Nina looked up at me. “I was just asking,” I said quickly. “You’re the one who said he was kind of troubled.”
“Troubled, like he dresses like a Halloween store bargain bag. Not troubled like he’s going to feed on a teenaged glampire. He’s smarter than that. Pickier.”
“Great.” I grimaced.
“I’ll be sure to check on him when we get into work.” I glanced at Nina and she sighed. “And I’ll check on Lucy, too.”
We drove to work in silence until Nina pulled up at a red light and looked at me, exasperated. “Really, you’re not going to tell me anything?”
I grinned. “That’s why you were so quiet this whole ride?”
Nina frowned. “I was giving you space. Space over. Really, nothing happened?”
“Really.”
“But you love him,” she moaned. “You’re attracted to him, right?”
“Okay, yeah, I’m attracted to him. But who wouldn’t be? He’s a warm body—a warm, delicious body with chiseled muscles and a head of hair just screaming for your fingers to run through it….”
Nina snapped her fingers in front of my face.
“Oh.” I grinned sheepishly. “Sorry. What I meant was, yes, Parker Hayes is attractive in a hot-model kind of way. But I know nothing about him.”
“You know he’s a cop, so that’s good.”
I frowned. “I’m starting to have a real hard time figuring out who the good guys and who the bad guys are lately. Being a cop doesn’t prove anything.”
“You know”—Nina pressed her foot on the gas and gnawed on her lower lip—“I wouldn’t expect you to know this—I mean, I’ve been around a lot longer than you have—but there is a way you can find out a few things about ol’ Parker Hayes.”
My eyes lit up. Another spy mission? Ages-old romantic insight? Sometimes it paid to have a roommate who’d been around the proverbial block seven or eight hundred times.
“Really? How?” I asked.
“Try talking to him. I find the classic question-answer approach works wonders in this kind of situation.”
“Wow. One hundred and forty-five years and that’s all you’ve got for me?”
Nina rolled her eyes. “Fine then. You just leave it to me. I’ll pin down Parker Hayes.”
I raised my eyebrows.
“Metaphorically! God, you breathers take everything so literally.”
Chapter Sixteen
“Are you freakin’ kidding me?” Nina had her small hands on her hips, her black eyes wide.
“My God.”
I was staring at the chaotic remains of the UDA offices. The glass partitions that separated staff from clients were cracked and in some places, caked with yellow goo mingled with drying blood. The velvet ropes that demons so patiently waited behind were shredded, and someone had tossed a potted ficus so hard it was sticking like a spear out of one wall.
“What happened here?” I asked, my feet crackling against the spray of plaster on the floor.
“Oh, Sophie, Nina, it’s you two.” Lorraine crawled out from underneath one of the half-crushed desks, and Costineau curled around my legs. I reached down and scratched him, then helped Lorraine to her feet.
“Hello, ladies,” Lorraine said sweetly, picking bits of drywall off of her blouse. “Did you get your invitations to my Tupperware party? There’s a whole new line of product. It’s called Calypso Cool.”
“Yeah, thanks,” I said, my brow furrowed. “Lorraine, what happened here?”
Lorraine pulled a Post-it note from her hair and bit her lip. “Well, things got a little out of hand last night.”
“I’ll say,” Nina snorted. “Look at this place! Who did this? Zombies, right? I knew we should have barred them from the Underworld. Let them stay up top where they belong. They have no manners.”
“It wasn’t zombies. Well, it was … zombies, witches, a centaur family, a couple of trolls. Basically, our whole clientele went a little”—Lorraine’s eyes raked the destruction—“batty.”
“Why, though? Why now?” I wanted to know.
“Well.” Lorraine wringed her hands. “It seems that someone let on that Mr. Sampson is no longer in control of UDA.”
“That’s not true!” I protested. “He’s still in charge. He’s just …”
“Indisposed,” Nina finished for me.
“Who would say that?” I asked.
Lorraine smiled thinly. “Vlad.”
“Vlad?” I groaned.
“What, exactly, did Vlad say?” Nina asked.
“Well, it seems he was holding a Vampire Empowerment meeting in the lunchroom. Something about taking back the Underworld, laying our stake to what rightfully belongs to demonkind up top …”
“Oh, hell.”
“It was rather interesting, actually.”
My eyes bulged.
“From an historical angle,” Lorraine quipped. “I don’t believe in all his separation-of-demon-species propaganda or anything like that, but it did seem to rouse the masses—some of them.”