Hannah Jayne - Under Suspicion

I bit my lip, then smiled. “I fancy something with frosting.”

Will reflected my bright grin back. “I’m not really into all of that kinky stuff, but for you, love, I’m willing to risk the sticky.”

I slept restlessly. ChaCha was walking over me and covering me with hot doggie slobber. My mind alternately raced through every Underworld murderer scenario and images of beautiful red roses bursting into flames. I woke up with a start, and went nose to nose with Nina.

“Augh!” I screamed, and clutched at my chest. “My God, Nina, I told you not to do that.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, smiling sweetly. “I’ll send trumpeters ahead of me next time.”

My heart thundered in my ears. “That would be nice,” I yelled over the beat. “What are you doing in here?”

“I heard you tossing and turning.” She pulled her knees up to her chest, and dug her bare feet underneath my covers. “Want to talk?”

“I thought you were mad at me.”

She shook her head, pushing a lock of silky black hair over her shoulder. “I know you just worry about me.”

I nodded. “Not just you, Neens. This is big. I know I said that before, but I’m scared. This is big and it seems so close.” I looked at her; then I looked back at my bedspread. “And you and Harley are getting so close... .”

Nina slung a frozen arm over my shoulder and pulled me to her. “I told you, Soph, you and I are a package deal. I’m not going to go hightailing it off into the sunset with Harley.”

“Because that would make you burst into flames.”

Nina rolled her eyes. “Even when my novel gets picked up—”

“I’m not worried about you running off on a book tour with Harley, Nina. I’m worried about him being dangerous. His book—”

Nina held up a hand. “Soph, two days ago Dixon and VERM were responsible for all of this. A day before that, it was a fallen angel. Before that, it was random acts of demonic violence.”

“I wasn’t sure then.”

“And you’re still not. You’re looking for someone to fit your theory, and you’re making Harley fit. What about VERM? Their one goal in this afterlife is to restore vampires back to their former glory. Well, that and bring back the ascot.” She grinned. “Two major goals.”

“Nina, you know if you’re accusing VERM, you’re accusing Vlad.”

I could see Nina’s jaw stiffen as she gritted her teeth. “Not exactly. Dixon has his hands in VERM, too. He could be using them—using Vlad even—to do his dirty work. It would make sense, you know—the whole pull to bring the vampire population up by bringing the demon population down.”

“You really think VERM would have people out attacking demons—attacking me?”

Nina crossed her arms in front of her chest. The act wasn’t defiant, so much as challenging. “Do you really think my boyfriend would be out attacking demons—or you?”

I wanted to nod. I wanted to tell her, yes, that was exactly what I thought, but I couldn’t push that tiny, three-letter word past my teeth.

Instead, I looked over Nina’s head, looked at the clock, and said, “We’re going to be late for work.”

I spent the majority of my workday hiding in my office reading an ancient Nancy Drew mystery that I found under my bookcase and drawing a crude flow chart of Harley-as-the-Underworld-killer versus Vlad/ VERM-as-the-Underworld-killer. Neither of them got me anywhere, but no one bothered me, and no one came into my office—especially now that I was not only a breathing pariah, but also a pariah with nothing but a broken file drawer stuffed with fast-food menus and a very well-organized line of Post-it notes.

I waited for most of the other employees to leave the office before I gathered my shoulder bag and the remains of my lunch and headed down the hallway. Eldridge was shrugging into his jacket and talking on his cell phone—an animated conversation about meeting someone for a Sound of Music sing-along. He missed me in his enthusiasm, and he also missed locking his office door behind him. I took the opportunity—and my renewed girl-power crime-fighter zeal—to sneak into his office. I clicked the door shut behind me, and dropped to my knees in the darkness. I knew better than to turn on a light, so I dug out my cell phone, crawling toward Eldridge’s desk by the pale, silvery cell phone glow. I slipped open his file drawer and pushed aside a stack of glamour magazines, only to find another stack. His calendar was filled with hair appointments and lunch dates—nothing incriminating. My heartbeat sped up when I looked over my shoulder toward Dixon’s office. The lights were out, and the door was cracked open a half inch. I pressed the cell phone out in front of me once more. Proud of my cat burglar prowess, I took a timid step forward—then another. My cell phone and extended arm were past the threshold into Dixon’s office. My heart was thundering in my ears; the blood coursing through my veins in tidal wave–sized torrents.

I crossed the threshold. I was breaking into a vampire’s private office.

I held my breath, willed my heart to slow to a nonfre-netic pace. And when my cell phone rang, I peed my pants. I also dropped my phone. Grabbing it, I shoved it into my pocket as I sped for the door, taking the corner of Eldridge’s desk to my midthigh. It threw me off balance, as did my shoulder bag loaded with a mushy banana, a bottle of water, and the aforementioned Nancy Drew book. We all went down in an inelegant heap on the industrial carpet. My head hit hard. The Nancy Drew book came around to wallop me in the temple, and I clamped my eyes and my teeth, biting down hard on my tongue. Pain seared through my jaw, and light flashed before my eyes.

It took all of a millisecond to realize the flashing light was coming from the fluorescent light above me and that Dixon was staring down at me, brown eyes sharp, lips pressed into something that resembled annoyance.

“Ms. Lawson?”

He leaned down gallantly and offered me a hand; I took it tentatively, pushing myself up with my other hand.

“Dixon, hi. I’m really sorry.” I looked over both shoulders, worried my bottom lip, trying to stall and buy time to come up with a good explanation. “I thought I heard something in here, and I thought everyone had left, so I just thought ... well, you know, with everything going on and all... . I wanted to make sure that everything in here—everything in here, and with you, was secure. And maybe to see if you needed me to do anything.”

I grinned widely, stupidly, praying that Dixon would see past my terror, sweat, and pee smell—and would send me home or fire me on the spot.

But he didn’t seem to have listened to a word I said.

His eyes were fixed, narrowed, and laser sharp on my lower leg, on the enormous tear in my panty hose. On the velvety red bead of blood that bubbled there.

“Oh.” I looked from the tear to him, at the sharp focus of his eyes, the faint flick of his nostrils. I saw a muscle in his cheek flick, saw the slight bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed.

He was salivating.

“Dixon?”

Dixon avoided my gaze, his whole body bristling. It looked as though it took effort— physical effort —for him to tear his eyes from my cut, from the blood that had now started to dribble in an anemic, itchy trail.

“You need to go home now, Sophie.”

I picked up my shoulder bag and pointed toward Dixon’s office door. “I need to get my cell phone. I dropped it when I”—I paused, licking my lips—“when I tripped.”

“Get it. And then you need to leave right now, Ms. Lawson. You shouldn’t be in here. My office is private, and I need for you to leave right now.”