“What does he want us to do?” I asked, my mind already plugging my smiling mug into the opening credits of CSI: San Francisco, with Detective Parker Hayes as my love interest—er, partner.
“If we have access to your files, and maybe your … expertise with the, the kind of”—Hayes swallowed—“people we might be dealing with in this case. Well, we think things will run much more smoothly if you and I could work together, Mr. Sampson. It’s obvious you have a wealth of knowledge in this field superior to anything we can glean.”
I glanced at the beautiful old calendar over Mr. Sampson’s shoulder; the one that showed an opal moon moving across a slick, blue-marble night sky and documented the changes of the moon.
“I’m afraid I can’t do that,” Mr. Sampson said, splaying his fingers on his desk. “It just wouldn’t be”—he paused—“prudent for me to be out, above ground, at this time.”
“I can help,” I heard myself blurt.
Both Mr. Sampson and Detective Hayes swung their heads to look at me, and I started to stutter.
“I—I—I mean, I know—I’m on top of all the Underworld documentees and conflicts and I can move up there”—I gestured toward the police station, thirty-seven floors above us—“without raising suspicion. Or without …” All of our eyes traveled toward Mr. Sampson’s set of chains. “… having any issues. Really, I can help.”
That’s right, I thought to myself, Sophie Lawson: CSI.
Mr. Sampson nodded his head slowly. “She’s right. Miss Lawson very likely will be your best bet. She can move freely in both worlds at any time.”
I stood up slowly. “I can still come in, sir,” I said to Mr. Sampson, “and chain you up. And handle all my paperwork and everything.” I was already thinking about borrowing a pair of Nina’s stiletto knee-high boots and her black leather duster. That’s totally CSI, right?
I noticed the muscle jerk along Detective Hayes’s chin again when Mr. Sampson grinned and wagged his head. “Nina can do the honors for a while with me and you’ll still check in.”
Hayes gripped his notebook. “Sir.” His eyes traveled to me and looked me up and down in a less than flattering way. “Miss, with all due respect, the department can’t risk putting a civilian in danger.”
“The department can’t risk the general public finding out that there is a supernatural animal out there, draining people of their blood and ripping out their throats.”
“And eyeballs,” I quipped, certain my usual sallow color has dipped to … more sallow.
“Sophie is going to be your best bet, Detective Hayes. She is one of the only of your kind who can sense a supernatural presence and not be affected by it.”
Detective Hayes frowned. “My kind?”
“Breathers,” I supplied. “Regular folks.”
“The population in general can’t see magic, can’t see demons unless we allow them to. It’s what we call veiling or shielding.”
“Would this veiling work on technology? Like the security cameras not seeing our first victim’s murderer?” Hayes asked.
Mr. Sampson nodded. “Yes. But veiling doesn’t work on Sophie.”
I grinned, feeling a weird mix of pride and shame.
“Occasionally, there are people who can straddle both worlds. It’s rare, but Sophie is one of those people. You need her, Detective Hayes.”
My stomach lurched when Mr. Sampson eyed the detective.
He needed me.
Suddenly all the romance of becoming a super sleuth was replaced by an image of those poor men—actual, dead people—outlined in chalk and crime-scene tape. I gripped the sides of the chair and sat down again. “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea.” Besides, I was really more flannel pajamas and bunny slippers than leather duster and stiletto boots.
“You’ll be fine,” Mr. Sampson said, obviously unconcerned. “I have no doubt that Chief Oliver will keep you safe and Detective Hayes here will teach you everything he knows.”
“Great,” Hayes and I both muttered.
Mr. Sampson smiled, but my stomach was too busy playing the accordion to revel in the warm creases at the sides of his eyes.
“All right then, everything is settled. Sophie will help you with whatever you need. You’ll have access to all of the Underworld files.”
I forced a smile. “I’ll start gathering them up.”
The room fell into silence as we all sat, smiling politely and staring at each other.
“Oh.” I stood up quickly. “Will that be all?”
Detective Hayes stood, reluctantly tucked his notebook in his back pocket. He reached out and shook Mr. Sampson’s hand.
I led Detective Hayes from Mr. Sampson’s office. “So,” I said casually, “I guess we’re going to be working together. How are we going to work this? Should I come up—”
“Like I said, Miss Lawson,” he started, cutting me off smoothly.