Under Wraps (18 page)

“Look, buddy,” Nina said as she gathered her dark hair into a long, slick ponytail. “We’ve been around awhile. You breathers aren’t the only ones who’ve evolved.”

Parker’s eyes narrowed, and for once, I thought I saw genuine terror in them. I considered intervening, but I wasn’t done with my pudding cup.

“Whoa, I didn’t mean to insult you. I’m just trying to figure this whole thing out,” he said, palms up, placating.

“Well, you no longer have to go all bow-and-arrow around dinnertime”—Nina shrugged—“and neither do we.”

Parker looked from Nina to me and back again and dropped his voice. “Vampire restaurants?”

“Something like that,” I said.

“See? This is what I can’t stand. We’re not all crazed maniacs, you know. When you walk into a grocery store, do you start ripping everything off the shelves, tearing into a box of Frosted Flakes with your teeth? No! Sure, when you’re hungry you might make a few bad decisions”—Nina rubbed her stomach and winced—“but you can control yourself. So can we.”

Parker shuddered. “But don’t you … like … the thrill of the hunt?”

Nina’s eyes went wild, primitive, and her lips parted, the pink tip of her tongue touching her sharp incisors. “Do I ever!” She kicked out her right leg and pointed at it. “Dolce and Gabbana slouch boots, forty percent off!”

The color returned to Parker’s cheeks, and he groaned, tossing his pudding cup in the trash. “I don’t know why I was worried. You chicks are all the same—dead or alive.”

Nina cocked her head, her nostrils fluttering as Parker passed her.

“What?” he asked, eyes wide.

“You smell … different.”

Parker’s cheeks flushed, and I tossed Nina my “it’s impolite to sniff our guests” look. “So, Nina, how was Dirt last night?”

“Wait. One more thing,” Parker started, taking a large step back from Nina. “What about the no-sunlight part? Is that true?”

Nina crossed her arms in front of her chest and nodded. “Yeah. You know the whole UV-sunburn thing?”

Parker nodded.

“Well, it’s like that, times, like, a billion. And then we burst into flames.”

I grimaced, but Parker seemed unfazed. “And what about the no-aging part? People have to wonder about that. How do you get around that one?”

“Most vampires are nomadic for that reason. But it’s not as big a problem as you might think. Men never question it; it’s the women who always ask.”

“And what do you tell them?”

“Pilates.”

Parker’s eyebrows shot up. “Pilates? Really?”

“If I even hinted at the truth there wouldn’t be a drop of blood left in the entire hemisphere and I’d be stuck with an undead army of cougars in Juicy Couture. That’s another thing—when you live forever, you become very skeptical of who you want to take along for the ride.” Nina blew out a sigh. “Forever is a very, very long time.”

I stared into my pudding cup and grinned while Parker squirmed.

“Forever, huh?” he asked.

Nina shrugged. I refilled Parker’s and my coffee mugs, and then the three of us settled at the dining room table.

“Okay then,” I said to Nina, “back to Dirt. Anything we should know about? Has there been anything interesting going on?”

Nina shrugged, pulling the morning paper off the counter. “That’s just it—nothing. Apparently there was some big fight there earlier—Thor demons, I heard—so the place was basically emptied out by the time we got there.”

“Thor demons? Fighting? That’s weird. They’re generally pretty peaceful.”

Parker’s eyes flashed, and I sipped my coffee, continuing, “You know, as far as demons go.”

The lock tumbled on the front door, and then Vlad was standing in the middle of the living room, his black-Drac uniform obscured by an ankle-length leather duster.

I pasted on a smile as Parker’s eyes widened. “Vlad, you remember Parker.”

Vlad’s nostrils flared as if he was smelling something unsavory. “Uh-huh.”

“Nice coat,” Parker said.

Vlad’s eyes flashed. “This is the official uniform—”

“We know, we know, Vlad. It’s the official wacky uniform of the Vampire Empowerment and Restoration Movement,” Nina said.

Parker’s brow furrowed. “VERM?”

“Yeah, that’s why we don’t shorten it.”

Parker leaned back and sipped his coffee. “And what is it that this movement wants to do, exactly?”

“We seek to restore vampires to their former glory and power, when humankind was rightfully subservient to our superior race.”

“Well, la-di-dah,” Parker said under his breath.

“It’s just a lame excuse for a bunch of vamps to run around in capes and top hats,” Nina said.

Vlad glared, his blue-white fangs bared. “We are restoring a centuries-old balance of power. Our race has been practically obliterated, forced to flee, to live underground.”

“I thought sunlight killed vampires?” I piped up.

“That’s beside the point,” Vlad said sharply. “The Movement welcomes all vampires”—he eyed Nina—“no matter how far from the flock they have fallen.”

Nina snorted and flipped a page on her newspaper. “Lame!”

“If you’re not with us, you’re against us, Auntie.”

“Fine!” Nina threw up her hands. “Put me down for a bumper sticker.”

Parker chuckled, and Vlad rolled his eyes, crossed the living room in a burst of cool air, walked into Nina’s closet bedroom, and slammed the door behind him.

“Charming kid,” Parker said, raising his coffee cup.

“You should see him when he’s in a bad mood,” Nina said, scanning the paper.

“Are these VERMS—”

“We don’t shorten it!” Vlad moaned from behind his closed door.

Parker lowered his voice to a near whisper. “Are they violent? Could they possibly be responsible …?”

Nina wagged her head. “No. Like I said, it’s really nothing but a bunch of spoiled rich vamp kids with nothing better to do.”

“I heard that!” Vlad whined.

“Good,” Nina returned. “Then maybe you all will forget this stupid movement and decide to do something worthwhile with your afterlife!” She shook her head at Parker and me. “This new generation of vampire—they think they’re so entitled.” She went back to reading her paper, then fingered the edge of her mug and casually looked up at us. “So, have you two had any luck with your case?”

I wagged my head. “No, not really.”

Parker swallowed and glared at me. “We’re doing okay. Hey, what’s Dirt? You mentioned it a minute ago, before Mr. Dark and Broody blew in.”

“Club,” I said. “Underworld friendly. Mostly vampires, demons …”

“The occasional zombie.” Nina wrinkled her nose. “They have
got
to get better security at the door.”

Parker looked at me. “Maybe our perp …”

Nina’s head snapped up. “What was that?”

Parker cleared his throat, pushed his empty coffee mug away. “I think our perp might be”—his eyes studied Nina, her slick black hair, her ruby-red lips pursed and heart-shaped—“of the nonhuman persuasion. Have you heard anything around the club? Any chatter about … conquests, attacks?”

“Conquests?” Nina snorted. “We’re demons, not Vikings.”

Parker raised an annoyed eyebrow. “Fine. Have you heard anything?”

Nina sat back in her chair. “I guess there has been some chatter. I don’t really pay attention though; the band was actually pretty decent last night.”

The bedroom door opened, and Vlad poked his head out. “Chatter? I heard a few things.”

“Now he’s Mr. Helpful,” Nina muttered.

I looked at Vlad. “Heard about what?”

“Lucy—this little glampire I was hanging with last night—mentioned something about a couple of norms harassing her, asking her if she’d do them a favor.”

“What’s so weird about that?” Nina asked. “Breathers are always asking us for stupid stuff—love potions, to feed on someone.”

Parker looked green.

“But I never do,” Nina continued.

“They were asking her about the demons at Dirt, and then they wanted to know about the Sword of Bethesda. If she knew where to find it. They were obviously idiots.”

“Why is that?” Parker asked.

Vlad snorted. “Because they couldn’t even tell a real vampire from a glampire. Lucy didn’t know anything.”

Nina slapped her hand on the table. “Wait, let me get this straight. Vlad Count Chocula, Mr. Vampire Empowerment, was hanging out with a breather? If you’re so pro-vamp, why the heck would you be wasting your time with a breather?” She held up a placating palm to Parker and me. “No offense. Isn’t that against, like, your bylaws?”

Vlad steepled his fingers, his porcelain face remaining unchanged. “The weak-willed breathers are used to doing our bidding. They will be properly compensated when their services are no longer needed.”

“You
have bidding?” Nina asked, incredulous. “What the hell kind of bidding do you have, Louis, seriously?”

I blanched. “Compensated? Like, changed?”

Nina’s face was fierce. “Oh no. No one is getting
compensated
that way. No one is getting bitten.”

Vlad raised a single eyebrow. “Perhaps you think she would prefer a puppy?”

“What is it with you two and baby animals?” I shouted. “No kittens, no puppies, and no turning humans into vampires, capisce?”

Nina went back to reading her paper, but I could see the smile playing on her lips. “She’s tough, Vlad. I’d do what she says.”

“What’s the Sword of Bethesda?” Parker asked.

Nina shrugged. “Don’t know, never heard of it.”

“Don’t you know anything? The Sword of Bethesda is a charmed sword,” Vlad said.

“Great,” Nina said, bored. “And why would I want a charmed sword?”

I gulped. “Maybe to gauge someone’s eyeballs out?”

“Or slit their throat?” Parker asked.

Nina looked pained.

“I didn’t mean
you
would use it to gouge someone’s eyeballs out.” I looked from Nina to Parker. “I’m just thinking maybe that’s what it would be used for.”

Parker shook his head. “When did these guys talk to your friend?”

Vlad shrugged. “Dunno. A couple of days ago, I guess. You can ask Lucy yourself. We’re going out tonight.”

“Thanks, Vlad.”

Vlad slammed the bedroom door. I glanced at Nina, then at Parker, and my eyebrows shot up. “Hey, what if we go to Dirt? I mean Parker and me. You know, like, undercover?”

Nina and Parker looked at me, both their expressions set on “Are you crazy?”

“Just listen. We could slide in, just for a night, and listen to what everyone is saying. Maybe we could get some clues or ask around. I certainly wouldn’t mistake a fanpire for the real thing. Maybe I could find out more about this sword, who’s looking for it—or who’s got it.”

Parker looked at Nina. “Why don’t we just send Nina in?”

Nina crossed her arms. “Why don’t we not?”

I laid my palms flat on the table and knitted my brows. “Come on, Parker. This might be the only way to break this case—or at least to help rule out whether or not the killer is human. And Nina—” I worked the puppy-dog eyes on her. “This could be our only chance to find Sampson. Someone has to know where he is, has to have heard something. A werewolf doesn’t just disappear into thin air.”

“That’s true,” Vlad called from behind his closed door. “That one’s impossible. Dell goblins can, but they’re pretty much the only ones.”

Parker blew out a resigned sigh while Nina looked contemplative.

“Okay,” Nina said finally, licking her lips. “Tonight’s a good night for visiting anyway. Vlad’s going to be there with Lucy, and who knows, you two might like it. Heartstrings are playing and they are fantastic. The keyboardist used to feed on Mozart.”

Parker went pale.

“Okay, great.” I forced an excited smile. “What time do we leave?”

“Wow,” Nina said as we drove to the UDA office that morning, “you’re glowing.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Woke up with Coptastic, have a hot date tonight … I can practically
hear
the blood coursing through your veins. You’re all atwitter.”

I frowned. “I’d appreciate you not listening to my innards; it really freaks me out. And it’s not a date. It’s undercover work.”

“And this morning?” Nina wanted to know.

“More work. And speaking of this morning, why were you smelling Parker? It’s hard enough to tout the benefits of a vampire friendship without you sniffing around him like he’s dinner.”

“It’s just that he smells weird,” she said, frowning. “Not like dinner weird, either. I can’t put my finger on it. It’s different.”

“It’s Buffalo. That’s where he’s from.”

Nina looked at me sideways.

“I smell it, too.” Vlad said, turning down the death metal on his iPod. “What is he, anyway?”

“He’s a detective!”

Neither Nina nor Vlad looked convinced.

“Look, you two, I don’t know what’s stranger—you guys thinking that he smells weird or you guys smelling him at all.”

“He doesn’t smell like a detective,” Vlad murmured, turning up his iPod. “He doesn’t even smell human.”

“What does he smell like?” I asked.

Nina shrugged. “Just weird.”

“He’s human,” I said. “You guys are nuts. I’ve even felt his heartbeat.”

Nina’s eyebrows waggled. “Sexy.”

“Gross,” Vlad contended from the backseat.

We rode in silence until Nina pulled her car into the police station parking lot, maneuvering over to the UDA-reserved spaces.

“Hey.” I grinned, relief washing over me. “That’s Pete’s car. At least one thing is back to normal.”

“Our boss is back at work,” Nina moaned, pulling her key out of the ignition. “Yippee.”

I headed straight for Mr. Sampson’s office when we walked into UDA but stopped short when I got to his closed office door. I knocked timidly, then poked my head in. “Mr. Sampson?”

I pushed the door open when there was no answer and stared at the empty room.

“Sampson’s not in,” Lorraine said from behind me.

I whirled, clutching my heart. “Oh. Lorraine, sorry, you scared me.”

Costineau whined as he circled around her ankles, throwing me dagger glares with his yellow cat eyes.

“I saw that he—at least his car—is here. Do you know where he is?”

Lorraine held the file folders she was clutching close to her chest and pinned me with her stare. Finally, she simply said, “No.”