Under Wraps (27 page)

Read Under Wraps Online

Authors: Hannah Jayne

Tags: #Fiction, #Fantasy, #General, #Science Fiction

BOOK: Under Wraps
7.07Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“Mr. Sampson! Mr. Sampson!” I said in my head, hoping that my power would kick in. “Mr. Sampson, I’m so sorry. It’s Parker, Parker Hayes is the killer and I—I—I stabbed him with a fork!”

“What are you doing?” Lucy wanted to know.

I looked at her, rested my hand on her knee reassuringly. “Lucy, there is a lot about this town that you don’t know. Vampires are real, demons are real, and me—well, I’m a seer. I can contact people with my mind. That’s what I was doing just now. Although”—I bit my lip—“it didn’t really work.”

Lucy smiled warmly at me and snuggled back into her seat.

The lights of the Golden Gate Bridge swirled in front of my eyes, and I pushed the gas pedal down once more, hearing the angry groan of the car as it reached higher speeds. I sucked in my breath and focused hard on the road in front of me.

“I’m coming for you, Mr. Sampson. I’m coming for you, I promise,” I whispered.

Chapter Twenty

 

I had managed to get my breathing under control as Lucy and I crossed the bridge, heading toward Mr. Sampson’s ritzy, hilltop house in Marin. I’d spent many a UDA Christmas party running dishes under the kitchen faucet, imagining a brood of half-werewolf kids with shocking green eyes running under foot as I stared over the twinkling lights of the city. It wasn’t exactly that I was obsessed with my boss; it’s just that I’d never lived anywhere with a view.

I pulled my car to a jerking stop in Mr. Sampson’s super-sloped driveway. I saw Lucy’s eyes widen as she took in the house. “Is this where your boss lives?” she asked.

“Yeah. I’m just going to go inside and get him. Do you want to wait here? I’ll lock the doors for you.”

Lucy wagged her head. “No, I can help you inside. Besides, I’m way too creeped out to stay here. Vlad said he would get me.” She shuddered, and I stroked her arm.

“It’s going to be okay, Lucy. I’m really sorry you had to get involved with that. Come on.”

Lucy followed me out of the car and looked on while I fished around for the outdoor key that I knew Mr. Sampson left for his housekeeper, Fortuna. After turning over a slew of damp, mossy stones and sinking three inches into the front lawn, I found the spare key on the porch, under the
Wipe Your Paws!
welcome mat.

“Provincial werewolf,” I muttered, plugging it into the lock.

I inched the door open, poking my head in first. “Mr. Sampson?” I whispered. And then, louder, “Mr. Sampson, it’s me, Sophie. I’m here to rescue you!” I bit my lip. “From your house.”

When nothing but silence answered me, I stepped in, ushering Lucy behind me, and kicked the door shut behind us both. I walked a snaking trail of grass and mud across Fortuna’s sparkling handiwork on the marble entry floor before kicking off my shoes, even though walking barefoot in someone else’s home didn’t seem very detective-like.

I gestured toward the hallway. “Lucy, why don’t you go on down the hall. The bathroom is the first door on the left.” I pulled a half roll of paper towels from the kitchen counter and handed them to her. “You can clean up your neck, and then we’ll see if we need to take you to the hospital.”

“Thanks, Sophie,” Lucy said, taking the paper towels from me. “You’re really sweet.”

Once I heard the water running in the bathroom, I crept back into the kitchen, hoping that Mr. Sampson had pinned an
I am at …
note to the refrigerator. No such luck. I opened the fridge, impressed by his stash of highbrow groceries. It wasn’t that I expected Alpo and Milk-Bones; it was more that I didn’t expect thin-sliced prosciutto, a selection of fine cheeses, and a filet mignon nearing its expiration date. Mr. Sampson certainly did not plan on vacating the house for any period of time. I poked at the steak, grimacing as a blob of purple-red blood rushed around the raw meat.

“Okay,” I said, slamming the fridge door shut, “Mr. Sampson is definitely not in the fridge.” I went into the home office and started opening drawers and file folders, finding a detailed and organized collection of check stubs, timely payments, and platinum plus cards just waiting to be activated, but no giant map with a flag on it, directing an amateur sleuth where to find Mr. Sampson should he ever go missing.

“Crap!” I muttered, fists on hips.

I padded down the hall and popped my head into the last room on the right: Mr. Sampson’s bedroom. Before I realized it I was in the room, my toes disappearing into the lush, mocha-colored carpet. I tiptoed to the bedside, palming the soft fabric of the bedspread: Calvin Klein Home Collection. Egyptian combed cotton. One thousand thread count—if I had to guess. I was very accurate because by that time I was lying on my back, making snow angels in Mr. Sampson’s silky sheets. Sinking my head in his luscious, down-filled pillows. All the tension was seeping out of me and I felt the heaviness in my limbs, the dull ache of my bruised skin and healing muscles. It was while I was reveling, rolling around in my Goldilocks moment that I looked up, seeing Lucy standing in the doorway.

I rolled over onto my stomach and grinned sheepishly. “I was just looking for clues.”

Lucy crossed her arms in front of her chest, her expression unreadable. “So, where’s the wolf?”

I sat up. “What?”

“Your boss. The wolf. Where is he?”

“Uh … how did you know about Mr. Sampson?”

Lucy crossed the room, and we were eye to eye, hers set and hard. “Get up,” she said.

I swallowed, my eyes dropping to her neck. Clean. Scrubbed pink. No puncture. No cuts.

“I thought you said Vlad—”

“Shut up!” Lucy shouted.

“Lucy—” I went to reach out to her, but suddenly my teeth were rattling in my head, my whole body receiving a ridiculous surge of electricity. I felt my blood boil, every hair on my body standing up on edge.

When my teeth stopped chattering, I looked up at Lucy, incredulous. “You Tased me?”

She smiled, giggled girlishly, and pressed one hand against her mouth. “That was neat.”

“I don’t understand.”

Lucy’s hand dropped to her side. She was still smiling at me, and for the first time, I noticed her two pointed incisors. They were longer and thinner than the fangs every other vampire I knew sported, and a weird, pale yellow.

“Caps,” she said, her tongue darting out of her mouth and licking the pointed edge of her left fang. “For now.”

“Vlad wouldn’t change you, would he?”

Lucy’s smile dropped. “No. But I don’t need him to now. And once I’m changed—” Lucy used her thumb to kick on the Taser again, a crackle of blue light zipping across the metal tines. I automatically shrunk back. “Vlad is going to be the first vampire I tell.”

“Who’s going to change you?” I wanted to know.
“There isn’t a vamp in this town who’s going to cross that line.” There isn’t a vamp in this town who’d want to spend eternity with this whiny little twit either, I thought.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Lucy asked me.

“Yeah,” I said, “I would. That’s why I asked.”

Lucy stamped her black-booted foot. “Shut up!”

“Or what?” I challenged.

Lucy flipped the button on the Taser and my stomach dropped. “Or I’ll Tase you again.”

Well, she had me there.

“What do you want, Lucy? What do you want from me?”

Lucy grinned, the Taser gun held steady in her outstretched hand. “I don’t want anything from you,” she said. “It’s what I’m going to get
for
you.”

“Huh?” I asked.

“There’s a bit of a price on your head, Lawson.”

I gulped.
Lucy was working with Parker?
“Are you an angel, too?” I said slowly.

Lucy furrowed her brow when I heard the lock tumble on the front door. “Sophie?” I heard a familiar man’s voice sing. “Miss Lawson?” Then the unmistakable sound of footsteps clattering across the foyer’s marble entryway.

As Lucy cocked her head to listen, I saw my chance. I sprung on her, going chest to chest, my arms tightening around her waist, pinning them to her sides. I heard the Taser clatter to the floor; heard the “ooaf!” of air that came out of Lucy’s purple-lipsticked mouth when my body collided against hers. We clattered to the floor, me on top of her, her thrashing wildly, angrily, her black boots pushing against Mr. Sampson’s expensive comforter.

“Let me go!” Lucy groaned.

“Hello?” I called. “Who’s there? Help! Please, I need help!”

Lucy struggled against me and then lurched up, her lips locking against my neck, her fake fangs pressed hard against my skin. I stared down incredulously. “Are you trying to bite me?”

Lucy bit harder, and I struggled against her, the irony of living with a vampire and being bit by a human just an inch away. I let one arm go and used the heel of my hand to push against Lucy’s forehead, working to peel her and her fake teeth off of me. “Stop biting me!” I yelled at her.

“It’s okay, Sophie,” I heard. “It’s the police.”

I gave Lucy a hard smack on the side of the head, and she unhitched herself from me. I scrambled from on top of her toward the bedroom door. “I’m here! I’m in here!” The words were barely out of my mouth before Lucy was on top of me again, sitting on my back and grabbing fistfuls of my hair.

“Yeoooowww!”

“That’s enough, that’s enough!” I heard the words and felt Lucy being pulled off of me; I flopped flat onto my stomach, gasping.

“Are you okay, Sophie?”

I lifted my head barely an inch and stared down at the spit-shined shoes of Police Chief Oliver.

“Chief Oliver!” My cheeks hurt from the size of my grin.

The chief crouched down next to me. “It’s okay, Sophie. Everything is going to be okay. Are you hurt?”

I wagged my head and struggled to get up on hands and knees. “No, I’m not hurt. But Sampson—” I started.

“It’s all right. Mr. Sampson is just fine. I’m going to take you to him so that you can see for yourself. He’s doing just fine.”

“And Lucy?” I asked slowly. I looked over my shoulder to where Lucy was standing in the corner, just off the chief’s shoulder. Her arms were crossed, her lips pressed into a colorless, fierce line, and she was glowering at me, eyes fixed. I pried my eyes from her and looked up at the chief, relaxing as he slid his meat hook of a hand underneath my arm and helped me up. It took me a few seconds to steady myself on my jellied, quivering legs.

And then I was looking down the greasy-black barrel of a gun.

“Shouldn’t you be pointing that at her?” I whispered, my eyes going to Lucy, whose lips were now curved up in a satisfied snarl.

“Oh. Wait. It’s okay,” I said, looking back at the chief, my voice suddenly even. “You know about Parker. Don’t worry; I’m not with him. Parker’s not here.” I angled my head around the barrel of the gun, shielded my mouth with my hand. “I think Lucy might be working with him. We have to find him. We have to find him and get to Sampson. You know where he is. You know where Mr. Sampson is, right?”

Chief Oliver grinned broadly at me and cocked the hammer.

The breath left my body.

“Chief Oliver?”

“Don’t worry, Sophie. I know exactly where Sampson is. I can take you right to him. Would you like that?”

My eyes widened, held by the black gun barrel. “Lucy?” I whispered, my dry lips trembling, my eyes starting to water. I chanced a look over at her, and her eyes were fixated on the gun, her expression a freaky mix of terror and pleasure. At this point, I would really rather take my chances with the impish fake-vamp than with the chief and his exceptionally real gun.

“Don’t you worry about Lucy,” the chief told me. “Lucy is doing exactly what she was supposed to do.”

I gulped. “And that would be?” My voice was little more than a hoarse whisper.

“That would be to bring you here, bring you to the chief. Didn’t I do well?” Lucy asked.

I just nodded dumbly, falling against Chief Oliver as his fingers dug into my shoulder.

“And you, Sophie, did everything you were supposed to do, too. You led Sampson right to me.”

I felt my eyebrows rise, and I shook my head. “No.”

The chief grinned. “Yes. That night by your car? I was just out looking for some half-breed blood. Didn’t even count on getting the dog, but lo and behold—you hurt the owner and the dog comes running.”

I felt my lower lip start to quiver, felt the ache in my head. “Mr. Sampson rescued me … from you?” I whispered.

“Oh, yes. Beautiful moment, really. Would have been nicer, too, if I hadn’t had to Tase the son of a bitch. He did put up quite a fight.” He clucked his tongue, shaking his head. “Tough to see a dog whimper like that.”

I heard Lucy simper in the corner, her hands pressed up against her mouth, her small shoulders trembling under the weight of her laughter.

“She’s with you?” I murmured, fitting the whole scene together.

“Anyway,” the chief continued, ignoring me, “I guess I should thank you. Really, I couldn’t have done it without your help. Sampson was going to be a tough one.”

My stomach lurched, and I swallowed a miserable wail.

“Oh, but enough revelry. Come on now.” Chief Oliver pushed me in front of him. “Lucy?” he said, and I stiffened, feeling the gun angled between my shoulder blades. He tapped it harshly against me. “Step lively, demon girl, I don’t have all night.”

“Oh, Chief Oliver, I’m not a demon.” I wagged my head, feeling a hysterical giggle escaping my lips. “Is that what you thought? No, I’m human. All human. I’m just an administrative assistant at the Underground. I file papers. I can prove it.” I took a chance, craning my neck to look over my shoulder and smiling hopefully into the chief’s stiff grimace. “Do you have any papers you’d like me to file? Alphabetically, chronologically? I’m really very good.”

He nudged me with the gun again, and I stumbled into the hallway.

“Just keep moving. I know exactly what you are, Miss Lawson. I know who you are, and I knew who your grandmother was.”

I paused and then winced as the chief drove the gun hard into my spine. “Keep walking,” he growled, the stubble from his chin grazing my ear. “You don’t want to make this difficult for yourself, do you?”

I wagged my head and gulped, feeling the lump growing in my throat. “Is Parker a part of this, too?”

Other books

El inventor de historias by Marta Rivera de la Cruz
Sarah's Surrender by Lynda Chance
A Quiet Adjustment by Benjamin Markovits
Woman on Top by Deborah Schwartz
The Enemy Inside by Steve Martini
The Tycoon Meets His Match by Barbara Benedict
Grave Stones by Priscilla Masters