We crossed the bar and left Piri on the floor behind us, wings pinned to the ground, legs and arms floundering wildly. His bald head was red with effort and when I looked back at him he growled, “Your days are numbered, girl. A prize like you isn’t safe anywhere.”
We stepped out the door, letting it snap shut behind us. Nina clicked her phone off and grinned at us, dropping it into her enormous purse. “What’d I miss?” she asked.
“Nothing,” Alex said, his jaw tight.
I used my index fingers to rub little circles on my suddenly pounding temples. “This is just getting weirder and weirder. I’m a prize? A pixie wants to kill me?”
Nina stamped her foot. “Someone wants to kill you? You said I didn’t miss anything!”
“Like someone doesn’t try to kill me every day,” I said. “It gets old.”
“Surprisingly, it doesn’t,” Nina said with a smug grin.
The streets were deserted as we walked back to the car. As I pulled open the door I glanced behind me, the eerie sensation of being watched pressing against my chest. I couldn’t be sure, but I thought I saw a clutch of ash-blond hair disappear behind an SUV parked a few spaces behind us. My stomach warbled and I swallowed hard, slinking into the car.
“Everything okay?” Alex asked, his hand on mine.
“I’ve just been attacked by a pixie. You tell me.” I tried to force a smile. As the engine revved I chanced a glance behind me and caught him standing on the sidewalk, hazel eyes fixed, blond hair catching the glint from the streetlight. I shuddered. He got smaller as we drove away, standing, unmoving, and I tried to push the eerie feeling out of my head. There could, after all, be the mild possibility that not everyone wanted to kill me, right? Maybe he was just a regular guy interested in what he thought was a regular girl. It could happen.
Right?
We drove home in complete silence. As we pulled up to the light at Van Ness I blew out a sigh and leaned my forehead against the cool glass of the passenger-side window. “Well, that was a total waste,” I said. “We didn’t learn anything.”
“That’s not true,” Alex said.
“Right,” Nina finished. “We learned that Piri wants to kill you.”
I forced a smile. “You’re right. I feel so much better now.”
We let the elephant stand in the car for a full moment before I started again. “What do you think Piri meant when he said I wasn’t human?”
“He doesn’t think you’re human?” Nina asked, maneuvering her car around a double-parked cab.
“He probably just thought you weren’t human because you were with me,” Alex said. “He probably knew I wasn’t”—a hint of sadness flitted across his chiseled features—“real.”
“No,” I said. “Humans don’t always recognize demons. It’s different in reverse. Demons know... .”
“We can smell life force. Can’t you?” Nina asked Alex, as though it were the most natural thing on earth.
“Uh ... no.”
There was another beat of silence, pregnant with the statement no one wanted to make: If I really was Satan’s daughter, Piri was right—I wouldn’t be human. Would I?
I gulped.
“I’m sure it was nothing,” Alex said, breaking the silence. “Just the nonsensical ramblings of a rogue pixie.” As he said it, he avoided my gaze, his eyes solid and set straight ahead. I watched the muscle in his jaw jump as he stared out the windshield—the muscle in his jaw that only jumped when he was considering something huge. He glanced at me for a quick second and then focused back on the road in front of him. “You should put something on the scrape.”
Chapter Ten
I cracked one eye and a bleary face with coal-black eyes, intent on me, came into view. I blinked twice and the face became clear and sharp, angled planes leaning toward me.
“Holy crap!” I sprang out of bed, blankets flying, landing with an inglorious thud on the floor.
“Hey, there, boo,” Nina said, her face breaking into a sweet smile. “Didja sleep okay?” She cocked her head, her thick black hair in sweet Shirley Temple curls that bounced over her shoulders.
“What is going on, Nina?”
“I made you some breakfast. Are you hungry?”
Nina’s gentle smile, her wide, innocent eyes, and her vintage Donna Reed dress completely creeped me out. Something wasn’t right.
“Ophelia?” I whispered. “Is that you?” Nina looked taken aback and I sprung up on bare feet, snatching the closest weapon I could find—a flyswatter in the shape of a flip-flop—and brandished it at this body-snatcher Nina. “What have you done with my best friend?”
“Sophie, it’s me!”
“Look, bitch,” I spat, teeth gritted, “I know my best friend and you are not her. Nina loves me. She would never cook for me.”
Faux Nina stomped her foot and put her small fists on her hips. “Good God, Sophie, would you get your bony ass out of here and eat the breakfast I so lovingly made for you?”
I dropped my flyswatter and leaned closer to Nina, staring into her eyes. I poked her cold marble chest. “It is you.”