Vlad rubbed his abdomen. “Kind of ineffectual, but still rather offensive.”
“Oh, Vlad, I’m so sorry.” For the first time I realized that under his black, ankle-length leather duster he was wearing black denim jeans and a Buffy the Vampire Slayer T-shirt. There was a three-inch gash through the fabric at Buffy’s slim midriff. I smiled. “Nice shirt, though.”
Vlad tried to hold his blank expression steady, but I could see the hint of a smile playing at the edge of his lips. “The irony pleases me.”
Parker bent down next to me, his face drawn with concern. “Okay, enough. We can sort everything out later, and I’ve got a couple of cars headed over to Sampson’s place now. How are you? Are you okay? Are you hurt very badly?”
I swallowed. “I’m okay. Just a little wobbly. I would really just like to get out of here.”
I went to push myself up, but Parker smoothly slid his arms underneath me, cradling me against his chest and picking me up in one motion. “You shouldn’t walk,” he murmured into my hair, “not until we get a medic in to see you.”
Parker carried me up the stairs and out into the cold night air as Vlad followed behind us. People stood on tiptoes behind a police barricade, watching, and squad cars were creating a makeshift perimeter. I craned my neck and realized that we were at City Hall.
“We were under City Hall the whole time?”
“It seems Chief Oliver had a whole setup to go along with his plan of opening up a portal. We’ve been tracking him for over a year.”
“That’s right!” I leaned back as far as I dared from Parker’s smooth, naked chest. “You’re not Parker Hayes! You’re not a detective. Who are you?”
Parker gently set me down on a stretcher in front of one of the ambulances. “She’s been cut,” he told the paramedic. “She needs attention. Sophie, Neils here is going to take care of you.” Parker stepped aside, and Neils—with an Elvis-worthy pompadour and a pair of latex gloves—came at me with an alcohol-soaked gauze strip.
“This might sting a bit,” Neils warned me.
“Wait!” I tried to stamp my foot, to glare at fake Parker, but the bulbous bouffant of the paramedic was in my way. “Who are you?”
My mind raced as Parker stared at me, blank faced, lips drawn.
He was an angel. A liar. Loony toons.
“I’m an FBI agent,” he said finally. “My name is Alex Grace.”
Or he was an FBI agent.
I raised my eyebrows. “Weren’t you a—”
Parker pursed his lips and pressed his finger against them, his eyes sparking that brilliant blue.
“Sophie!” Nina squealed.
I looked up to see her rushing across the parking lot toward me, the moonlight glinting off her pale skin. Her black hair framed her face—eyes wide, brows furrowed, ruby lips held taut. She edged herself in front of Neils and threw her arms around me when she reached me, crushing me against her cold, tiny chest.
“Nina,” I gasped as a whoosh of air went out of me.
“Sorry!” she said, softening her grip. “After what Vlad said about Lucy, I was just so worried about you! You must have been terrified—I could smell you a mile away!”
I sat back, my cheeks burning red. “Because I was scared,” I explained. “She can smell fear.” I was attempting to explain to Parker—er, Agent Grace—and the bewildered Neils when the man standing behind Nina caught my eye.
“Nina?” I asked, still staring at the man behind her.
Nina turned, weaving her arm through his. “Sophie, this is—”
“Officer Franks!” I exclaimed, examining Opie’s smooth, undead complexion, his strawberry-blond hair standing out fiercely red against his now-pale forehead. He grinned at me—that same goofy, toothy smile—and I could see delicate fangs pressing against his lower lip. He tipped his head to look lovingly into Nina’s eyes, and I could see the two tiny puncture wounds on the side of his neck.
“Nina!” I hissed. “You didn’t!”
Vlad glared, put both of his hands on his hips. “I can’t turn anyone, but she can? God! There is such a double standard around here!”
I smiled, shared a private look with Vlad while Nina looked sheepish, kicking at the ground with brand-new black leather peep-toe ankle boots. “I know I shouldn’t have, but he had hardly been dead an hour when we found him,” she said, staring up into Opie’s black marble eyes, “and then I just couldn’t resist.” She snuggled close to him. “He’s just so darling!” She inclined her head toward me and whispered, “Isn’t he just luscious?”
Nina turned, her dark eyes settling on Alex’s naked chest. “Speaking of luscious …”
A blush of crimson washed over Alex, and he shrugged back into his flak jacket. He looked from me to Neils, his blue eyes reflecting the dark sky. “Is she going to be okay?”
“She would if she’d hold still,” Neils answered.