heard of customer service? I don’t think so.” Mrs. Henderson turned up her nose, tiny tendrils of black smoke trailing from each nostril. I stepped aside.
“It’s nice to see you again, Mrs. Henderson.”
Mrs. Henderson and Nina had a long history of glaring at each other and mild name calling, usually culminating with someone (Nina) being set on fire and someone else (me) coming in to diffuse the situation and sign off on whatever dingbat issue was cheesing Mrs. Henderson off at the moment. Apparently, this afternoon it was Mrs. Henderson’s inability to collect alimony from Mr. Henderson, who took up with a showgirl he met on a dragon’s weekend in Vegas.
“We’ve got little ones, you know. How am I supposed to feed them?” Mrs. Henderson clutched at her pashmina scarf with her jeweled hand and batted her eyelashes.
“The UDA was supposed to serve him with the papers and garnish his wages. I know for a fact he’s making very good money over there at the Luxor, that louse. I’m just so concerned about my little ones.” She choked a manufactured wailing sob.
Mrs. Henderson’s little ones—two ornery, grey-scaled teenaged creatures—were stretched out on our waiting-room chairs, madly texting on their matching iPhones, Juicy Couture sweatpants pushed up over their scaly knees.
I took the papers Mrs. Henderson was waving. “I’ll get these approved right away for you, Mrs. Henderson. I’ll get this request in by the end of the day and we can send out a gargoyle to serve Mr. Henderson tomorrow morning. Your check should be here by the end of the week.”
Mrs. Henderson clasped her hands. “Oh, Sophie, you’re just a lifesaver! I don’t care what they say about you—I really think the UDA is lucky to have you.”
“Um, thank you,” I started.
She quickly put her finger to her narrow lips and her eyes took on a more sinister hue as they looked off into the distance. “Make sure you have the gargoyle get there early in the morning. I only wish I could see the look on that little showgirl-breather’s face when she opens the door to a gargoyle.” Mrs. Henderson seemed to remember I was there then and smiled kindly at me, big eyelashes batting. “You know, for the children.”
I nodded and Mrs. Henderson turned on her heel, leaving me to skip over her long tail. I stumbled backward and got poked in the shoulder by a pushpin holding up a VERM poster advertising their latest meeting. Then I walked down the hall to find Nina.
“Maggots, ugh!” Nina spit out her pale tongue as she sat across from me at her desk. “That is so gross. I hate when maggots get on my food.” She shuddered while I arched my eyebrows. “That’s why I stopped eating leftovers.”
I shut out the image of a half-drained human wrapped in tinfoil that might have once been in Nina’s fridge.
“So, I wonder what Ophelia’s deal is.”
“I don’t know. Just messing with me?”
Nina bit her fingernail. “Yeah, but I thought we were in a fight to the finish for this vase thing. Why would Ophelia be sitting around tossing bugs on stuff when she could be out trapping souls in the Vase of the Lord?”
“It’s the Vessel of Souls. And I have no idea. But I know who might.”
Nina looked up at me, interested.
“My father was there, Nina. It was him. I need to find him. I think he might be able to answer some questions, help us out with this Vessel thing.”
“Sophie, are you sure about this?”
I stood up, wringing my hands. “No, but I know that I have to. Everything is just getting so weird—and that’s saying a lot in my life. Maybe he can help me put some things together.”
Nina offered a friendly, understanding smile, showing off her fangs, her bloodstained lips. “If you think he could help.”
“I think it might be the only way to find the Vessel. I mean, he was hunting for it. Alex said he was the one who got closest.”
Nina frowned. “I wonder what made him stop searching.”
“I don’t know, but hopefully, he can tell me. And maybe get Ophelia out of my life—and my head.”
“Or,” Nina started, aiming her pen at me, “it could open up a universal war between good and evil, with Ophelia picking teams first and us ending up with the pasty kids who spent their school lunch hours playing Dungeons and Dragons.”
I crossed my arms. “So does this mean you’re not going to help me?”
Nina stood up, crossed the room and put her arms around me, squeezing me against her ice-cold chest. “Of course I’m going to help you. You’re my best friend. Besides, what’s a little danger to me? I’m immortal.”
“Thanks. I think. But—for now—this is just between you and me, okay? I don’t want Alex to know that I’m looking for Lucas.”
Nina held out her pinkie and I hooked it with mine. “Deal,” she said.
There was a crackle from Nina’s desk, and then a smooth, velvety voice came from the intercom. “Nina, may I see you, please?”
Nina dropped my pinkie and rushed to her desk, leaning close to the telephone, seductively pressing her breasts together.
“Just one second, Mr. Andrade—I mean, Dixon,” Nina said, her voice a vixenish trill. Nina clicked the intercom off and yanked open her top desk drawer, revealing a three-tiered makeup collection that Lancôme would be jealous of. She puckered her lips and painted them a ravishing red, then powdered her cheeks an even paler shade of pale.
“I thought you were going to show the new UDA management who they’re dealing with. Weren’t you all about keeping the new guy in line?”
Nina snapped her compact shut and blotted her lips, then unbuttoned another button on her blouse. “Oh, I’m all about letting Dixon know who he’s dealing with.”
I rolled my eyes and Nina grabbed my arm, giving it a quick shake. “Oh, come on, Sophie. You have to admit he is a wonderful piece of dead man candy. I mean, those eyes, those lips, those fangs! You know what it means when a vampire has big fangs, don’t you?” Nina waggled her eyebrows and I groaned. “Besides, he’s got all the traits I adore in a man: He’s tall, dark and demonic.” She kicked up a happy leg and sauntered on her sky-high heels out the door, then poked her head back in. “Don’t wait up. I have a feeling I’ll be working late.”
Chapter Seven
The sun was slipping behind the fog when I got into my car and headed home. I was still annoyed with Alex and the prospect of finding—and facing—my father weighed heavily on me. I tried to erase it from my mind, or to call up images of all those wonderful father-daughter reunions on the
I was reaching for my bag when a gentle tap-tap got my attention.
“Christ, Grandma, you scared the—”
Grandma narrowed her eyes, staring out at me from my rearview mirror. “Language, Sophie.”
“You scared me. What are you doing here?”
“I’m here to talk some sense into you.”
I raised my eyebrows and slumped back into my car seat. “Yeah?” The lady in the mirror was going to talk some sense into me? I didn’t know what was more nonsensical: Grandma showing up in my rearview mirror or me holding a conversation with her.
“Word around town is that you’re going to go looking for your father.”
“Word around town? Like, word in
