Under Suspicion

hands, wondering how I was going to tell my very best friend that her new beau was hunting demons.

“My God, Sophie, sit down. You’re making me nervous.”

“Okay.” I sat, taking a seat and sighing heavily. “Here it goes—Harley is dangerous.”

Nina rolled her eyes, stood up, and rummaged through the refrigerator. “Do we have an AB pos?”

“Didn’t you just hear me? Harley is dangerous, Nina. He is behind all the demon issues. He got rid of Mrs. Henderson and attacked Bettina. Have you even read his book?”

Nina popped a straw in her blood bag and her cheeks went hollow as she sucked. “Of course I’ve read his book. Most of it.”

“Most of it? Most of it! Nina, it’s practically a blueprint to kill demons!”

“Sophie, Harley doesn’t believe in demons. His books specifically tells people that they don’t exist.”

I crossed my arms in front of my chest. “No, his book specifically tells people that demons can’t exist.”

“So?”

“So don’t you find it a little suspicious that suddenly demons start disappearing right when Harley and his demons-can’t-exist book comes around?”

Nina sucked out the remainder of blood and then crushed the bag, pitching it into the trash. “Yep, it’s a coincidence.”

“Or it’s Harley making sure that the world agrees with the findings of his book.”

Nina’s newly red lips cracked into a bemused half smile. “You actually think that Harley is going around playing Whac-A-Mole in the Underworld so no one proves him wrong? Sophie, that’s completely ridiculous. He’s an author, not a killer. I’ve talked with him. He’s spent his entire career debunking things. He doesn’t believe in the Underworld. He can’t see through the veil. He had dinner with me, for God’s sake, and trust me—as far as Harley is concerned”—Nina’s fingers slid over her hips and thighs—“I’m all woman.”

“That’s fabulous—and disturbing. But all the evidence points to Harley.”

“Is that so, Columbo?”

I stomped into the living room and snatched Harley’s book from the floor, where I left it, opening to the page with the weaponry photos. “Notice anything?”

Nina glanced nonchalantly at the pages. “That doesn’t prove anything.”

“Think about it, Nina. Harley makes millions based on this debunking thing. What would happen if his loyal public found out that we—you—really do exist and that their beloved guru was the actual sham?”

Nina’s eyes went up as if the answer were written on the ceiling. “Um, I’d say that if Harley actually did uncover the Underworld, and its fabulous inhabitants”—Nina stretched out her slim, long legs and kicked them onto the table—“he would be an instant celeb.”

“Like that Scottish guy who proved that Nessie really does exist?”

Nina frowned. “Who was he?”

“Exactly! No one knows who he was, because he’s in a loony bin!”

Nina tugged on her lower lip. “I’m still not seeing the connection here, Sophs.”

I blew out a tortured sigh and held up my index finger. “One—Harley Cavanaugh inks a one-point-seven- million-dollar deal—”

“One-point-seven million dollars? Where did you hear that? Did he tell you that?” Nina’s eyes went big. She turned to me and grabbed both my hands. “Did he tell you that because he’s planning on buying me a ring?”

“I read it on his website,” I huffed. “Now listen. Harley Cavanaugh inks a huge deal.”

“One-point-seven million,” Nina sang.

“To write a book proving that vampires and whatnot don’t exist.”

“Whatnot?”

“Stay with me here. Two—the book isn’t even in print and Harley makes millions in presales.” I pointed at Nina before she could start. “Also from the website, no jewelry involved.”

Nina shrugged and I kept going, ticking my fingers.

“Three—Harley discovers that demons really exist, making his entire book a work of fiction.”

“Four—Harley finds out that I exist and writes another book, which sells millions,” Nina challenged.

“A book that he writes on spit-soaked napkins while holding a pen in his mouth and wearing a straightjacket because everyone—his publisher, his fans—believe that ole Harley, the debunker, has gone off the deep end. See my point?”

Nina cocked her head, raking her fingers through her long hair and examining it for split ends. “Kind of. But I still don’t buy it. Harley really has no need to pick off demons.”

“He does if he wants to save his contract!” I sputtered.

Nina put both elbows on the table and leaned in toward me. “You know what I think, Sophie? I think you’re scared.”

“I’m scared?”

Nina nodded, dark hair bobbing. “Yeah.” She reached out and grabbed my hand, squeezing it. The chill from her skin went all the way up my arm and I shivered. “But you don’t have any reason to be scared, Sophie. I’m not going anywhere. Harley won’t take me away from you. We’re a package deal, you and me.”

I felt my jaw slack open and I jumped up, yanking my hand out of Nina’s. “Seriously? That’s what you think this is about?”

“I know how you feel, Sophie. You’re like a kite without a tail. Just bobbing along in the atmosphere of love. You’re not connected to anyone, romantically—not Alex, not Will... .”

“You’re kidding me, right? A tailless kite?”

“Hell, you could be a tailless monkey without any bananas if that works better for you. The point is not what you are metaphorically. The point is what you are physically, which is afraid of being alone.”

I jabbed my index finger toward Nina. “No more Dr. Phil!”

Nina ignored me and stood up, mashing me against her marble-solid chest. “It’s okay, Sophie. You don’t have to be afraid. Harley is not going to take me away from you.”

I pushed Nina away. “I’m not worried about you leaving me. I’m worried about Harley killing you!”

Nina’s eyes were sympathetic as she pushed a lock of my hair behind my ear. “You can use whatever metaphor you like, honey, but you and I—we’re in for life. And, you know, afterlife.”

It was hard not to trust Nina. She had never let me down before; and when it came to strong women, Nina was the strongest.

“Promise me you’ll think about it, okay? And maybe stay away from Harley?”

Nina cocked a warning eyebrow.

“Okay,” I backpedaled, “just think about it, and maybe only see Harley in well-lit public places?”

Nina grinned and gave me an icy peck on the forehead. “I’ll think about what you said, but I’m seriously avoiding the well-lit places. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“Now go to bed. You look awful!”

Chapter Twenty-One

I wrestled myself into an oversized San Francisco Giants sweatshirt and whistled for ChaCha; then both of us flopped into my bed. ChaCha started snoring immediately—small, puppy pants of kibble-scented air. I clicked off the overhead light and stared at the pattern the streetlights flashed on my ceiling. Finally I clamped my eyes shut and willed myself to fall asleep.

All I could see was Bettina’s face, tormented, bruised; then Kale, lying lifeless on the wet cement, her head flopping like a rag doll.

I wasn’t going to let that happen to my best friend.

I wouldn’t.