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.
“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. .”
