The Reluctant Vampire (8 page)

“Chocolate chip pecan cookies,” Tiny announced, his voice gruff as Mirabeau retrieved her hands and his phone and turned back to the refrigerator.

“That sounds interesting,” Harper decided, and moved forward to peruse the little discs. “Can I have one?”

Tiny paused and glanced at Harper with surprise, “Well, yeah sure, that’s why I made them.”

Nodding, Harper took one and lifted it to his mouth to try a bite. Eyes widening as he swallowed, he pronounced, “Mmmm. Good.”

Tiny stared at him silently. When his gaze then slid to her, Drina promptly turned away to begin collecting the Wal-Mart bags from where Stephanie had set them. But she heard him say, “Have another.” And she glanced over her shoulder to see Tiny watching the man closely.

“Thanks.” Harper took a second cookie, and glanced to where Stephanie was hovering over her cups of cocoa. “Can I help you with that?”

“Well, it’s ready except for the water, but if you’ll pour the water in when the kettle boils, I could help Drina carry the bags up to our room.”

“Okay,” he said agreeably.

“Thanks.” Stephanie grinned at him and rushed around the counter to Drina’s side.

“I’ll help with the bags while you boys oversee the food and drink,” Mirabeau announced, as Drina straightened and headed for the stairs. She had just started up when she heard Tiny murmur, “So you’re eating again, Harper?”

“Oh, yeah, I started a year and a half ago when I first came to Port Henry and met Jenny.”

“Your life mate?” Tiny asked.

“Yes, meeting a life mate reawakens old appetites, of course, and I guess they don’t just die if the life mate does. They’ll go away again eventually, but it will take a while I suppose.”

“But I didn’t think you’d been eating since Jenny died,” Tiny said mildly.

Drina paused on the stairs, waiting until Harper answered with, “I guess I was too depressed to be bothered, but going out with the girls today perked me up some, and my appetites are back.”

“Hmmm,” Tiny murmured, and Drina continued up the stairs just as Stephanie and Mirabeau came out of the dining room and started up the stairs behind her.

“Okay, spill,” Mirabeau said firmly as soon as they were in the room Drina and Stephanie were sharing.

“Yes, Drina, show her what you got,” Stephanie said lightly, dropping her bags and hurrying to close the door behind Mirabeau.

“I didn’t mean—” Mirabeau began.

“She knows,” Drina pointed out on a sigh. The kid seemed to know everything. There probably wasn’t a thought in this house the girl didn’t hear.

“I just wanted to close the door so the guys don’t hear,” Stephanie said in a hushed voice as she moved past Mirabeau to Drina’s bed. Sprawling on the twin bed, she smiled at Mirabeau, and said, “Marguerite picked Drina for Lucian to send just as she suggested Tiny and you bring me here.”

Mirabeau’s eyebrows rose as she recognized the significance of that. “Harper’s your life mate?”

“It would seem so,” Drina said wearily, dumping the nearest bag on the bed and beginning to sort through the clothes that spilled out.

“Christ. That means we have another distracted hunter guarding Stephanie,” Mirabeau muttered with disgust. “What was Lucian thinking sending you here if—”

“Because he doesn’t care if I’m distracted.”

“What?” Mirabeau asked with surprise.

“He planned to send someone named Bricker down here to replace me the moment Harper and I acknowledged we were life mates, but it turns out there’s been a sighting of Leonius in the States, which means you guys weren’t followed. Stephanie’s safe, and Anders and I are just—” Drina snapped her mouth closed as she realized what she was about to say, but Stephanie finished for her.

“Babysitters,” the girl said with amusement, and then reassured Drina, “It’s okay. I’m not upset.”

“Huh.” Mirabeau muttered and leaned against the dresser drawers at the foot of the bed. She was silent for a moment as she took it all in, and then glanced to Drina and asked, “So what’s all this nonsense Harper was spouting downstairs about his reawakened appetites being leftovers from Jenny?”

“He believes it,” Stephanie said simply, sitting up to help Drina sort the clothes they’d bought.

Mirabeau narrowed her eyes. “Why? Hasn’t he tried to read you?”

Drina shrugged. “Probably. But I’m older than him by quite a bit. He wouldn’t have been able to read me anyway.”

“And you’ve tried to read him?” Mirabeau asked.

“The minute I met him,” she admitted quietly. “And I can’t.”

“Why haven’t you told him?” she asked at once.

Drina took in Mirabeau’s grim face with a sigh. It looked like she had some explaining to do.

“The girls are taking a while,” Tiny commented as he helped carry the cookies and cocoa to the dining-room table.

“They’re probably
oohing
and
ahhing
over what Stephanie and Drina bought today,” Harper said with amusement. “Speaking of which, a bit of advice; if Mirabeau decides to take Stephanie shopping—just hand over the keys and let them go. You’ll save yourself some humiliation and several shocks.”

“Humiliation and shocks?” Tiny asked, a smile pulling at his lips.

“Hmm. I spent the day being considered ‘one of the girls’ and learning things I never wanted to know about women,” he said dryly.

“Like what?” Tiny asked curiously.

“Do you know what they call high heels?” Harper asked, not expecting him to know.

“Ah, yes,” Tiny sat back with a nod. “Good old FMs.”

“You knew about that?” he asked with surprise. “Do you know what FM stands for?”

Tiny nodded again, and then explained, “My best friend most of my adult life has been a female . . . and, come to think of it, she’s probably treated me more like a girlfriend than a guy friend,” he admitted with an unconcerned chuckle.

“Hmm.” Harper shook his head. “Well, I’ve never been treated like a girlfriend in all my life. It was a bit lowering.”

“Nah.” Tiny shook his head. “It’s a compliment. It means they don’t see you as sexually threatening. You’re a friend rather than a man friend.”

“And that’s a compliment?” Harper asked doubtfully.

“It is if you’re only interested in being a friend,” he reasoned, and then shrugged, and added, “But I suppose if your interests lie in a more sexual relationship, then it’s probably less flattering. Fortunately, I never had that kind of interest in my friend, Jackie. She’s more like a combination buddy and sister type for me.”

“Jackie? Vincent’s wife? The one who is flying in at the end of the week to help oversee your turn?” Harper asked. The big man had called Jackie last night to tell her he would be turning soon. Apparently, his friend had insisted on being there for it, so they’d had to set a date and time. The end of the week had been the decision.

“Yes.” Tiny smiled faintly, and then they both glanced toward the stairs as they heard a door open and the chatter and clatter of the girls returning. Harper smiled, finding himself oddly eager to see them again. The day just seemed brighter with the girls around.

“You look gorgeous.” Stephanie sighed where she lay on her bed, hugging her pillow.

Drina surveyed herself and thought that she looked like a prostitute on the loose.

“You do not,” Stephanie and Mirabeau said as one, making her scowl and turn to the older woman.

“It’s bad enough her reading me, but you too?” she asked with disgust.

Mirabeau grinned and shrugged. “You’re an open book at the moment. It’s hard not to.”

Drina scowled and turned back to the mirror to sigh at her reflection, but her mind was on the conversation that had taken place in this room earlier in the afternoon. Much to her surprise, once Drina and Stephanie had explained things, Mirabeau had decided they were doing the right thing and had offered to help.

Actually, that had been something of a relief. Drina had found it increasingly difficult not to feel guilty about the head game they were playing with Harper as the day had worn on. But Mirabeau’s assurance that it was probably the smartest move had made her feel a little better.

Now, however, she stared in the mirror at a woman she hardly recognized and wondered what the hell she was doing.

“This is the style nowadays,” Stephanie assured her, sitting up on the bed, her expression earnest.

“She’s right,” Mirabeau agreed. “This is what they wear at the bars and clubs.”

“So, everyone dresses like prostitutes now? What’s it called? Hooker Chic?” Drina asked dryly, tugging at the low neckline of the black dress she’d somehow been convinced to wear after all.

Mirabeau chuckled at her acerbic words. It was Stephanie who said, “Stop fussing with the neckline. It isn’t that low. You’re just used to more conservative clothes.”

Drina couldn’t argue that point. She’d always been self-conscious at what she considered a too generous chest and so tended toward high necklines or even turtlenecks.

Sighing, she started to turn away from the mirror and immediately paused to peer down at her high heels. “I won’t be able to dance in these.”

“Then kick them off before you step on the dance floor,” Mirabeau suggested. “I’ve seen women do that.”

“Is that the helicopter?” Stephanie asked, suddenly leaping off the bed and hurrying to the window as they became aware of a distant whir. Pulling the curtains aside, she peered out at the sky, and then gave an excited little hop. “It is!”

“Time to go,” Mirabeau said cheerfully, moving to open the bedroom door.

“I hope I don’t have to walk far in these,” Drina muttered, following her.

Releasing the curtains, Stephanie laughed and hurried after them, saying, “At least you won’t have to worry about blisters. The nanos will heal them as quickly as they form.”

Drina didn’t bother to respond; she was too busy worrying about the curving staircase ahead and making it to the ground floor without taking a header. Seriously, she really shouldn’t have bought these shoes or the dress. She should have bought something she would be comfortable in. But who knew Stephanie the great puppet master-cum-cupid, would maneuver Harper into taking her out tonight?

“Never underestimate the great Stephanie,” Mirabeau said with amusement from in front of her.

“Stop that,” Drina snapped. Good Lord, she definitely didn’t like being read.

Mirabeau just laughed, but she managed to subdue her amusement as they reached the main floor and headed into the dining room.

“Oh good, the helicopter is here and—”

Drina tore her eyes away from watching her feet and glanced to Harper in question when his words died abruptly. He was staring at her, his mouth open, her coat in one hand and the other half-lifted toward the window as if he’d been gesturing outside to where the helicopter was. He looked rather stunned. She wasn’t sure that was a good thing. He’d already seen her in the dress. It shouldn’t elicit this effect, whatever this effect was. Horror was her guess.

“It’s not horror,” Stephanie hissed with exasperation behind her. “It’s awe. While he saw the dress, he didn’t see the dress, stockings, heels, jewelry, makeup, and hair. You’ve taken his breath away.”

“Here’s your coat,” Tiny announced, taking the long faux leather coat from Harper’s unresisting hand and crossing the room to hold it open for her.

“Thank you,” Drina murmured, slipping first one arm and then the other into the sleeves.

“You’re welcome,” Tiny said cheerfully, and she swore his eyes were twinkling as he shifted his gaze from her to Harper, who was still silent but had closed his mouth and lowered his arm. “Well, you two kids have fun.”

Drina smiled wryly at the man, though she couldn’t have said whether it was at his calling them kids when they were both pretty much ancient, or at the suggestion they have fun when she was positive that was impossible.

“Right,” Harper said, snapping to life as she reached his side. “The helicopter landed just across the street in the schoolyard.” His gaze dropped to her heels and turned, concerned. “Can you manage in those shoes? It’s icy out there.”

“Maybe you should wear the thigh-high boots, instead, Drina,” Stephanie suggested suddenly. “Those are FMs too, but would have more traction. They’d also be warmer.”

“Thigh-high boots would work with that dress,” Mirabeau decided. “In fact, they’d be sexy as heck with it.”

“The shoes are fine,” Drina insisted, flushing with embarrassment at all the attention. Everyone in the room was now staring at her legs in the fishnet stockings. Fishnet, for God’s sake! The only thing she could think of that would be sluttier was the thigh-high boots.

“Well, I suppose Harper can carry you if you find it too slippery,” Stephanie said cheerfully.

“Right. The boots then,” Drina snapped, tossing a glare at the teenager as she moved out into the pantry to get them. She almost tried to don them right there, leaning against the wall, but gave up that idea when she nearly fell over just trying to remove the shoes.

Sighing with exasperation, she carried the boots back into the dining room and sat down to quickly remove her shoes. She then tugged on first one boot, and the other, trying to ignore just how much leg she was flashing while doing so. Drina then stood up and moved back to Harper’s side.

“All set,” she said with forced cheer.

Harper tore his eyes away from her boots, swallowed, nodded, and then took her arm and ushered her to the door, muttering, “Don’t wait up.”

She was crossing the deck when Drina decided she was glad to be wearing the boots after all. It was cold as the dickens, and the boots at least kept her legs from freezing. They were also easier to walk in than the shoes, which were probably an inch taller. Not that the boots didn’t have high heels too, but they were at least manageable. She’d felt like she was on stilts in the shoes.

Drina eyed the helicopter as they crossed the street. She then glanced around, noting that traffic had slowed to a stop, and people were looking out the windows of the surrounding houses. As transportation went, it definitely wasn’t your low-profile choice. By her guess, every phone in town would be ringing before they’d lifted off.

Heck, half of them were probably already ringing, she thought wryly, as they ducked to rush under the blades to the helicopter door.