Hayes swallowed thickly. “They work up here?”
I shrugged. “They work everywhere. The short order cook over at Fog City is a werevamp.”
Hayes’s eyes bulged. “Tiny? I thought he was a drag queen.”
“He’s that, too.”
Hayes paled a little bit, and I blew out a long sigh and cocked my head, eyeing him. “Listen,” I said, “there are a lot more magically inclined people out there than you think.”
“Oh no,” Hayes started. “I’ve seen a lot of weird things in this city—Elvis, the Easter Bunny on the Fulton 5, Mrs. Claus walking down the Haight with Santa in a dog collar in the middle of July. Even with that veil thing, I don’t think I would miss seeing a vampire on Market. Or a troll.”
“And what would you think if you did?”
“I’d think that I’ve definitely been working too hard.”
I smiled. “Well, there you go. You’re not expecting to see them, so you don’t see them. That’s how the veils work for the most part. It’s not really that big of a deal.”
I didn’t think it was possible, but Hayes’s complexion went a few shades lighter. I rested my hand on his. “They’re just like you and me.”
He opened his mouth to protest, and I held up one silencing finger. “Okay, maybe not just like. But the people of the Underworld want to live their afterlives just like anybody else—steady job, comfortable den with a white picket fence, minivan …”
“And two-point-five demonic kids?”
I ignored him. “The majority really doesn’t want any trouble.”
“Except for the small minority that wants to rip out people’s throats, gobble up their eyeballs, and suck out all their blood.”
I crossed my arms in front of my chest. “Kind of like the small minority of the human population, right?”
“Touché. Okay,” Hayes said, a little bit of the color returning to his chiseled cheeks. “Where do we start, then?”
“Here,” I said, handing him a thick stack of files. “Red flags are vampires. Yellow, zombies; blue, hobgoblins; green, witches; pink, other. We’re not too sure what we’re looking for, so I brought the most likely candidates. Vampires, obviously. But the zombies and hobgoblins can cause similar destruction and the witches—well, you generally want to stay on their good sides.”
Hayes licked his lips and grinned. “What about mermaids? Do mermaids exist?”
I raised one annoyed eyebrow. “Why don’t you jump into the ocean and find out?”
Hayes stifled a grin, taking the files. “Note to self,” he said under his breath, “Lawson is anti-mermaid.”
I shifted my eyes to Hayes, who ignored me. He was shuffling through the first set of documents. “I can’t believe that demons adhere to this kind of structure.”
“Well, vampires are very rule oriented,” I said, rolling my hair into a loose bun.
Hayes looked skeptical. “I find that hard to believe. Soulless bloodsuckers, rule oriented?”
“Soulless bloodsuckers who won’t come into your home unless invited. They are also compulsive counters, obsessively neat, and very polite.” I rearranged my files, feeling a heat creep up the back of my neck as Hayes’s knee brushed mine. “That kind of adherence to etiquette is quite endearing.”
Hayes didn’t look at me. “I suppose,” he muttered.
I frowned at the UDA files. “If we don’t find what we’re looking for in here, I can send out a satellite request for files from the other offices.”
Hayes blinked. “There are other UDA offices?”
“Of course. UDA is worldwide. You should see our Transylvania office.”
“And are all the other offices”—Hayes’s eyes shifted—“underground?”
“No. The one in Spokane is in the back of a Wal-Mart.” I grinned when Hayes raised his dark brows. “Most of the offices are underground. It just makes our clientele feel more … comfortable. More able to be themselves, I guess. They don’t have to worry about keeping up veils or shielding when they’re underground. Not a lot of breather counterparts stumbling into the underground offices, asking to use the restroom.” I offered a reassuring look.
Hayes shook his head. “I don’t think I’ll ever understand the Underworld.”
I picked at another donut, popping a bit of pink frosting into my mouth. “You know all you need to. Demons exist in every aspect of your daily life—”
“And I should stay away from fairies.” He grinned.
“Everyone,” I said, breaking off another piece of donut, “should stay away from fairies.” I smiled back at Hayes, my resolve softening as I studied the warm, pale blue flecks of color in his eyes.
Our moment was broken when there was the sound of shuffling papers, then a chirp from Hayes’s cell phone, and then Chief Oliver was standing in the doorway, his lips set in a hard, thin line. He knocked on the door frame and looked in at us.