Under Wraps

“No one took off their shirt!” I lowered my voice. “Like I said, there’s a murderer in the city and the PD is concerned it’s supernatural.”

 

 

Nina looked only slightly interested—although whether it was in my story or her cuticles I couldn’t tell. “You should check with the zombies. They can get so rowdy.”

 

I began stacking files and shoving them into my shoulder bag. “Nah, zombies are totally adherent.”

 

“When they’re on their first brain.” Nina jabbed at my files with one perfectly manicured cotton-candy pink fingernail. “What are you doing with those? Aren’t they confidential?”

 

“The PD wants Sampson to work with them, but he can’t. Too risky to be out after dark, especially if he’s examining crime scenes with that much blood.”

 

Nina licked her lips, and I pretended not to notice.

 

“So, I’m working with Detective Hayes on the case. Bringing in some of the files that we have. Thinking maybe we can locate the perp—I mean perpetrator—from some of our adherents. I figured we’d go through the relevant UDA files and see if there are any clues.”

 

I loved how detectivey I sounded.

 

Nina pressed her pale hands to her open mouth, her thin black eyebrows shooting up. “You’re kidding me!”

 

A little twitter of pride slipped through me, and I hid my smile behind a stack of file folders. “Really, Nina, it’s no big deal. The PD needed some help, and frankly, I’m the only one who can do it.”

 

How totally CSI am I?

 

“No big deal?” Nina hopped off my desk—her landing didn’t make a sound—and turned to me, her palms pressed against my file folders, pinning them to my desk. “You are going to be nose to nose with that hot cop for, for days, weeks, maybe months on end and it’s no big deal?”

 

I hadn’t thought of that.

 

Me and Parker Hayes, alone together for days, weeks, months on end? I imagined us head to head in his office working on the case, the Styrofoamed remains of our on-the-go dinner spread before us … huddled together in his squad car, rushing off to crime scenes … showering together, first thing in the morning…. My mouth went dry, and I found that I was twirling a long strand of red hair around my index finger—my number-one nervous tic. I shoved my hands into my jacket pockets.

 

“The detective isn’t that hot close up. And he’s certainly not all that hot about having me tag along, so I doubt we’ll be spending all that much time together anyway.”

 

So much for our morning shower.

 

“Still”—Nina’s cold eyes skimmed over me skeptically—“if you’re going to run into him again, you really should change your outfit.”

 

“I’m not going to change for him!” I said, indignant. “Besides, he’s already seen me once today. And,” I said, standing, “I look fine.”

 

Nine crossed her arms in front of her own midnight blue vintage Valentino wrap dress—vampires are total fashion whores—and shrugged.

 

“You do look fine,” she mused, “just so secretarial.”

 

I stood up and hauled my shoulder bag over one arm. “I’m an administrative assistant,” I spat.

 

“Fine,” Nina said, stretching out one long, lean leg and examining her newest pair of Jimmy Choos. “At least—” She dropped her foot and leaned into me, her dark lips ice cold as they skimmed my neck. She unbuttoned the top two buttons on my white blouse. “Show some skin.”

 

Nina cocked her head and smiled at me, then batted her eyelashes sweetly. I narrowed my eyes. “Now what?”

 

“Since I helped you, you want to help me?”

 

“Helped me?” I raised my eyebrows, then blew out a resigned sigh. “What do you need?”

 

Nina held up her thumb and forefinger. “Eensy weensy favor.”

 

I set my shoulder bag back on my desk, certain that Nina’s “eensy” was never anywhere near “weensy.”

 

“Oh, no. Every time you need a favor I end up trapped in a demonic vortex or on a blind date with a Minotaur.”

 

“The Nordstrom half-yearly sale is not a demonic vortex, and besides, you said you liked Keith!”

 

“He ate my purse!”

 

Nina held up her hands. “Okay, okay, it’s not a shopping excursion or a date, I swear.”

 

I narrowed my eyes. “On your undead soul?”

 

Nina raised a single brow.

 

“Damn it. Okay.” I sighed. “What do I have to do?”

 

“My nephew is going to be coming into town—”

 

“Nina! You have a nephew?” In all the years that Nina and I had been roommates and best friends, she had never spoken of her family. “You never mentioned a nephew!” I furrowed my brow and frowned. “Wait. How do you have a nephew?”

 

She crossed her arms in front of her chest. “The same way anyone else has a nephew.”

 

I blinked at her.

 

“I have—had—a younger sister, Agnes. Her son is Louis, my nephew.”

 

“But wouldn’t he be like …”

 

“One hundred and twelve. But perennially sixteen.”

 

“He’s a vampire then?”

 

Nina nodded, a flicker of sadness marring her perfect marble features. “Thanks to me.”