The Reluctant Vampire (2 page)

“A vehicle just pulled into the driveway,” Harper murmured, then glanced to Tiny and raised an eyebrow. “Your replacements, I’m guessing.”

Tiny was immediately out of his seat and moving into the kitchen to peer out the back window. When he then moved to the pantry to collect his coat from the closet there, Harper stood and followed. The arrival of the replacement hunters was something he’d looked forward to. He suspected Tiny and Mirabeau would now retreat to their bedroom and not be seen much. It meant he could avoid the worst of their obsessive thoughts about each other . . . which would be a blessing.

Tiny apparently saw him coming and grabbed Harper’s coat as well. The man handed it to him as he came back into the kitchen, and both pulled them on as they headed for the door to the deck. Tiny had pulled his boots on while in the pantry and headed straight out the door, but Harper had to pause to kick off his slippers and tug on the boots by the back door. It only took a moment, but by the time he did and stepped outside, Tiny was already out of sight.

Harper grimaced as the bitter wind slapped his face. He followed the big mortal’s footprints in the snow, trailing them across the deck and down the steps to the short sidewalk that ran along the side of the garage to the driveway. With his eyes on the ground, he didn’t see the person approaching until he was nearly on top of them. Pausing abruptly when a pair of running shoes came into view in front of his boots, he jerked his head up with surprise and found himself blinking at a petite woman in a coat far too light for Canadian winters.

His gaze slid from her hatless head, to the suitcase she carried, and then beyond her to the two men by the SUV.

“Hi.”

Harper glanced back to the woman. She was smiling tentatively at him and holding out one ungloved hand in greeting.

“Alexandrina Argenis,” she announced when he merely stared at her hand. “But everyone calls me Drina.”

Removing one hand from his pocket, he shook hers, noting that it was warm and soft despite the cold, then he cleared his throat and said, “Harpernus Stoyan.” He retrieved his hand and shoved it back into the safety of his pocket as he stepped to the side for her to get by. “Go on inside. It’s warm in there. There’s blood in the fridge.”

Nodding, she moved past him, and Harper watched her go, waiting until she disappeared around the corner before continuing on to the SUV now parked in the driveway. Tiny and another man, this one dressed more befitting a Canadian winter, with hat and gloves and even a scarf, were still at the back of the truck. As he approached, the new man pulled a cooler from inside and handed it to Tiny.

Rather than turn away and head back to the house though, Tiny said, “Throw your suitcase on top and I’ll take it in as well.”

Harper smiled faintly to himself. Tiny was a big guy, a small mountain really, and very strong . . . for a mortal. He was also used to being the muscle among his own people and forgot that he was now dealing with immortals who outclassed him horribly in that area.

But the new arrival merely set a suitcase on top of the cooler and turned back to the SUV without comment. Tiny immediately slid past Harper to head for the house, leaving him to step up beside the newcomer and peer curiously into the back of the SUV. There were two more coolers left inside. The fellow was unplugging them and winding up the cords.

“Harper.”

He glanced to the man with surprise at the terse greeting, eyebrows rising as he recognized the eyes that turned to him. “Nice to see you, Anders,” Harper greeted in return as he reached in to retrieve one of the coolers. “It’s been a while.”

Anders’s answer was a grunt as he claimed the second cooler and straightened from the vehicle. He paused to close the back of the SUV, hit the button to lock the doors, and then nodded for Harper to lead the way.

Harper turned away but found himself grinning and couldn’t resist saying, “Chatty as ever, I see.”

When the man basically told him to bugger off in Russian, Harper burst out laughing. The sound of his own laughter was somewhat startling, but it felt good, he decided, as he led the way across the deck. Maybe it was a sign that he was finally coming out of the depression that had struck him when Jenny had died.

The thought made him sigh to himself as he shifted the cooler to open the door to the house. He’d been sunk pretty deep in self-pity and gloom for the last year and a half, and while he supposed it was only to be expected when one lost a life mate, it would be a relief to feel more himself again. He was not a naturally gloomy guy but had found little to laugh or even smile about since Jenny’s death.

“Here.” Tiny was in front of him, reaching for Harper’s cooler the minute he stepped into the house. He gave it up and watched the man carry it into the dining room, where he unraveled the cord and plugged it in. The one Tiny himself had carried in was already plugged into a socket in the corner of the kitchen, Harper noted, and supposed the man was spreading them throughout the house to be sure they didn’t overload a breaker. The coolers were basically portable refrigerators and probably used a lot of juice.

Feeling the cold at his back, Harper realized he was blocking Anders from entering and quickly stepped aside for him to pass. He then pulled the screen door closed and shut and locked the inner door. By the time he turned back, Tiny had returned and was taking the last cooler from Anders. Harper’s gaze slid over the dining room in search of Alexandrina-Argenis-everyone-calls-me-Drina and found her standing beside the dining-room table, shrugging out of her coat.

“If this is all blood, you brought a lot of it,” Tiny commented with a frown as he turned to carry the last cooler away, this time heading for the living room.

“Lucian sent it for your turn,” Anders responded, bending to undo and remove his boots.

“My God, he speaks again,” Drina muttered with feigned shock. “And a whole sentence too.”

“Sometimes you’ll even get a paragraph out of him,” Harper responded, but his gaze was now on Tiny. The man had paused in the doorway of the living room and turned back, a startled expression on his face. Apparently it hadn’t occurred to him that now that he and Mirabeau had acknowledged they were life mates, the next step was the turn.

“A whole paragraph?” Drina asked with dry amusement, drawing Harper’s attention again.

“A short one, but a paragraph just the same,” he murmured, glancing her way. He then paused to take her in. She was petite, as he’d noticed outside, which was a polite way of saying short. But she was curvy too, rounded in all the right places. She was also most definitely Spanish, with olive skin, deep-set eyes, the large brow bone, and straight, almost prominent nose. But it all worked to make an attractive face, he decided.

“Right, of course, the turn,” Tiny muttered, drawing his attention once more, and Harper shifted his attention back to find the other man looking resolute. As he watched, Tiny straightened his shoulders and continued into the living room.

Harper frowned and had to bite back the urge to tell Tiny that perhaps he should wait on turning, but he knew it was just a knee-jerk reaction to his own experience. It was rare for a mortal to die during the turn, and in all likelihood, Tiny would probably be fine. However, Jenny had died, and so that was the first thing he thought of and the worry that now plagued him.

Sighing, he bent to remove his boots. He set them beside the radiator, and straightened to remove his coat. Laying it over his arm, he then took Anders’s as he finished removing it and crossed the room to collect Drina’s as well before ducking into the small pantry in the back corner of the kitchen. It held the entry to the garage but was also where the closet was.

“Handy.”

Harper glanced around to see that Drina stood in the doorway to the kitchen, eyes sliding around the small room. Her gaze slid back to him as he reached for hangers, and she moved to join him as he hung up her coat.

“Let me help. You don’t have to wait on us.” She took the second hanger he’d just retrieved and Anders’s coat, leaving him to deal with only his own.

Harper murmured a “thanks,” but had to fight the urge to assure her it was fine and send her from the room. The tiny space suddenly seemed smaller with her in it, a good portion of the air seeming to have slipped out with her entrance, leaving an unbearably hot vacuum behind that had him feeling flushed and oxygen starved. Which was just odd, he decided. He had never been claustrophobic before this. Still, Harper was relieved when they were done with the task, and he could usher her back into the much larger kitchen.

“So where is this Stephanie we’re supposed to guard?” Drina asked, sliding onto one of the stools that ran along the L-shaped counter separating the kitchen from the dining area.

“Sleeping,” Harper answered, moving past her to the dining-room table to gather the cards from his game with Tiny.

“Stephanie’s still used to mortal hours,” Tiny explained, returning to the kitchen then. “So we thought it’d be better if one of us was up with her during the day and the other up at night to keep an eye on things while she slept. I got night duty.”

“They’re concerned about the lack of security here,” Harper explained, sliding the cards into their box and moving to set them on the counter.

Drina frowned and glanced to Tiny. “But isn’t that backward? You’re mortal, aren’t you? Shouldn’t you be up during the day and this Mirabeau up at night?”

Tiny smiled wryly. “That would have been easier all around, but it’s only been this one day. Besides, while I can hang out with her during the day or night and keep an eye on her, someone has to sleep in her room, which had to be Mirabeau.” When Drina raised an eyebrow, he explained, “We didn’t think it was a good idea to leave her alone in her room all night. There’s no fence here, no alarm . . . It could be hours before we realized she was gone if she was taken or—”

“Or what?” Drina asked when Tiny hesitated. It was pure politeness on her part, Harper knew. The woman could have read him easily enough to find out what he was reluctant to say but was asking instead out of respect.

Tiny was silent as he removed his own coat, but finally admitted, “There’s some concern that Stephanie might try to run away and get to her family.”

“Really?” Drina asked, her eyes narrowing.

Tiny nodded. “Apparently, Lucian caught the thought in her head a time or two. He thinks she only wants to see them, not necessarily approach them, but—” He shrugged. “Anyway, as far as she’s concerned, none of us know that, and someone has to be with her twenty-four/seven because of Leonius.”

“So we are not only watching for attack from outside, but a prison break as well,” Drina murmured. “And because of this, Mirabeau has been sleeping in Stephanie’s room with her?”

Tiny shrugged. “This was the first night. We only got here the day before yesterday, and Elvi, Victor, DJ, and Mabel were here then to help keep an eye on things. But they left at four this morning, so . . .” He grimaced. “When Stephanie went to bed, Mirabeau did as well.”

Drina heaved a sigh, smiled wryly, and said, “Well, I guess that will be my gig from now on. I’ll have a bag of blood, and then go up and relieve Mirabeau.”

Harper had to smile at Tiny’s expression. The man looked torn between shouting hallelujah, and protesting it wasn’t necessary tonight and she could take over that duty tomorrow. Duty versus desire, he supposed. Tiny and Mirabeau had brought Stephanie here from New York, sneaking her from the church where several couples were being wed in one large ceremony, including Victor and Elvi. They had left via a secret exit in the church, and traveled some distance through a series of sewer tunnels before reaching the surface. They’d then driven to Port Henry, where Victor and Elvi had been waiting to welcome the girl.

While Tiny and Mirabeau were officially off duty now that Drina and Anders had arrived, Lucian had insisted they stay to get over the worst of their new-life-mate symptoms. Harper suspected they would feel a responsibility to help out while they were here. They would probably even feel they should, to pay back for staying here at the bed-and-breakfast for the next couple of weeks.

“Drina’s right,” Anders announced, saving Tiny the struggle. “It’s better someone less distracted than Mirabeau be in Stephanie’s room with her. Besides, it’s our worry now. You two are off duty.”

Tiny blew out a small breath and nodded, but then added, “We’ll help out while we’re here, though.”

“Hopefully, it won’t be necessary, but we appreciate that,” Drina said, when Anders just shrugged. She then slid off her stool and glanced from Anders to Harper in question. “Which blood do I use? From the coolers or the fridge?”

“Either one,” Anders said with a shrug. “More is coming in a couple of days.”

Harper moved to the refrigerator to retrieve a bag for her, pulled out three more, and turned to hand them out.

“Thank you,” Drina murmured, accepting the bag Harper offered. She popped it to her fangs, then suddenly stiffened and turned to glance over her shoulder. Following her gaze, Harper saw that Teddy was entering the dining room from the foyer.

“I thought I heard voices,” the man said on a yawn, running one hand through his thick, gray hair.

“Sorry if we woke you, Teddy,” Harper said, and gestured to the newcomers. “The backup Lucian promised has arrived.” He turned and explained to Drina and Anders, “Teddy Brunswick is the police chief here in Port Henry. He’s also a friend, and he offered to stay and help keep an eye out until you guys arrived.” He glanced back to the man, and said, “Teddy, this is Alexandrina Argenis. She prefers Drina.”

Teddy nodded in greeting to Drina, and then glanced to Anders as Harper finished, “And her partner is Anders.”

“Hmm.” Teddy raised his eyebrows. “Anders a first name or last?”

“Neither,” Anders said, and ended any further possibility to question him by popping his bag of blood to his mouth.

Teddy scowled but merely moved into the small back room with its coat closet. He returned a moment later with a coat in one hand and a pair of boots in the other.

“Now that the cavalry have arrived, I guess I’ll go home and crawl into my own bed,” he announced, settling on a dining-room chair to don his boots.