Semi-Twisted:

by Isabel Jordan

  Riddick gave her a mock bow as Willy continued to writhe on the ground at his feet.

  Candy tipped her head to the side and glared up at Harper out of the corner of her eye. “I remember you two now,” she hissed. “You worked for Sentry. You’re murderers!”

  Murderers is a little harsh, Harper thought, feeling vaguely offended.

  Harper had been recruited by Sentry when she was just a kid. The psychic visions she’d been “gifted” with were a great asset to the organization. They allowed slayers to get the jump on vampires and other paranormal threats to humanity. And threats were eliminated with extreme prejudice. Until vampires came out of the coffin, that is.

  About seven years ago, when vampires earned human rights, public backlash had shut Sentry down. No one liked the idea of a covert government agency putting vampires down like rabid dogs, so ex-Sentry employees were often met with prejudice and disdain these days, especially by prospective employers (hence her glamorous current gig).

  And as if that weren’t bad enough, since then, Harper had spent enough time with vampires to know that like humans, they weren’t all bad, as Sentry had led her to believe most of her life.

  She’d no doubt be judged one day for her actions—no matter how misled she might have been by Sentry. But she’d be damned if a thieving little wench like Candy would be doing the judging.

  A muscle in Riddick’s jaw twitched, letting her know he didn’t like Candy’s little reminder about Sentry, either.

  Riddick had been a slayer for Sentry—but not just any slayer. His strength, speed, and hunting ability hadn’t come from Sentry-administered drugs, as it had for other slayers. Riddick had been born with his talents.

  According to Mischa, her BFF who’d worked for Sentry as a watcher, natural-born slayers were no better than wild animals: unpredictable, untamable, deadly if provoked. Riddick struggled every day to keep his inner beast in check and remain in control.

  And for the most part, Willy’s shattered knee notwithstanding, he succeeded. He was her partner. The guy who’d helped her triple the agency’s business over the past year. The guy who’d saved her life. Twice. The guy who always let her have the last piece of pie. The guy who held her while she slept every night, all night, even though he could only sleep about four hours at a time.

  The guy who was an absolute God in bed.

  And in Harper’s experience, men who knew their way around a clitoris and a G-spot were rare animals indeed.

  “Sticks and stones, sweetheart,” she said lightly. “Call me whatever you want, but don’t insult him or I’ll make what he did to your boyfriend’s knee look like a love tap. I’ve been authorized to bring you in using whatever force is necessary.”

  Which was a total lie, but Candy didn’t need to know that.

  “Oh, you’re in luuuuvvvv.” Candy sneered. “How pathetic.”

  “Yep. And you’re going to jail mostly naked. Who’s pathetic now?”

  That shut her right up. Thank God.

  “Hey, Riddick, do you have an extra zip tie?”

  What a stupid question, she thought as he reached into his leather trench coat. The man was a walking arsenal. He had everything from silver knives and short swords to zip ties, cuffs, and duct tape on him at all times.

  Her hand brushed his when she reached for the tie, and a vision hit her right between the eyes. Harper pressed her hands to her temples, letting the vision roll over her.

  She waited to see the usual vampires and blood and death, but they never came. Instead of some random victim, this time Harper’s vision was of…well, Harper.

  She stood on worn red velvet carpet at what looked like an altar. An old man in an even older suit stood before her, holding a Bible. Next to her was Riddick. They looked happy, if a little (okay, a lot) dirty and disheveled. And just as Riddick moved to slide a ring on her finger, the vision faded.

  “God dammit!”

  Riddick knelt beside her, looking concerned. “You okay?” he asked.

  She blinked away the remnants of her vision. “Yeah,” she said after a short pause. “It was just a vision.”

  “Meditation stopped working, huh?”

  Her friend Hunter, a vampire who was so old that—if you got him drunk enough—he’d tell stories about what a pompous jerkoff George Custer was, had been helping her learn meditation techniques to control her visions. It had been working, for the most part. Nine times out of ten these days, she could channel her energy into avoiding moments when random contact with other people sparked a vision, which allowed her to trigger one herself when she really needed it (like during work hours).

  Hunter had warned her that it probably wasn’t going to be foolproof, though, since psychic gifts were unpredictable by design. She supposed this incident proved he was right.

  “That was the weirdest thing I’ve ever seen,” she told him.

  He raised a brow, looking shocked. It had been a pretty bold statement, she realized, considering some of the freaky shit she’d seen over the years.

  “That bad, huh?”

  Harper shook her head. “No, not bad at all. But…”

  Riddick brushed her hair off her forehead. “But what?”

  Her mouth went dry. Could she voice this out loud without sounding like a crazed girlfriend pushing her guy for a forever kind of commitment?

  She shuddered. God, that even sounded pathetic in her head. “Well…I thought I just saw…us…getting…”

  Beneath her, Candy groaned. “If this is a sex story, let me be the first to say eeeewwww.”

  Harper smacked her in the back of the head with an open palm. Riddick took the zip tie and bound Candy’s wrists, probably a little too tight based on Candy’s grunt. But at least she shut up.

  “You saw us getting what, Sunshine?” Riddick asked, still looking concerned.

  “Ummm…married.”

  He paled a little at the word, and Harper instantly panicked. “Not that I’m pressing you, or anything. I mean, we’ve only been together for a year, and we’ve never even talked about marriage, so I totally get that what I just saw probably wasn’t right, and—”

  Riddick cupped the back of her head and yanked her toward him for a hard, fast kiss. When he pulled back, she was speechless. Well, except for the little gasp/moan combo that escaped her lips.

  He rested his forehead on hers, fingers still wound in her hair. “I know you’re not pressing me. I just didn’t want to ask you like this,” he said, gesturing with his free hand to the vampire beneath her.

  “Holy shit,” she murmured. “You really do want to marry me?”

  Candy turned her head toward Riddick. “Really? Her? You’re way out of her league, cheekbones. Murderer or not.”

  They ignored her.

  Riddick flashed her favorite sexy half-smile, and if she’d been standing, she would’ve wobbled. “Are you kidding? Why wouldn’t I want to marry you? You’re smart and sexy and just dropped a vampire twice your size to the floor without even breaking a sweat. You’re a fucking goddess.”

  Candy sniffed. “I’m not twice her size. I’m just bigger-boned,” she said, sounding offended.

  Harper’s head was swimming. She hadn’t had much luck with marriage. Her miserable cheating bastard of an ex-husband still might have a restraining order out on her, come to think of it. Did she even want to get married again?

  Riddick cupped her jaw and brushed a tear she didn’t even realize she’d shed away with his thumb. “I know I don’t deserve you. Not even by a long shot. And I don’t have a thing to offer you but me…and let’s face it, I’m pretty well and truly fucked up.”

  She let out a watery chuckle and his eyes crinkled up at the corners a little with his answering smile.

  “But if you’ll have me,” he added, “I’m yours. There’s no one else for me, Harper. I’ll beg, borrow, or kill to give you everything you ever want or need.”

  She was pretty sure the saying was beg, borrow, or steal, but hey, who was she
to argue with a great speech like that? “So, that’s great and all, but you haven’t really asked me anything yet. Are you asking me a question?” she prompted primly, batting her eyes at him expectantly.

  His smile grew. “Yes, smartass, I am.” He took a deep breath. “Harper Hall, will you marry—”

  “Yes!” she squealed, then threw herself into his arms.

  “Thank God,” he said into her hair at the same time Candy said, “I think I’m gonna be sick.”

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