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