Semi-Twisted:

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Semi-Twisted: Page 17

by Isabel Jordan


  Royal grabbed her shoulder and yanked her forward. She used her momentum and head-butted the bastard.

  Harper had taught her that one.

  “Fuck!” He tossed her away from him so hard the back of her head slammed into the wall and she slid to the floor.

  Her vision blurred and the room tilted a little. Shit. That couldn’t be good. Could a vampire get a concussion?

  Royal loomed over her, blood covering his face and dripping down onto the front of his white button-down. He swiped at his swollen, obviously broken nose with his sleeve. “I.Am.Going.To.Fucking.Kill.You.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  Mischa’s eyes widened as the newcomer made his presence known. Hunter filled the doorway, his eyes lighting with an almost feral glow as they took in the sight of Royal standing over her. His power filled the room, crackling and as intense and elemental as an electrical storm.

  Apparently her hour was up. She almost felt sorry for Royal.

  Almost.

  Royal turned and the two men circled each other in slow motion.

  “You know, I could peel your skin from your body as easily as peeling an orange and never lay a hand on you to do it,” Hunter began, his tone sounding casual, calm. “But that wouldn’t be as much fun as beating you until you can’t stand, then stringing you from the ceiling from your own entrails.”

  Royal swallowed hard, looking nervous for the first time. Mischa was getting kind of nervous herself. “Hunter, I’m fine. There’s no reason to…disembowel anyone.”

  “You’re bleeding,” he said without looking at her. “He hurt you. He dies.”

  Royal lunged forward with a frantic snarl and they clashed in a blurred tangle Mischa could barely track, even with her enhanced vision.

  It was bloody and violent and horrifying to watch. The sounds of fists pounding against flesh, breaking bones, and pained grunts filled the room. They were locked together, fighting to the death, and Mischa could only watch it all in mute horror.

  But as quickly as it had started, it was over, with Royal face down on the ground, arms twisted and mangled, laying uselessly at his sides. Hunter had his knee in Royal’s back, his hands twisting Royal’s neck back at an impossible angle. One twist and Hunter would rip Royal’s head clean off his shoulders.

  And end up back in prison for committing cold-blooded murder. The Council didn’t look kindly on recidivism.

  “Hunter, you have to stop and let the police take him in,” she said urgently, grabbing his arm. “You’ll go back to prison if you kill him.”

  The muscles beneath her fingers bunched and tightened. “It’ll be worth it,” he said through obviously clenched teeth.

  Mischa let go of Hunter’s arm and ran her fingers over his short hair. “Don’t leave me again,” she whispered. “Please.”

  He made a noise like a trapped beast and closed his eyes. “You just had to say ‘please,’ didn’t you?”

  She laid her head on his shoulder and smiled when he let go of Royal’s head to slip an arm around her waist. “I’ll make it up to you later.”

  “You’ll pay for this,” Royal sputtered. “I’ll see that you pay—”

  Mischa brought her booted foot down his head, swiftly, without hesitation, silencing whatever threat he’d been planning to make.

  Hunter pulled back and raised a brow.

  “What?” she asked. “He’ll live. I never said he had to be conscious when the police took him.”

  He shook his head, the expression in his eyes somewhere just shy of total adoration and awe. “I love you.”

  She grinned. “I know.”

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  “So, the bastard’s already shot me in the leg, he’s got the gun to my head, and I says, ‘Go ahead and kill me, mother fucker! Just don’t hurt my Emily’.”

  Hunter didn’t recall hearing Michael say anything like that during his ordeal, but he saw no reason to rob the boy of his hero moment.

  Emily cuddled up against Michael in his hospital bed and all but purred, “Oh, honey, you were so brave! What would I have done without you there?”

  She would’ve stayed curled up in the fetal position on the bed, blubbering and about as useful as an appendix, Hunter thought.

  Next to him, Mischa smothered a laugh with a fake cough. He grinned down at her. He’d never been with anyone who was able to read his thoughts. It was weird, definitely. But strangely intimate and comforting as well. It meant their bond was strengthening, and as far as he was concerned, it couldn’t get strong enough for his liking. He wanted her in every aspect of his life. He was hers, body, heart, and soul.

  She looped her arms around his waist and laid her head on his chest. He tightened his arms around her and kissed the top of her head, wishing they were at home, alone.

  Naked would be good, too.

  But naked alone time wasn’t in the cards just yet.

  Michael’s hospital room was full to capacity. Tina sat in a chair at the head of the bed, alternating between offering to get her son something to eat, and fluffing his pillows and tucking his blankets around him like she probably did when he was sick as a child.

  Harper—and her brown recliner—sat at the foot of the bed. Riddick (who must’ve carried that stupid chair out of their apartment, to the hospital, then up to the fifth floor) stood behind the chair, arms crossed over his chest, eyeing the hallway warily, as if they could be attacked at any moment. Dhampyre protective instincts, Hunter immediately recognized. Hunter could relate.

  “So I’m confused about why Royal tried to kill Mischa,” Harper said, hand protectively rubbing her belly.

  “Well, when Lucas took his statement, he said he hadn’t tried to kill anyone. He took a shot at me hoping to scare me into quitting the competition,” Mischa said.

  “Why not just kidnap you like the others?” Emily asked.

  Mischa tightened her hold on his waist. “Apparently, once he realized I was a threat, I was never alone long enough for him to grab me.”

  “And he probably realized she could kick his ass,” Hunter added, chuckling at the memory of Royal’s busted nose. Before he’d shown up, Mischa had done a number on the stupid bastard.

  “What are the odds that he’ll lawyer up and get out of the charges?” Tina asked.

  “Oh, according to Lucas, he’s already lawyered up,” Mischa said. “His business is worth millions, and he has all the right connections on the Council to get him out of serving jail time.”

  Emily’s eyes widened. “He’s going to get out?”

  Mischa nodded. “He’s claiming Michael’s gunshot wound was an accident. That in combination with the fact that I wasn’t really hurt and the other girls weren’t really hurt means the Council will most likely let him slide with a big whopping ‘donation’ to the Council elders. But, the good news is that they’ve already agreed to wipe Royal’s memory of Emily and all things Whispering Hope before his release. So he shouldn’t bother any of us ever again.”

  “Shit,” Michael said. “They’re powerful enough to do that?”

  Mischa glanced at Hunter. “No. But they have a volunteer who is.”

  Hunter’s smile at the thought of having Royal at his mercy could only be described as feral. Apparently, the memory-wiping process wasn’t exactly…pleasant.

  Harper gasped and leaned forward in her seat, brow furrowing.

  Riddick moved faster than a human could ever move and kneeled in front of her. “What is it?”

  She smiled, but it was a tense echo of her usual smile. “It’s nothing. Baby’s just kicking.”

  Tina rubbed her own stomach. “That wasn’t just a kick. That really hurt.”

  “Ugh!” Michael exclaimed. “That’s gross, Ma.”

  “I can’t help it!” Tina cried. “My leg’s been aching something awful since you got shot, too. I can’t block out what my babies are feeling.”

  “Well, try harder,” Harper said through gritted teeth. “Michael’s right. That’s
just weird.”

  Then she held up her hand, skin slowly draining of color, and asked, “Wait, you can’t feel it when I’m having sex, too, can you?”

  “Jesus,” Riddick muttered, looking nauseated.

  Tina looked thoughtful. “I don’t think so. But I suppose I probably could if you were doing it, say, in my house while I was home, or something. I wonder if…”

  Michael grabbed a puke basin off his bedside table and dry- heaved into it while Harper and Tina bickered back and forth about boundaries versus scientific curiosity.

  They were all completely insane, Hunter realized. And because Mischa was part of their family (an honorary member, but still), he would be dealing with this group of crazy people for decades to come.

  He waited for horror to settle in. It didn’t.

  Huh. Go figure.

  He smiled down at Mischa and opened his mouth to joke with her about her certifiable adoptive clan, but snapped it shut abruptly when he saw the look on her face.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  She closed her eyes and canted her head towards Harper. “Everyone be quiet.”

  Her tone brooked no argument. Everyone shut up immediately.

  A moment later, she looked up at him with wide eyes. “Do you hear that?”

  He shifted his focus to Harper and listened. At first, he heard nothing but the flow of Harper’s blood through her veins, the push and pull of air in and out of her lungs. But then…

  “Yes,” he murmured.

  “Is that…normal?” Mischa asked.

  He didn’t know if she was asking if what she’d heard was normal, or if the fact that she could hear it at all was normal. Didn’t really matter, he supposed. The answer was the same either way. “Um…no.”

  Harper couldn’t hold her tongue any longer. “What the fuck is going on? What do you both hear?”

  Mischa went over and laid her head on Harper’s stomach.

  Harper blinked down at her, nonplussed. “OK, this isn’t weird or awkward at all.”

  Riddick looked ready to tear the room apart with his bare hands. “Someone better tell me what the fuck is going on right the fuck now.”

  Mischa ignored him and looked up at Harper, eyes wide. “I hear her.”

  Emily gasped and Tina crossed herself, muttering, “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.”

  Michael shook his head. “You’ve always been a weirdo, short round. But this is fucking weird even for you.”

  Harper groped blindly for Riddick without taking her eyes off Mischa.

  He grabbed her hand, looking like he’d been hit between the eyes with a two-by-four.

  “Her?” Harper whispered. “It’s a girl?”

  Mischa nodded and let out a watery laugh. “It’s time. She’s ready.”

  Riddick growled. “No fucking way. It’s too early. She’s not due for another month.”

  Hunter shook his head. “She’s strong. Heart, lungs, brain…she’s definitely ready.”

  “How is that possible?” Tina asked, lower lip trembling.

  “Well, Riddick’s DNA is…advanced,” Hunter answered. “And Harper’s psychic, so she’s obviously got some magic in her blood. It’s not terribly far-fetched to think their baby wouldn’t need as much time to develop as a normal human baby. Leon could probably give you a more scientific reason.”

  As a former Sentry biochemist, Leon was probably more qualified than anyone to tell her why the baby was ready early. But as far as being able to make sure the baby was ready? Mischa had already done that.

  Mischa looked up at Riddick. “Get your doctor. Now. The pains she’s been feeling? Those are labor pains.”

  He went three shades of pale before running out of the room like it was on fire. Hunter hoped he remembered to actually speak to the doctor before dragging him back to Harper’s room by his or her hair.

  Harper grabbed Mischa’s hand. “Do you understand now about your powers? They’re nothing to be afraid of. You can save lives. You can help people. It’s a good thing you are the way you are. Just like Riddick, just like my mom, just like me.”

  “I think I finally understand,” Mischa said quietly.

  Harper winced and squeezed Mischa’s hand as another labor pain hit. “Well, thank Christ for that, because I don’t think I have time to explain it to your dumb ass. Oh, I almost forgot. Will you be the baby’s godmother?”

  Mischa swallowed visibly. “Are you…are you sure?”

  Harper grinned at her. “Are you kidding? You’re like a sister to me, and besides that, you’re a vampire with super powers. Who better to protect my baby if I’m not around to do it? Hunter, you’re up for godfather, too, if you’re in. And don’t worry, I won’t make you do a Brando impression. Yet.”

  Well, this was a first, he thought. He’d walked the earth for over five centuries and no one had ever asked him to be part of their family or entrusted him with anything so precious. It was…humbling.

  Leave it to Harper Hall to humble an ancient creature such as himself.

  He gave her the only answer he could possibly give when faced with that kind of great honor. “I’ll protect her with my life.”

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Two hours later, Haven Marie Hall was born.

  Weighing in at an impressive nine pounds, eight ounces (which might explain why her mother had such an unfathomable appetite over the past few months), Haven was every bit as ready to face the world as Mischa and Hunter had said she’d be.

  And now that she was out in the world, neither Hunter nor Mischa could hear her thoughts anymore, which meant she already had some instinctive, powerful mental shields. It appeared that little Haven, like her mother, would never be boring.

  Harper had named her daughter in honor of her maternal grandmother, which had made Tina bawl uncontrollably for about ten minutes. She’d most likely depleted her entire supply of bra tissues.

  Mischa had asked Riddick why Harper and Haven hadn’t taken his name. He’d simply shrugged and told her that three Riddicks in the world (meaning him, his father, and the sister he’d never met) were more than enough, and his girls deserved better than that kind of legacy.

  Having seen Riddick fight his ruthless father, a fellow dhampyre, in the supernatural equivalent of Fight Club the previous year, Mischa couldn’t really dispute the truth in his words.

  As for Riddick’s sister, though…well, Mischa guessed they’d cross that bridge when they came to it. Maybe she was more like Riddick than their father. Fingers crossed.

  But looking at Riddick, sitting in Harper’s hospital bed with his wife leaning back against him, their beautiful baby girl nestled lovingly in her mother’s arms, it was clear that his father and sister were the last things on his mind.

  Mischa leaned back against Hunter, who immediately wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his chin on the top of her head. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything this beautiful,” she whispered quietly, so as not to disturb the new family.

  “I have,” he whispered back.

  In his thoughts, she caught a quick flash of her face as she writhed beneath him and called out his name. She shivered, hoping to relive that particular memory sooner rather than later. “You’re comparing me coming to the miracle of new life being brought into the world?”

  “You’re the only miracle I’ll ever need, love,” he answered simply.

  She turned in his arms and looked up at him. “We never really talked about this, and I have no idea how you feel about it because you weren’t exactly raised a Catholic like me. But I want what they have,” she said, gesturing to Harper and Riddick. “The whole thing, starting with marriage. I know it’s crazy and irrational since I’m not all that religious anymore, but…I want to stand up in front of friends and family and promise to be true to each other forever.”

  One corner of his mouth kicked up in her favorite crooked smile. “I don’t suppose this would be a good time to tell you we’re already married.”

&n
bsp; She couldn’t help it. Her jaw dropped. She probably looked like a simpleton as she stared up at him. “We’re what now?”

  “By vampire law, we’re married. Mated, in vampire terminology. It happens when you exchange blood and claim each other. You know, the whole ‘mine’ thing?”

  Mischa blinked up at him a few times before she could put together a coherent thought. “So…you didn’t think that was something you should tell me earlier?”

  “I wanted to tell you, but you were so…”

  “Twisted,” she finished for him.

  He nodded. “It’s an antiquated tradition, anyway. I wouldn’t have held you to the marriage if you decided you didn’t want to stay with me. I didn’t see the point in bringing it up at the time. And then everything with Royal happened, then Harper…”

  She got it. Their timing had been off. Again.

  “And if you would’ve let me go,” she said, ignoring the pain in her chest that came along with that thought, “what about you? Would that mean you wouldn’t be able to ever choose another mate?”

  He looked confused. “Why would I ever want to choose another mate?”

  Best. Answer. Ever.

  Mischa grabbed him by the back of the neck, dragged his mouth down to hers and kissed the hell out of him.

  She was definitely irked he hadn’t bothered to tell her they were married. But even if he had, would anything have changed? No way. She still would’ve had to come to terms with her feelings all on her own. But still…

  Mischa pulled back and punched him in the stomach.

  He grunted, but didn’t let go of her. “What was that for?”

  “I just realized the public humiliation was totally unnecessary. We were already married, for Christ’s sake! No more keeping secrets from me, got it?”

  “Got it.”

  He said it seriously enough, but his eyes were clearly smiling, so she pointed her index finger at him. “And we’re still getting married the human way. You’re not getting out of that, mister. You’re going to stand there in that church in a tux—” she paused, taking a moment to imagine the yummy goodness that was Hunter in formal wear, “—and we’re going to promise to love each other forever, got it?”

 

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