks. Not to mention the preternatural stamina Hunter surely possessed.
Harper knew it was crass, but she couldn’t help but ask, “So, what are we talking about here? Naked skin on naked skin?”
Mischa nodded sadly.
“Naked…um, important parts…um…touching?” she improvised, not able to bring herself to say the word penetration in front of her usually prim friend, but also totally unable to let the subject drop.
Mischa shot her a glare and looked like she might refuse to share any details, but after a few moments, she said, quietly, miserably, “Important…part halfway in.”
“Shut up! And who stopped, you or him?”
“Me.”
Wow, that either took serious willpower or serious stupidity. “And he stopped…willingly?”
Mischa’s lips compressed. “Well, he certainly wasn’t happy about it, but yes, he stopped when I asked him to.” She groaned. “More proof that he’s not anywhere near the monster Sentry made him out to be. God, how could I have been so dumb?”
“About Sentry, or about almost having sex with Hunter?”
“Both. Especially the later.”
Harper would’ve taken Hunter to bed herself a hundred times if he’d ever shown an iota of physical interest in her, so the only part of the story that struck her as dumb was the almost.
She shook her head. Mischa had no idea how many women would love to count having almost sex with Hunter among their problems. “It’s not the end of the world, Misch. You almost had sex with a really hot guy who’s been obviously crazy about you for years. And now that you know he’s not a killer, I don’t see the problem.”
Mischa’s hands clenched and frustrated tears sprang to her eyes. “You don’t see the problem with an almost forty-year-old woman getting naked with a five-hundred-year-old vampire who was turned when he was twenty-five?”
Oh, OK. Now she got it. Harper probably understood better than anyone. She always fought the urge to suck in her stomach around Riddick. “So, what, he saw you naked and recoiled in horror at the sight of your decrepit old body, right?”
She almost growled in response. Now that was the Mischa Harper knew and loved. “He didn’t have any complaints,” she said through clenched teeth.
“And how did he look naked?”
For just a moment, Mischa’s expression relaxed and she smiled ever so slightly, as if indulging in an extremely pleasant daydream. Harper grinned at her, and Mischa could no longer hold back a grin of her own.
“Misch, you gotta relax. Go with the flow. Don’t worry so much about what’s going to happen when you’re old and gray and Hunter is still buff and hot.”
“Go with the flow,” Mischa repeated as if she’d never heard the words.
Harper nodded. “No one is saying you have to marry the guy. Have some fun. Look, I’ll tell you what. I promise to help you follow your heart and instincts a little more, and you help me understand this whole thinking-logically thing.” She stuck her good hand out toward her friend. “Deal?”
Mischa smiled. “Deal.”
“He used mind control to get you a dog so that you wouldn’t be sad anymore.” She shook her head and sighed. “You might not be aware of this, but that’s romantic. In a criminal sort of way, that is.”
She scowled. “I already agreed to try, Harper. Don’t push your luck.”
“Can’t help it,” Harper answered. “It’s what I do best.”
Mischa’s heart started beating double-time when Hunter opened the door and braced an arm on the frame. Thank God he had a shirt on this time. Her heart could only go so fast before it gave out.
She didn’t wait for him to invite her in, or get out of the way, for that matter. The fact that she was able to walk right under his arm without ducking was a little embarrassing, but she chose not to dwell on it.
Hunter shut the door and turned toward her as she set Cane on the floor in front of an oversized navy blue sofa. She wasn’t ready to look at him just yet, so she took the opportunity to check out his apartment.
She hadn’t really looked around when she was here with Lisa, Harper and Riddick (Hunter’s lack of shirt had been too distracting). The place was nice, she realized with some surprise. Very masculine, full of dark colors and natural materials. A few very old, very authentic-looking Native American artifacts decorated the walls. It was homier than any bachelor pad she’d ever seen.
“I’m nearly five-hundred-fifty years old, Mischa. Did you really expect my home to resemble a frat house?”
Wow, she really loved hearing him say her first name instead of Miss Bartone. It was…intimate, somehow.
“I think we’re beyond formality, don’t you?” he asked quietly.
She blinked. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to you reading my mind.”
He lowered his head and crossed his arms over his chest. “I apologize. You shouldn’t have to get used to it. It’s rude of me to read your thoughts without permission.”
She shook her head. “I didn’t come here for an apology.”
“Why did you come?”
The emphasis he put on the word come made her snort. “You can make anything sound dirty, can’t you?”
He smiled. “It’s talent. God-given talent.”
The smile reminded her of the last time she’d seen him smile. He’d been on top of her, looking down into her eyes with an intensity that had stolen her breath. He’d told her that he’d waited for her for so long, and started easing into her…
That had been about the time she’d panicked. Shoved him off her, grabbed her clothes and ran—literally ran—for the door. She was sure he would’ve followed her if it hadn’t been the middle of the afternoon. He’d called after her, though. The sound had clawed at her heart and brought tears to her eyes.
“Why are you here, love?”
She startled at the sound of his voice, and he added, “You’ve no reason to fear me.”
Mischa carefully blanked her mind. Better that he think she was afraid of him than realize the truth. And the truth was that she didn’t fear him one little bit.
It was only her complete lack of self-control where he was involved that really scared her.
She cleared her throat. “I heard some things on my police scanner.”
He cocked his head to one side. “What kind of things?”
“There’s some evidence to suggest that Phoenix cut his own heart out.”
His face went completely blank, which was her first clue he was hiding something. Hunter normally had one of the most expressive faces she’d ever seen.
“Obviously he wouldn’t have cut his own heart out. Right?” she asked carefully.
“It seems unlikely that he would’ve done it willingly,” he answered, equally careful in this wording.
Willingly was the key word, she thought. An extremely powerful, extremely old vampire could easily make a younger vampire do pretty much anything against his will.
Even cut out his own heart.
“Why’d you do it? For Harper?”
He moved toward her and she forced herself to stand her ground. Eventually, he was close enough that she had to crane her neck to meet his gaze. “I like Harper,” he said. “But I wouldn’t kill for her.”
“Then why?”
His eyes moved over her face, pausing briefly on her lips before lifting to hers once more. “You love Harper. You’d be devastated if you lost her.”
Mischa swallowed hard. “You did it for me?”
“Yes,” he said, then sighed. “So, I imagine this is the part where you call me a killer and tell me to stay away from you.”
A month ago, that would’ve been true. But now…
Without a second thought, she hooked her hand around his neck and yanked his head down before kissing him hard on the mouth. He stilled for a moment, but recovered quickly, wrapping his arms around her waist and returning her kiss.
&nb
sp; Using every ounce of her tattered self-control, Mischa broke the kiss and backed away. If she didn’t go now, she never would. And she just wasn’t ready to stay. Not yet.
She scooped up Cane and headed for the door. With her hand on the doorknob, she glanced back at Hunter, who looked almost comically stunned. Ungodly hot and turned on, but stunned.
“Thank you,” she said whispered before letting herself out.
Chapter Thirty-six
Much later, Harper jerked her head up and shoved her hair out of her face to find Riddick sitting across from her at her kitchen table, staring at her with an expression somewhere between amusement and bemusement.
“You’re back,” she whispered, then cringed, realizing she’d just stated the obvious.
Wordlessly, he plucked a piece of pepperoni out of her hair and laid it on the table in front of her. She felt herself blush to the tips of her toes. That’s what she got for falling asleep on her leftovers.
She cleared her throat. “Look, I owe you an apology.”
His brow furrowed. “Why would you owe me an apology?”
“I got a little freaked out when Lucas was here earlier.”
He shook his head. “You don’t have to—”
“No, I do.” She took a deep breath. “The fact of the matter is that I don’t care what happened to Phoenix.”
“Harper—”
“No, I really don’t. I know you wouldn’t have done it without a good reason, and that’s all I need to know.”
“You don’t know me well enough to trust me like that, Harper,” he said carefully.
She raised her chin. “Then you don’t have as much faith in yourself as I have in you.”
“I didn’t kill him,” he said quietly.
Harper sighed. “Thank God,” she whispered.
He stared at her for a moment then shook his head. “What is it you want from me?”
“What do you mean?”
“Sometimes when you look at me…I don’t know.” He took her hand in his and traced her pulse at the wrist. “I get the idea you think I’m something I’m not.”
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