The Reluctant Vampire(78)

“Well, she’s down in the kitchen at the moment.”

“They won’t let her out of the kitchen because they don’t want her to smell up the house,” Stephanie told him, no doubt plucking the explanation from someone’s head. He didn’t care whose.

“She’s very worried about you, though,” Leonora reassured him. “She wanted to be here with you both. She’s probably fretting herself sick down there.”

The words soothed him somewhat but not completely, and Harper sat up and started to get out of bed, pausing when the blankets covering him fell away revealing a Port Henry Police T-shirt and black joggers.

“Your clothes were pretty much just charred bits melted into your skin. They fell away with the damaged skin as you healed. Teddy was kind enough to loan you those and help Alessandro dress you while Dawn and I dressed Stephanie,” Leonora explained quietly.

He glanced back to Stephanie to see that she wore a similar getup. Grunting, he stood, his gaze sliding over a garbage bin brimming with empty blood bags. They were really going through them. In fact, he wondered that they’d had enough to deal with the accident, Tiny’s turn, and now this.

“Leonora opened up the blood bank, and she and Edward brought back a bunch more blood,” Teddy announced, catching where his gaze had gone.

Harper nodded. Leonora had insisted on coming out of retirement after her turn and taken a position at the local blood bank, which had distressed Alessandro no end. Not that he really minded having a wife who worked. It was just distressing to him because they were still new turns, and Leonora’s position meant she had to leave their bed more frequently than he’d liked when she’d taken it on. Especially when he was wealthy enough that she needn’t work at all if she chose.

“Thank you,” he murmured to Leonora, heading for the door.

“Wait for me,” Stephanie said, throwing the covers aside to follow him.

Harper slowed as he headed out of the room, but not much. He wanted to see Drina. He wanted to take her in his arms and never let her go. A man got a lot of things straight when he was forced to face his own mortality, and Harper had realized some things. He loved the damned woman. He’d come to love her fire, her passion, her wit, and her strength. And he was glad as hell she hadn’t been in that room when the firebomb or whatever it was had come flying through the window.

“A Molotov cocktail,” Stephanie said behind him, as he started down the stairs. He only realized she was naming whatever it was that had exploded all over them, when she explained, “The memory of the fire chief saying that was one of Teddy’s surface memories . . . Thank you for dragging me out of the porch.”

Harper slowed at her quiet words and turned to slip his arm around her shoulders affectionately, muttering, “My pleasure.”

Stephanie slipped her own arm around his waist and squeezed briefly, then slid past him on the stairs and hurried the rest of the way to the main floor, turning right at the bottom as if she knew where she was going. Harper followed since he didn’t have a clue of the layout of the house, and they turned into a dining room, where Stephanie paused abruptly, her mouth dropping.

Harper followed her gaze, spotted Drina slumped miserably on a stool in the kitchen at the opposite end of the house and started toward her at once. Relief coursed through him just at the sight of her. He was passing Stephanie when she made an odd sound that had him glancing toward her. He frowned as he realized that her mouth hadn’t dropped open in surprise; the girl was heaving.

Slowing reluctantly, he asked, “Are you all—” And then he came to a shuddering halt as the smell hit him. His head jerked back to Drina with horror just as her head came up.

She peered at them blankly for a second, and then relief lit up her face like a Christmas tree. She promptly leapt off her stool and rushed forward, clutching what appeared to be a ratty old sheet around her as she hurried to him.

“Oh, Harper, Stephanie. Oh thank God!” she cried. “I’ve been so worried.”

Despite himself, Harper took a quick step back at her approach, but then caught himself and forced himself to stand still. He also stopped breathing, however, holding his breath in a desperate bid to keep from gagging as the woman he loved threw herself at him and hugged him.

Drina held him tightly and for a very, very long time. At least it seemed a very long time to him as he continued to hold his breath, but then she finally pulled pack to peer up at him happily. Her smile was wide, her eyes glowing . . . until she saw his face. Concern immediately replaced her relief.

“You’re terribly flush,” she said with a frown. “Have you had enough blood? Maybe you should lie down for a bit. Are you—Harper, you’re turning purple!”