Semi-Human (Harper Hall Investigations Book 2) (25 page)

He chuckled. “Fair enough.” His eyes sparkled a little suspiciously, too, as he added, “I love you.”

God, that whispery growl of his never failed to turn her knees to Jell-O. “I love you, too.”

This time their kiss was tender, romantic, and totally sappy. Mischa would
so
make fun of her if she’d seen any of this. When he pulled back, she said casually, “So, are you ready to get married, or what?”

His grin kicked up several notches. “Abso-fuckin’-lutely.”

“Then let’s grab the first ordained Elvis impersonator we can find and get this shit done.”

 

 

 

Chapter Thirty-Five

 

 

They didn’t get a chance to find that Elvis impersonator.

They’d barely set foot off the construction site when the city around them went pitch black.

Harper groped behind her for Riddick’s hand. “I didn’t think Vegas ever had blackouts.”

His voice was grim as he said, “I don’t think they do.”

“What do you think—”

Riddick drew his knife as the sound of quickly shuffling feet sounded in front of them. She drew Katy Perry from her scabbard and mentally prepared for battle once again. Everything must not have gone as planned, she thought frantically. Someone—one of the Vrykolakas or Lykoi-—had gotten away. Maybe—

Harper couldn’t see anything but felt the air disturbance Riddick’s punch created. She heard an
ooofff
, quickly followed by a
thud
.

Well, so much for
that
battle, she supposed.

“Jesus, Riddick, what the fuck?”

Harper pulled her keychain penlight out of her pocket and aimed it in the speaker’s direction. “Benny? What’s going on? Why are you here? You should be back at the hotel by now. Didn’t the cops show up at the Arena and clear the place out?”

Riddick pulled Benny to his feet and grumbled an apology, along with a warning about how he should never charge anyone in a dark alley unless he wanted to end up on his ass.

“Yeah, they came,” Benny said, sounding disgusted. “They cleaned out what was left of the Vrykolakas and Lykoi inside, including Archer, but when they showed up in the alley, everything went to shit.”

He paused, obviously struggling for words. Benny never struggled for words. Harper swallowed hard. This was bad.

And given the fact that she was barely on speaking terms with patience, Harper immediately shot past frustrated into panicked and worried, and grabbed Benny’s wrist.

In her vision, she watched Benny’s fight with a Lykoi. Through his eyes, she saw herself run off with Lucas to track Riddick and Ken. She saw Hunter kicking the crap out of two Lykoi, and Romeo grappling with one on the ground.

That’s when the cops piled into the alley, weapons drawn, yelling at everyone to freeze. Everyone but the guy Romeo was fighting did as he was told.

The guy pulled a gun out of his pocket and aimed it at the cops. The cops didn’t hesitate. They shot the guy, which spurred the Lykoi to go for their weapons. Romeo shouted for everyone to get down.

Romeo and Benny hit the ground as soon as soon as the first shot rent the night air. Hunter dove on top of Mischa, taking her to the ground, using his body as a shield.

When the alley finally went silent, the Lykoi were dead. Benny was unharmed. Romeo took a bullet in the leg, but was fine. Hunter had taken three bullets to the back. And Mischa…

“No!”

Benny pulled his wrist away, his eyes haunted. “There was so much blood, Harper.” He swallowed hard. “So much blood.”

Harper’s knees buckled. Riddick caught her and lifted her into his arms. “Where is she?” he asked.

“Bethany Lutheran Hospital. Other side of town.”

 

It looked like the fucking end of the world, Riddick thought, surveying the damage at Bethany Lutheran’s ER.

He had no idea what kind of cataclysmic event could’ve taken out the city’s lights and—apparently—their backup generators, but one thing was brutally clear.

Hospitals weren’t meant to run without power.

The place was lit by a hodgepodge of candles, flashlights, glow sticks, and cell phones. Doctors and nurses flitted frantically from one patient to the next with no semblance of order or organization. Just blind panic.

The machinery and monitors shrieked in protest of being cut off from power. Patients waiting to be seen shouted at the nurses behind the registration desk. Those already being seen moaned and groaned and carried on like they were all dying. A baby next to Riddick wailed in his ear.

He glanced over at the mother, who quickly apologized and shifted the baby to her other hip. “He has a double ear infection. The doctor says he probably feels like someone’s sticking an icepick in his eardrum.”

Riddick could relate. The noise in the place was assaulting his eardrums pretty good, too.

“Hey! Harpy! Over here.”

Harper raised her head off Riddick’s shoulder and glanced over to where Romeo was waving like a madman from his place on a gurney outside one of the exam rooms. Riddick set her on her feet and she made her way over to him on visibly shaky legs.

Riddick wasn’t sure if Romeo had tears in his eyes, or if their glistening appearance was a trick of the candlelight. He gestured to Romeo’s left leg and its open, jagged-edged bullet wound. “Clean shot?”

He nodded. “Yeah. I probably won’t even need stitches. Docs just want to clean it out and give me a dose of antibiotics.”

“Where is she?” Harper asked, voice thick and raspy.

“Room six over there.”

Harper stood for a moment, watching the door to room six, as if gearing herself up for what she’d find on the other side. Riddick laid a steadying hand on her shoulder and glanced back at Romeo. “How bad was it?”

Romeo swallowed hard. “Two bullets passed right through Hunter into her. She took one in the chest and one in the…uh…neck.”

Harper’s eyes fluttered shut and Riddick cursed under his breath.

“They’re doing everything they can,” Romeo said, “but without any kind of equipment like respirators and scanners and shit, they’re struggling. It’s battlefield conditions in here, man.”

Riddick watched as Harper tipped her chin up, squared her shoulders, and visibly gathered her strength. For about the hundredth time that night, he thought, God, what an amazing woman.

He couldn’t imagine they were welcome in the room, but that didn’t stop her. She marched right inside.

In the dim light cast by several votive candles, Hunter hovered over Mischa’s prone body. What Riddick could see of her skin was a roadmap of streaked blood, dirt, and open, jagged wounds. She looked like she’d been mauled by a fucking bear, he thought.

Hunter was chanting something under his breath in a language Riddick had never heard. When he looked up at Harper, she gasped and reared back as if he’d slapped her.

Riddick understood her reaction. Jesus, he’d never forget the look in Hunter’s eyes. Haunted, tormented, distraught…none of those words seemed right. He was well beyond that.

That’s when Riddick noticed the thin trail of blood that had apparently dripped from his lower lip down to his chin. The implications of that blood trail felt like a physical presence in the room with them.

Shit.

“What did you do?” Harper whispered.

Hunter opened his mouth to answer—or to scream, maybe—but no sound came out. He ran a shaking, blood-stained hand through his hair and shook his head, tears filling his eyes.

Harper pushed past him and crawled into the bed with Mischa. She shoved one arm under her friend’s limp body and hugged her tight. “It’s okay,” she whispered. “It’s fine. You’re fine.”

Even to Riddick the words sounded hollow. He turned to Hunter. “Was she…” he trailed off, not sure he wanted to say the word
dead
in front of Harper.

Hunter was staring at Mischa as Harper rocked her back and forth gently, like she was a sick child. After a pause so long Riddick had wondered if he was too far gone to even understand the question, he said, “The doctor said there was nothing he could do. That she would be…” he swallowed hard. “He left to check on another patient and said I should say my goodbyes. He basically said she’d be dead soon.”

As Riddick imagined, at the word
dead
, Harper’s body jolted as if she’d taken a bullet.

“When he was gone, I…panicked. I couldn’t imagine her…” he trailed off, shaking his head as if trying to dislodge even the thought. “I changed her. I couldn’t
not
change her.”

Riddick pinched the bridge of his nose. “When the doctor comes back and finds out you’ve turned her without her written consent, he’ll call the cops.”

He didn’t answer. Just continued staring at Mischa.

“You’ll go to jail, man,” Riddick added gently. “You need to run. Go now. We’ll say you were gone by the time we got here.”

His eyes shot to Riddick’s. “I can’t leave. I need to be here when she rises. I need to…explain.”

Riddick looked to Harper for help convincing Hunter to run, and quickly found she was in no condition to provide anything. Tears streamed down her checks, dripped off her chin, and landed on Mischa, silently making clean trails through the blood stains on her friend’s face. His heart broke for her. For both of them.

Riddick settled himself into a bedside chair and sighed. Shit. A devastated fiancée, a newly turned vampire, and a barely coherent Hunter.

Harper had assured him their life together would get beautifully boring after they made it out of the Arena.

He should’ve known better. Nothing about Harper Hall’s life was ever going to be
boring
.

 

 

 

Chapter Thirty-Six

 

 

Mischa’s doctor was beyond horrified at what Hunter had done to save her. He fled the room like his ass was on fire and—as Riddick predicted—called the cops immediately.

A vampire containment unit arrived shortly thereafter. Hunter was silent when they read him his rights, but when they asked him to step away from Mischa, he bared his teeth and hissed at them.

The two humans from the vampire containment unit wore fatigues and full riot gear, which Harper thought was completely ridiculous, given the fact that they were there to take
one
vampire into custody. But they obviously took their assignment very seriously, so she managed to avoid rolling her eyes at them. But just barely.

One of the men moved toward Hunter with a silver collar attached to a collapsible pole. The collar was to weaken Hunter. The pole was to lead him out of the hospital like a stray dog.

“Jesus,” Harper muttered. “Is that really necessary?”

He blinked at her. “Just a precaution, ma’am.”

She glanced over at Hunter, who was now completely ignoring them. He’d gone back to chanting under his breath in some ancient language as he held Mischa’s limp hand against his heart.

Riddick was no help, either. He was asleep, splayed out in an uncomfortable-looking chair in the corner of the room. He was the picture of exhaustion: head tipped back against the wall, mouth open, fingers laced together and resting on his stomach. He’d been out for about an hour, which Harper thought was probably the most sleep he’d had in a month. She certainly wasn’t going to wake him.

As one of the officers took a cautious step toward Hunter, the collar and pole flew out of his hand, smacking into the wall on the opposite side of the room before clattering to the floor.

Harper glanced at Hunter, who had a hand held out in front of him and a downright crazed look in his eyes. The officers glanced at Hunter, then at the collar and pole, then back to Hunter.

That’s when Harper realized Hunter had knocked the collar and pole out of the guy’s hands without touching him.

Shit.

So, mind reading, mind control, and telekinesis were all talents Hunter had amassed over the past five-plus centuries.

It look Harper a moment or two to wrap her brain around
that
little tidbit.

One of the officers moved his hand to the butt of his gun, which, Harper was willing to bet, was loaded with silver bullets. That’s when Harper snapped out of her musings and moved to stand in front of Hunter.

She held out her hands in supplication. “Look,” she began, trying out her sweetest smile, “I know you have a job to do, and I’m happy to help you do it. But it’s been a really rough night. Hunter doesn’t want to go anywhere until Mischa wakes up. Would it really be that big of a deal to stick around for a few minutes? Then, he’ll go with you willingly, I promise. Right, Hunter?”

She threw back an elbow into his gut when he didn’t answer immediately.

He grunted. “Yeah. Sure.”

They looked less than reassured. Guess her charm wasn’t up to full speed after the night they’d had. “Hunter? Can you give them a little push?”

He sighed an extremely put-upon sigh and leveled them with a long look. After a moment or two, they both turned and shuffled out of the room, taking watch outside the door.

She started to thank him when Mischa groaned and tried to sit up. Even with Hunter’s vampire speed, he didn’t make it to Mischa’s side before Harper did.

Harper gave her a gentle push back down into the bed and smoothed the hair off her friend’s forehead. “Hey, there, Sleeping Beauty, we were starting to get worried about you.”

Mischa blinked up at her, confused. “I’m not…dead?”

Not quite ready to address that question, Harper asked, “How are you feeling?”

She swallowed hard a couple of times. “Thirsty. So thirsty.”

Harper glanced down at the IV the doctor had started. Instead of medicine, it was now pumping O-positive directly into Mischa’s veins. He’d said it would help to stave off the blood thirst.

But soon, even that wouldn’t help and Mischa would need to ingest blood—either bottled or straight from a source—in order to survive.

Mischa pulled a deep breath through her nose and closed her eyes. “What’s happening to me?” she whispered.

Hunter grabbed her hand and dropped to his knees at her side. “It’s natural, love. Stay calm.”

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