The Reluctant Vampire (34 page)

She smiled, and he caressed her cheek gently, and then pushed himself wearily to his feet. Drina shifted her chair into a reclining position as he walked to his own. He got in the second chair, shifted it into the reclining position, and then reached across the end table between them for her hand. She smiled at him gently and squeezed his fingers, and they both drifted off to sleep.

It was something cold and hard pressing against his forehead that woke him sometime later. Harper frowned and blinked his eyes open. His head was turned to the side, and the first thing he saw was Drina in the next chair, her eyes open and narrowed in concentration on something beyond him. Bending his neck to the side, he turned slowly to see what had been at his forehead and stilled when he saw the woman standing over him, pointing a gun at his head.

Chapter Seventeen

Harper stared at the slender mortal female with short, dark hair and a pinched, angry face. She was trembling, no doubt trying to fight the control Drina had taken of her.

“Sue?” he said finally, his voice as blank as his thoughts as he stared at Susan Harper. He hadn’t seen the woman since Jenny’s death, and his brain was having a little trouble accepting that Jenny’s sister would be here at all, let alone pointing a weapon at him.

“Why can’t I pull the trigger?” she growled, sounding furious. “I’m trying to, but my finger won’t move.”

Harper glanced to Drina.

“I woke up as she entered the room,” Drina said quietly. “At first, I was half-asleep and thought it must be Leonius, but then I realized she was a woman and mortal and she wasn’t going for Stephanie but heading for you. I waited to see what she was up to, but when she pointed the gun at you . . .”

Harper nodded, not needing her to tell him that she had taken control of the woman enough to prevent her harming anyone but leaving her free to think and speak. He shifted his gaze back to Sue; his eyes slid from her face to the gun and back, before he asked with bewilderment, “Why?”

“Because you killed Jenny,” she said bitterly.

Harper sagged in his chair, his old friend guilt gliding through him like a ghost . . . Jenny’s ghost. If he’d been the one controlling Sue at that moment, his control would have slipped, and he’d no doubt have a hole in his head. Fortunately, Drina didn’t slip at this news, and after taking a moment to regather himself, he cleared his throat, and said quietly, “I never meant for that to happen, Susan. You must know that. I wanted to spend my life with Jenny. She was my life mate. I’d sooner kill myself than my life mate.”

“She wasn’t your life mate,” Susan snapped with disgust. “Jenny didn’t even like you. She only put up with you so you’d turn her. She bought into all your promises of young and beautiful and healthy forever . . . but you killed her.”

Harper winced as those words whipped him. He didn’t know which hurt him most: the suggestion that Jenny had only been using him or the reminder that she was dead because of him. Susan’s saying that she hadn’t even liked him fit with what Teddy had said the night he and Drina had flown back from Toronto in the helicopter, and he supposed it was possible. They’d only known each other a week or so before she’d agreed to the turn. And while he was immortal and had accepted her as his life mate the moment he couldn’t read her, she was mortal. Mortals didn’t understand the importance of being a life mate, didn’t automatically recognize the gift of it. She may have just gone along with it to let him turn her. But he was sure that she would have eventually recognized that he was the only one she could find peace with and passion.

Harper frowned as he recalled that he hadn’t experienced that passion with Jenny. He’d been putting it down to the fact that she’d kept him at arm’s length, and still believed that. If she’d even allowed him to kiss her, they both would have been overwhelmed by it, he was sure. Just as he and Drina were constantly bedeviled by it.

Finally, he said solemnly, “She was my life mate, Susan. I couldn’t read her.”

Susan snorted. “Jenny figured that was the brain tumor.”

Harper stilled, his heart seeming to stop in his chest at the words. It was Drina who growled, “Brain tumor?”

Eyes locked on Harper, Susan flashed an unpleasant smile that suggested she was enjoying his shock and dismay. “She was having headaches, and her vision would blur at times. She was also having trouble concentrating, and her memory was suffering. It turned out she had a tumor. They’d started chemo to try to shrink it before they operated, but then Jenny met you and decided she didn’t need any more treatment at all. She’d just let you turn her and live forever.”

“Harper?” Drina said quietly. “A brain tumor could prevent you reading her.”

“She was my life mate, Dree,” he said quietly. “I was eating. My appetites had been reawakened.”

“We can always eat,” she pointed out gently. “We just get tired of it and stop because it’s a bother, not because we can’t.” She paused a moment to let that sink in, then asked, “Did the food taste as good then as it does now?”

Harper automatically opened his mouth to say yes, but caught himself and really thought about it. In truth, he realized, it hadn’t. It had been okay, some of it tasty even, but he’d only eaten when the others had, and hadn’t found himself stuffing himself until his stomach ached, or constantly wanting it as he did now.

“And you didn’t have the shared dreams,” she pointed out quietly.

Harper nodded silently, thinking that it wasn’t just the lack of shared dreams but the lack of passion. He’d been eager to experience it with Jenny, but not eager enough to try to change her mind when she’d insisted they wait until after the turn. Harper had just let it go, thinking everything would be fine after he turned her. He certainly hadn’t been obsessed with it as he had been since Drina had arrived here in Port Henry, his mind constantly undressing her and doing things to her that left him half-erect when she wasn’t even in the damned room.

By the time Harper had actually kissed Drina outside that restaurant in Toronto, he’d already undressed and made love to her in his mind a hundred times. During their shopping expedition, he’d fantasized about her in every pair of pretty panties and bras she’d bought, and the black dress had been no better.

Harper had assured himself that it was just the appetites Jenny had reawakened, that they were making themselves known again now that some of his depression was easing, but those damned boots had kept him under a cold shower for nearly an hour as he’d got ready for their trip to the city, and it hadn’t eased any in Toronto. As she’d spoken of Egypt, he’d imagined her dressed up like Cleopatra and mentally stripped away her clothes and laid her on a bed of pillows to sink his body into hers. As she’d told him about her time as a gladiator, his fantasy had switched to ravishing her in the middle of an arena with the crowds cheering him on.

It had been the same with each revelation of her life. In his mind, Harper had made love to Drina as a concubine, a duchess, a pirate, and a madam all before he’d even touched her. But even that hadn’t prepared him for what happened when he’d finally kissed her there outside the restaurant. The passion that had exploded over him had been overwhelming, and he was quite sure that if the waiter hadn’t happened along, he’d have made love to her right there pinned up against the wall.

Harper hadn’t experienced anything like that with Jenny. He hadn’t imagined her naked or dressed or anything. He’d mostly thought about how happy they would be once she was turned, and they were able to enjoy the shared pleasure and peace a life mate offered.

“Harper?” Drina said quietly.

“She wasn’t my life mate,” he acknowledged quietly.

When she released a small sigh, he glanced over curiously, surprised to note that she looked relieved, happy even. Harper took a moment to wonder if she had been jealous of Jenny but didn’t have to think hard. He could still recall his rage at the idea of her going downstairs to give the doorman “the night of his life.” He hadn’t reacted much better to the idea of Marguerite finding her another life mate. Still, he smiled crookedly, and asked, “Were you jealous of Jenny?”

“Of course,” she said simply, not taking her eyes or concentration off Susan. “I don’t share well, even with ghosts.”

Harper smiled faintly and reached over to squeeze her hand. He knew it wasn’t well-done of him, but he actually liked that she’d been jealous.

Drina glanced his way long enough to note his expression and wrinkled her nose at him. “But now I don’t have to be jealous of the selfish little mortal.”

“Don’t call Jenny selfish,” Susan snapped, fury replacing her glee of a moment ago.

“Why not?” Drina asked coldly, her full concentration on the woman once again. “It’s what she was. She didn’t care for Harper at all. She was using him. And she stole his one turn for her own selfish purposes.”

“She wasn’t selfish; she wanted to live,” Susan snapped. “And she didn’t steal anything, he turned her willingly. And look where it got her anyway!” She was furious, almost foaming at the mouth as she spat the words. “That wonderful turning killed her.
He
killed her.”

“She killed herself,” Drina said grimly. “Her heart, her whole body would have been weakened by the chemo. If she’d told him about the cancer, Harper would never have turned her until she’d had the chance to heal and build up strength. She killed herself by keeping it a secret. But then she couldn’t tell him, could she?” Drina added dryly. “He would have realized she might not be his life mate then. He would have been more cautious and had others try to read her.”

“She wanted to live,” Susan cried.

“And in so doing didn’t care that she was condemning Harper to a living death with no chance of ever turning a true life mate when he encountered her,” Drina said heavily.

“Oh, right, he’s really been suffering!” Susan gave a bitter laugh, and then her expression sombered and she turned her gaze back to Harper. “You really seemed to care when Jenny died. I thought you were suffering like me, so I tried not to blame you.” Her gaze shifted to Drina, and her lips twisted bitterly. “But then this slut showed up, and Jenny suddenly meant nothing. I couldn’t believe it when Genie called and told me how the two of you were humping in the schoolyard. She was sure you’d have screwed her right there in the snow in front of everyone if Teddy hadn’t come along to stop you.” Her mouth tightened. “I didn’t believe her at first, so I was going to come over and see what was going on, but then I saw you through the back window as I walked up to the house, the two of you going at it in the pantry like a couple of horny teenagers, groping each other through your clothes and . . .” She paused, her mouth twisting with disgust and grief.

“I thought I saw someone in the yard,” Drina muttered with a frown.

Harper raised an eyebrow. He knew what Susan was talking about. The day Stephanie had given them ten minutes alone while she prepared for their trip to London. He’d drawn Drina into the pantry and—

“How could you forget Jenny so quickly?” Susan asked plaintively.

He shifted uncomfortably, not sure how to answer that. Just days ago he’d felt guilty for letting go of his grief over Jenny so soon, but that was when he’d still thought her a life mate. All of that had changed, however, and his mind was swirling with confusion between what he’d always thought and what was true. But Sue didn’t really want an answer anyway, and continued.

“I hated you for that. Jenny died, and it was your fault, and you were just moving on, humping on this—this ho—like she was some kind of bitch in heat. I followed you when you left a few minutes later. I trailed the three of you all the way to London and you were all laughing and having a good time as you walked into the mall. You had your arm around Bat-bitch here and kept kissing her and squeezing her.”

“Bat-bitch?” Drina asked with disbelief, and then her eyes narrowed. “You are the one who tampered with the car brakes.”

Susan lifted her chin defiantly. “I knew an accident wouldn’t kill any of you. I just wanted you to suffer. But it didn’t even slow you down. The next night you two were up in the porch, going at it against the windows for anyone and everyone to see.”

“You threw the Molotov cocktail into the porch,” Drina said wearily, and then arched an eyebrow. “And the one at the gas station I presume?”

“By then I wanted you dead,” Susan said, staring at Harper and not bothering to glance Drina’s way, even as she added, “And slutty vamp there too. Jenny was dead and the two of you were—” She paused and took a breath, rage burning in her eyes, as she said, “I knew the Molotov cocktail probably wouldn’t kill you when I threw it at the porch. But then when I saw your car at the house the next night and crept in to see what was going on and caught her going down on you in the upper hall . . .”

Harper’s eyes widened incredulously. He was amazed that she’d managed to get into the house and up the stairs without their realizing it. The house was old, the stairs creaky. They should have heard something. Of course, they’d been a bit distracted at the time, he acknowledged with a grimace, thinking it was a good Goddamned thing that Leonius hadn’t been behind this. The man could have slaughtered them that night before they’d realized he was there.

“I wanted you both dead then,” Susan finished dully. “You shouldn’t live and be happy when Jenny is dead. I went home and fixed up another bottle. I was going to come back and set the house on fire, but I was afraid you’d just get out and heal like you’d done the last time, so I waited. I heard you saying you would go to the gas station, and I knew that was perfect. If it exploded . . . well, you couldn’t survive that. So I followed you there, but she got out and went inside. I almost threw it anyway, but by then I wanted her to suffer too.”

“So you waited until I came out,” Drina said, sounding impatient now. “Only he caught it, and you fled. So when you heard the search had been called off, you came here to watch the house, and when everyone went to bed, you came in intending to blow his brains out and presumably mine too. All because your stupid, selfish sister decided to steal Harper’s one turn and basically killed herself.”