“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
“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
“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,
Nina rooted through the fridge and came out with a blood bag. She pierced the left-hand corner with one
