Under Suspicion

I pushed open the door and Nina was under my nose in a heartbeat, coal black eyes wide and glistening, hands splayed.

Nina pushed a glossy chunk of her back-to-black hair over her shoulder, showing off the skinny, beaded strap of her silver evening dress.

“What happened?” Her nostrils twitched. “Why are you bleeding? Will, why is Sophie bleeding?”

Will ushered me into the house. “Someone attacked her in the alley.”

“At work?”

I nodded, and Nina used her forefinger and thumb to pull the neckline of my blouse aside, exposing the purpling wound. “What is that?”

“He—he tried to stake me,” I said, rubbing the tender scratch.

Nina’s mouth dropped open. “Like with a wooden stake?”

I nodded. “Through the heart. Will showed up just in time.”

“I chased him off.”

“Him who?” Nina wanted to know.

I shook my head, looking at my hands as they lay in my lap. “I don’t know. I don’t know why someone would attack me ... would try to drive a stake through my heart.”

“Ah, am I interrupting something?” Harley’s voice was as rich and camera ready as ever as he stuck his head through our open door. His eyebrows were raised; his lips quirked into a smile that was half confused, half interested.

Heat surged across my cheeks, burning the tops of my ears. “So, yeah, steak is my heart. I love it that much.”

Nina and Will exchanged glances and I shot them each a withering look. Will finally nodded and Nina murmured, “Right, steak.” She pasted on a brilliant smile and glittered as brightly as the bugle beads on her Romona Keveza dress. “Harley! You’re right on time.”

“And you look lovely.”

Nina introduced Will, and Harley nodded at me, his smile smooth, flawless. “Good to see you again, Sophie.”

I clenched my molars. “Likewise.”

Nina and Harley sauntered out of the apartment and Will sat down next to me. “You okay, love?”

I shrugged. “I don’t like him.”

“Nina’s a grown-up. Like, really grown-up. And she has fangs. She can handle herself.”

“I just hope she can handle him.”

I woke up when I heard the lock tumble on the front door. I vaguely remembered sinking into a hot bath, and padding out to the living room in my bathrobe, where Will was watching the Discovery Channel. I remembered him handing me a hot cup of tea and a slice of toast. I must have fallen asleep, and he must have tucked the afghan around me, and muted whatever Lifetime movie I had made him watch. Despite the rash of demon abuse, despite the scratch that stung on my chest, despite my roommate waltzing in the living room, I felt oddly snuggly and cared for.

Nina leaned over the arm of the couch, teeth bared in an obnoxious grin. “See this?” She pointed to her face. “This is the face of a woman in love.”

I shifted under my blanket. “Really?”

She batted her eyelashes and did an impressive pirouette, the sparkles on her dress catching the glare from Tori Spelling’s Lifetime movie highlights. My little beaded black evening bag soared from Nina’s hand.

“Thank you for letting me borrow your bag, by the way,” Nina said, kicking off her three-inch heels.

I slid over on the couch and offered her half my blanket. “Tell me everything.”

“First of all,” Nina said, eyes narrowed, “how are you? The attack—”

I shook my head. “I’m fine. It was”—something broke inside me, turned my solid insides into quivering jelly—“not important. I’m going to talk to Dixon tomorrow.”

Nina nodded knowingly, then burst into a fang-baring smile. “Harley is the man of my dreams!”

Just to clarify, Nina had lots of dreams. About a year and a half ago, her “dream” was a newly formed vampire who had lived his breathing years as a puppy police officer with the SFPD. After that, Dixon Andrade, he of large fangs and current head of the UDA, was Nina’s dreamboat—until he doted more on his new power position than on Nina and her lacy Lascana lingerie. And now, apparently, there was Harley.

“He is brilliant,” Nina said breathlessly, her coal black eyes glittering. “Absolutely brilliant! And he’s so dedicated to his work! Did you know he is up at six-thirty every morning, writing?”

“You know what he’s writing about, right?”

Nina ignored me; her bubble of love was puncture proof.

“And he is, of course, gorgeous!” She waggled her hands, spirit-finger style. “He’s got these incredible eyes—they actually smolder—they smolder! Have you ever known someone who had smoldering eyes? And his hair is perfect—not receding at all—and he’s got these incredible, huge, artistic hands... .” Nina hugged herself and I felt the parental need to cover ChaCha’s floppy dog ears, should she start to describe whatever else about Harley might be “huge” and “artistic.”

“Nina, you know he’s a breather, right? Harley’s alive. For the first time—I’m assuming.”

Nina blinked at me, her love bubble un-burst. “Oh, Sophie, Harley is so much more than a breather.” She launched herself toward me so we were nose to nose. ChaCha yipped and hopped off the couch before being the creamy filling in this roommate sandwich. “I think he might be my soul mate.”

I inched back. I don’t have vampire issues; I have personal-space issues. “So you told him about your ...” I raised an inquiring eyebrow.

“About my what? My job? My roommate?”

I rolled my eyes. “Have you told your soul mate that although you’re great in the ‘mate’ department, you’re lacking a bit in the ‘soul’ one?”

Nina flopped back against the couch and crossed her arms in front of her chest. Her full bottom lip was pushed out in a pout. “Not exactly.”

“Not exactly, like you told him you were a little older than he thought—or not exactly, like you nipped a little artery but nothing more?”

Nina gasped. “Sophie Lawson! I can’t believe you would say such a thing. You know I adhere to the strictest standards of UDA-V bylaws. I signed a contract. If I eat someone without their express written consent, I lose all my benefits.”

The Underworld Detection Agency not only keeps tabs on the general demon population, but we also offer such services as crossover support groups (going from dead to undead is third only to divorce and moving in terms of stress, I’m told), insurance on everything from graveyard dirt to heirloom family cauldrons, and protection benefits provided to all UDA clients that adhered to the bylaws of their particular sect. Nina, being a vampire, was classified under the UDA-V statute, and requirements for her coverage included things such as no human sacrifice, no demon sing-alongs, and absolutely no feeding on humans or “turning” anyone without their express written consent and/or prior to the mandatory 666-day waiting period. In exchange for her compliance, she could expect an eternity’s worth of legal protection (from demon harassment, car accidents, or separatist issues), everlife assistance, and full-fang dental coverage. It might seem that demons are a wildly unorganized and unruly bunch, but the times we’ve had to “handle” demons that broke their bylaws were extremely rare.

“And besides, ‘I like long walks, puppy dogs, and O-negative blood’ are not the kind of things you spit out on a first date. There are rules of dating properly, you know.”

I wouldn’t know. Between my constant back-and-forth with Alex (or with being nearly killed or almost killed), I hadn’t spent much time in the traditional dating world.

“It’s really the kind of thing you ease into.”

Nina hopped off the couch—her small feet making no indentation in the carpet—and I followed her to the kitchen.

“Yeah, so how did you pull off the ‘I’m just a common breather’ thing while on a date? What did you guys do?”

Nina raised a salacious eyebrow. Her lips curved up coyly. “Aren’t you nosy?”

“Ew, no! I mean seriously, ew. I don’t want to know what you did there. I meant, where did you go for your date?”

Nina rooted through the fridge and came out with a blood bag. She pierced the left-hand corner with one angled fang. “It was amazing. Ooh, this tastes so good. It’s from a young one!”

My liver quivered. “The date?”

“Gary Danko. Have you been there?”

Gary Danko is one of the most exclusive and well-reviewed restaurants in San Francisco. While in most cities, that wouldn’t mean very much, in a town like this one, where amazing food is common in restaurants from the Mission to the Marina, being “the best” was truly a compliment.

And I had never been there. I felt the corners of my lips turn down. “Tell me about it.”

Nina pulled the blood bag away from her lips. “It. Was. Incredible! The ambiance is almost French—and kind of reminds me of this little tiny bistro my father used to take me to, not too far from the house. Anyway, the lighting was soft and beautiful.” Nina fluttered around the kitchen. “And the food—oh, the food! It was to die for.” She wiggled her eyebrows conspiratorially. “Get it?”

I crossed my arms and leaned against the kitchen counter. “You ate food?”

“Well, I had to eat a little.” Nina inched her thumb and forefinger apart. “Enough to throw Harley off, at least. We ordered carpaccio, so I was able to stomach a little of that. The rest I just found ways to hide.”

“You found ways to hide hunks of raw meat—”

“And truffles and caviar. That Harley knows how to order. We even had oysters! We ended off the evening with a nightcap at the Mark Hopkins. I love that place. Harley is staying there all week. They served us petit fours!”

My mouth started to water and I thought about the peanut butter and jelly sandwich I had scarfed down while sitting on the kitchen counter watching Rachael Ray make coq au vin. I was probably cutting away the tuft of green mold on my Health Nut bread while Nina was hiding two-hundred-dollar-a-scoop caviar.

“Hey. Where did you hide the food?” I wanted to know.

Nina finished her blood bag and tossed the empty into the trash. “I stuffed most of it in my purse.” Another pirouette and she disappeared into her room.

I stood, openmouthed and sadly envious of my best friend. She made the most of her afterlife and I ... Well, I had spent the last four hours of my life in a chenille bathrobe while my dog licked crumbs from my chin.

“Hey!” I said, pounding on Nina’s door. “You borrowed my purse tonight!”

By eight-thirty the next morning, I had polished off my second cup of coffee and had had at least four imaginary conversations with Dixon, where he listened, rapt, to everything I had to say and declared me the head of investigating all the Underworld mishaps with a crew of shirtless men at the ready. So when Dixon actually sauntered into the agency at quarter to nine, I was shaking from a caffeine and sugar rush, and my practiced, impassioned speech sounded like “blahhhhhhh.”

Dixon cocked his head and smiled serenely. “Why don’t you meet me in my office and we can talk further?”

I nodded mutely and followed him. After breathing deeply and allowing my heart to return to a decaffeinated pace, I detailed last night’s events to Dixon, adding extra emphasis to the near stake-to-the-heart encounter.

He furrowed his brow, and wrapped one hand around his chin. “Well, this is very disconcerting.”

I gaped. “Disconcerting? Someone tried to shish kebab me outside of the San Francisco Police Department, Dixon! That’s more than disconcerting, that’s—that’s terrifying!”

Dixon pressed his palms together, pushing his index fingers against his pursed lips. “While I don’t disagree about how frightening your experience last night was, Ms. Lawson—with all due respect—in the last twelve months someone did try to set you on fire, bleed you dry, and frame you for murder.”

“So what you’re saying is nearly being staked through the heart pales in comparison.”

Dixon gave me that thin-lipped, “if the shoe fits” look.

“Fine. My experience aside. Mrs. Henderson. The centaur. Bettina. You can’t honestly tell me that all of these occurrences are just coincidence.”

“Certainly not. But what I can tell you is that as we speak, there is a team of Underworld detectors working on it. So I suggest that you stick to what it is you do best, and let us handle all of this bump-in-the-night stuff.” Dixon’s bloodred lips cut into a sharp smile, which started out placating and ended up menacing. The prickly heat that stiffened my spine last night was back and I edged out of my chair, not blinking or breathing until I was back in the comfort of my own office. I sat in silence. My mind was buzzing like a hive of honeybees, until Kale knocked on my door and poked her head in.

“You have a visitor.”

My heart did a little pitter-patter and my stomach fluttered. Alex? I didn’t want to see him, didn’t want to want to see him. When Will poked his head in, I was surprised that the pitter-patter didn’t stop—and neither did the anxious flutter.

“What are you doing here?”

“Wanted to stop in and check on you. And I brought you these.”

I felt my eyes widen, and felt a tiny prick in the back of my throat. “They’re beautiful.”

“Some are almond, some are plain. Those are dark chocolate.” Will handed me the bouquet of Hershey bars, and my libido and stomach perked up. “Thank you.” I bit my bottom lip. “Hey, I really appreciate your concern, Will, but I don’t need someone looking after me.”

Will sat down, kicking both feet up on my desk. “That might indeed be the case, but some nutter is out there stabbing perfectly good birds in the heart. Who’s to say he won’t come after me next? Safety in numbers, you know? And I can run faster than you.”

“My hero.” I rolled my eyes.

“So ...” Will clapped his hands, looked around. “This is the Underworld Detection Agency.”

I nodded. “It is.”

Will fingered the Post-it notes lined up on my desk, and scanned my bookshelves filled with old college textbooks. “Not all that mystical, is it?”

I shrugged. “What we do isn’t all that mystical.”

We stared at each other for an awkward beat. “So you’re doing okay, after last night? I didn’t want to leave you, but once you started snoring ...”

I felt my cheeks redden. “Oh, thanks for the blanket, by the way.”

“Did you talk to the head vamp about the whole ...” Will made a staking motion with his left hand.

“He didn’t seem all that concerned, but I am. I need to look into this.”

“How about we do it over lunch?”

I cocked my head. “We?”

“I’m not working this week, and there’s nothing good on telly.”

“Let me just buzz Kale and have her bring over the files.”

“Files?” Vlad, in all his Count Chocula glory, poked his head in my office.

“Sophie and I are doing some crime fighting.”

Vlad’s eyebrows went up. “Crime fighting?”

“We’re just looking into some of the incidents that have happened around here. Mrs. Henderson, Bettina ...”

Vlad stiffened and stepped into my office while I buzzed Kale.

“Front desk.”

“Hey, Kale, it’s Sophie. You know how I mentioned that Mrs. Henderson and a few others missed their appointments?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“Well, can you pull their files and drop them off in my office, please?”

We all stood in silence, hearing Kale pop her gum on the other end of the intercom.

“Um, now?” I asked.

I heard Kale blow out a put-upon sigh and I would have been sympathetic if a) gathering files wasn’t her job and b) she hadn’t been a witch who had the power to extract files from wherever they were hidden with a simple tug of the ear. And the fact that she had been oozing her near nakedness on my couch, forty-eight hours ago, also took away from my sympathy for the teen witch.

“You can drop them off in my office when you get them together.”

“No problemo.”

“I’d like to see those files, too,” Vlad said before I had an opportunity to turn the intercom off.

“I will bring those files down to your office right now,” Kale said, suddenly full of spunk and haste.

She was standing at the threshold to my office in record time, a stack of file folders pressed against her chest. Her eyes, the size of two glazed donuts, zeroed in on Vlad.

“Thanks, Kale,” I said, trying to pry the files from her death grip. “Will and I are just going to look these over while we have lunch.”

Vlad stiffened. “As a representative of the Vampire Empowerment and Restoration Movement, and as the new head of operations”—he puffed out his chest and smoothed his stupid damask vest—“I think I should be a part of this investigation.”

Will and I shared a look.

“This could very well begin affecting vampires—if it hasn’t already.”

I blew out a sigh. “Fine. Kale, can I have those files?”

Kale snaked her arms around the files. “Actually, Sophie, I’m personally responsible for these files. If something were to happen to them while they were out of my care ...”

I felt my left eye start to twitch. “Fine, you can come too.”

Kale grinned and batted huge eyes at Vlad. Vlad ignored the waves of love pouring off Kale, crossed his arms, and narrowed his eyes at Will. Will just looked at me, grinning, pleased as punch and probably considering nothing more than a wad of free French fries in his future.

The whole load of us tumbled into the hallway and I bumped square into Nina, who had her shoulder bag crossed over her chest.

“Hey, what’s going on here?”

“We’re going to lunch,” Will said.

“Of course you are,” Nina replied. “Vlad?”

“Official Vampire Empowerment—”

Nina held up her hand and rolled her eyes. “Got it.” “There’s been some activity in the area.”

“What a surprise,” Nina said, fishing in her shoulder bag and retrieving an O-positive pouch.

“Will and I are going to work on it.”

Vlad cut his eyes to me. “Okay, Vlad, Kale, Will, and I are going to work on it.”

“I’m just in it for the chips,” Will said, shrugging.

“Want to come with us?”

“Can’t.” Nina tossed a lock of hair over her shoulder. “I’m working through lunch today. This book is practically writing itself.” She waggled a finger a quarter-inch from my nose. “Mark my words, Soph. My new vampire romance? It’s going to be huge. Don’t worry, I’ll totally give you a nod in the acknowledgments.”