Under Wraps

by Hannah Jayne

  Hayes pointed to the woman’s pale arms lying palm up, the delicate skin on each wrist punctured by two tiny, perfect holes spaced equidistantly apart, the skin puckered as though it had been violently sucked.

  “Aren’t those teeth marks? Fangs?”

  I shook my head. “Vampires don’t leave this kind of destruction. They generally aren’t interested in being caught, in leaving any traces. And the blood—” I swallowed hard against a fresh wave of nausea. “That’s a lot of blood to leave behind. Human blood is a life force to a vampire. They aren’t going to leave that much—they can’t. It’s a survival instinct. And the heart …” I couldn’t finish, and Hayes wagged his head.

  “Maybe the vamp was angry, sloppy. Maybe he wasn’t doing this to feed. Or maybe he didn’t care if he was found out. He certainly didn’t care the last time.”

  “We don’t know that it was a vampire last time. Besides, there is no reason that a vampire would gouge out someone’s eyes. And if he didn’t care whether or not he was found out, why would he bother to put her back in her bed? To veil the pentagram? Why would he bother to make it look like nothing happened?” I found myself whispering the last part: “And why would a vampire take out her heart?”

  Hayes blew out a long sigh. “I don’t know. But I know it’s a vampire. I know you’ve got a soft spot for whatever reason for the pointy-toothed bloodsuckers, but let’s face it: when you hear hoofbeats, you don’t go looking for zebras.”

  I put my hands on my hips. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “It means that if there are teeth marks, I’m going to go looking for vampires.”

  “Vampires. Crap!” I slapped my palm on my forehead and glanced at my watch.

  “What?”

  “I was supposed to pick up Nina’s nephew from the Caltrain station. He comes in in eight minutes.”

  Hayes shrugged. “We’re done here and we’re not too far.”

  “Yeah, but I need to get my car. It’s going to take at least forty-five minutes to get back across town now—it’s rush hour. And then to get back to the train station. I can’t let him just sit there on the platform waiting all alone—he’s just a kid.”

  Hayes pulled his keys from his pocket and dangled them in front of me. “So we’ll turn on the siren.”

  “We’re going to pick him up in the squad car?”

  Hayes was already heading for the stairs and the front door. “Do you have a better idea?”

  Once I had buckled myself into the passenger seat and Hayes had pulled into traffic he looked at me, frowning. “I thought you said Nina was a vampire?”

  I nodded, fishing a half-wrapped piece of Trident out of my purse. Better my breath smelled like purse lint and peppermint than barf. “She is.”

  “So how does …”

  “How does she have a nephew? Same way anyone else has a nephew. And yes, he’s a vampire, too.”

  “Great. I’m going to go pick up a vampire. And now you’re going to have two vampires hanging around?”

  I nodded. “It’ll be kind of nice, actually. Nina and I have been friends for ages, and I’ve never met any of her family. I think it might be fun having another member of the LaShay family hanging around—fanged as they may be.”

  Hayes wagged his head. “I really don’t think I’m ever going to get any of this Underworld stuff.”

  I filled him in on Nina’s history with Louis, and by the time I had finished talking, Hayes’s cheeks were flushed and we were at the King Street Station, the old trains groaning down the tracks.

  “Whoa!” I said, pointing when we were lucky enough to find a nearby parking space. I grinned at Hayes. “You’ve got good parking karma. That never happens at rush hour.”

  He ignored me and stepped out of the car, scanning the hordes of Caltrain riders as they strolled out of the station, beelining for their cabs and buses. “Okay, what are we looking for?”

  “Who,” I said, coming around the car and grabbing Hayes’s elbow. “Louis is a who, not a what. And Nina says we should be able to recognize him right off.”

  “Will he be carrying his graveyard dirt with him, or is he having it sent?”

  I socked Parker in the arm and kept on walking, nodding to the janitor who was concentrating on pushing a broom across the tile floor in the train station foyer.

  “You know him?” Hayes asked.

  “I filed his papers just last week. His wife is going to be coming over from Canada early next month. I’m really excited for them.”

  Hayes swallowed and lowered his voice. “So he’s … what?”

  “Vampire,” I said. “Works the night shift.”

  “I thought vampires were all hoity-toity. You know, big-time jobs or just independently wealthy or whatever.”

  “Some are. But all of them are obsessed with cleanliness.” I smiled and beelined for the number seven train platform.

  “Okay,” I told Hayes once we were waiting on the edge of the tracks, “he should be coming off any minute now.”

  Hayes and I stood on the platform, examining the faces of all the people stepping off. I was looking for someone who bore a vague resemblance to Nina—pixie-nosed, a thick head of blue-black hair, fine-boned—when Parker sucked in a sharp breath beside me.

  “That has got to be him,” he said, his blue eyes steady.

  I followed his gaze and held my own breath, eyeing Louis as he stepped off the train. He was tall—exceptionally so—but shared Nina’s slim build and fine, elegant facial features. His marble skin was porcelain-perfect and made the inky black of his eyes, the rose-wine stain of his lips, stand out. The teenaged girls and young women exiting the train around him clamored to stay next to Louis, despite the fact that he was dressed like Bela Lugosi.

  I was just thankful that he had decided against the cape.

  “Is he wearing a tux?” Hayes asked, leaning into me.

  “No. I think that’s an ascot. Tuxes have bow ties, right?”

  Hayes furrowed his brow.

  “Well, maybe that’s what all the boys wear where he comes from.”

  “I’ll bet,” Hayes snorted.

  Indeed, Louis was dressed in carefully pressed black dress pants with a well-tailored black dinner jacket. A red jacquard vest peeked out from underneath the coat, and a silky, patterned ascot was looped tightly around his pale, elegant neck. His dark hair was slicked back, showing off the same widow’s peak that Nina routinely brushed her hair over.

  There was a thin line of black outlining his dark eyes. “He’s wearing makeup,” Hayes said. “Do you think where he comes from, all the boys wear eye makeup, too?”

  I socked Hayes in the arm again and pasted a welcoming smile on my face. “Louis!” I called, waving my hands over my head.

  Louis’s dark eyes scanned the heads of the group around him before settling on me. His expression remained blank, unfazed, but he headed in our direction.

  “Hi!” I said, smiling brightly when he reached us. “It’s so nice to meet you!” I extended a hand that Louis looked at disdainfully. “I’m Sophie, and this is my friend, Parker Hayes. He’s a detective.”

  Parker and Louis exchanged the universally male partial head bob while I chattered spastically. “I’m your aunt’s best friend. But I’m sure she’s told you that. Do you like to be called Louis or Lou or—”

  Louis’s dark eyes raked over both Parker and me, the expression on his face that age-old vampire/teenager mixture of boredom and contempt. “Actually,” he said, slowly, “its Vlad.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “What was that?”

  “Vlad,” Louis said carefully, his fangs pressing against his ruddy lips. “I prefer to be called Vlad. Louis no longer exists.”

  Parker looked at his feet, but I could see his apple cheeks pushing up into a quiet smile.

  “Vlad?” I repeated. “Well, okay, Vlad it is. Are you excited to be here, Vlad? Have you ever been to San Francisco before? We’re really glad you’re here.”

  Vl
ad blew out a bored sigh. “I was here during the big quake.”

  “Nineteen-o-six or the eighty-nine quake?”

  “Both.”

  “Okay,” Parker said, clapping his hands. “How about we head to the car?”

  “Are you sure you’re going to be okay alone with Count Dracula?” Hayes asked me once we returned to the police station parking lot.

  “Be quiet, Parker. I’m sure he’s a nice kid.”

  “Did you get that from his overwhelming silence or from his spitting glares?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Look, this day has been long—really long. I just want to get home and get Louis—Vlad—settled. I’ll see you at the police station tomorrow?”

  Hayes and I stood awkwardly staring at each other until Vlad blew out an annoyed sigh as he stood on the passenger side of my car. “Can we go now, Sophie?”

  Chapter Seven

  “So, is there anything in particular you’d like to do while you’re here, Vlad?”

  Vlad ran his fingers over the dashboard, and I saw that his nails were painted black.

  “I like your nail polish,” I tried.

  Vlad glared at me, his eyes dark and flat.

  “Aunt Nina got me a job at UDA,” he said finally.

  “Really? That’s great! Doing what?”

  “Mail room.”

  I waited for him to elaborate. He didn’t. “Oh. Well, you’ll love it there. Everyone at the UDA is great. Like one big family, really. Did your Aunt Nina tell you that I work there, too?”

  I felt Vlad’s eyes on me, taking me in. “They let you work there?”

  “Yeah. I work for Mr. Sampson—he’s the head of the UDA. I’m his assistant.”

  Vlad looked at me skeptically and shook his head. “No offense, but I can’t believe they’d let someone like you work at the Underworld Detection Agency. It just goes to show that the demon world is losing its foothold. No offense,” he repeated.

  I frowned, staring at the road through the windshield. “No offense taken … kind of.”

  Seventy-seven-year-old Mr. Howard, self-proclaimed ladies’ man and the building’s resident gossip hound, was nuzzling the ear of a giggling, gray-haired woman when we walked into the building vestibule. He pulled the woman—carefully stuffed into yards of cheetah-print spandex—closer to him and gave her a playful kiss on her wrinkled neck.

  “Sophie Lawson!” Mr. Howard beamed when he saw Vlad and me. He quickly straightened up, a wave of pink creeping across his high cheeks. He looked Vlad up and down and smiled. “Well, hello, young man. Are you a friend of Sophie’s?”

  Vlad remained expressionless, and I was secretly pleased that his deadpan demeanor wasn’t just reserved for me.

  “Mr. Howard, this is Nina’s nephew, Vlad. He’s going to be visiting Nina and me for a while.” I leaned closer to Mr. Howard, stage whispering, “He’s very shy.”

  Mr. Howard nodded and snaked an arm around his woman, then looked down at her, his gray eyes shining with lust as he eyed her heaving bosom. “Lovey, this is Sophie and her friend. Sophie lives in the apartment across the hall from me.”

  The old woman eyed me suspiciously and offered a limp hand, her wrist-load of bangles jangling as she did so. She looked around me then, her eyes widening when they settled on Vlad. She straightened up and pushed out her large chest as her greasy-red lips crept up into a flirtatious grin. I stepped into her line of vision to break the spell.

  Vampires—male and female—have a magnetic draw on average humans. It guarantees the propagation of their kind, though is less beneficial to our kind. I heard Vlad quietly grumble behind me.

  “Don’t you worry, Lovey,” Mr. Howard muttered, his hand firmly working the woman’s rump, “Sophie and I are just good friends.”

  “Good to see you again, Mr. Howard,” I said, my smile wan. “Nice to have met you, too. Vlad and I should be heading upstairs, though. Time to get settled.” I grabbed Vlad by the elbow and pushed him in front of me, then nodded to the couple who immediately went back into nuzzle mode.

  “Look,” I said under my breath, “You’re going to run into a lot of humans here. You’ve got to keep that”—I wriggled my fingers in front of him—“under control.”

  “Of course,” Vlad said smoothly.

  “I’m serious. No glamouring while you’re here. At least not while you’re here, here.”

  Vlad eyed me, but his expression didn’t change.

  “Glad we’re clear,” I said mostly to myself.

  Vlad and I headed up to my apartment. I pushed my key into the lock and dumped my shoulder bag on the hallway floor. If I can just get into the tub—into the tub and maybe into the liquor cabinet—this day will improve immensely, I told myself. I ushered Vlad in, then kicked the door closed with my foot, snapping the dead bolt behind us.

  “Nina should be home soon. Go ahead and make yourself comfortable. If you don’t mind, I’m going to take a bath.”

  “Do you have high-speed Internet?” Vlad asked.

  “Yeah, of course.”

  He whipped a MacBook Pro out of his book bag, flipped it open, and settled himself at our kitchen table.

  I guess teenagers—dead or alive—are pretty much the same everywhere.

  I stripped off my clothes when I walked into the bathroom, leaving them in a trailing heap on the floor. Once I was in nothing but my bra and panties I toed my skirt, blouse, and jacket, noticing an oblong stain of red-black blood on the cuff of my blouse. My stomach lurched and my eyes watered.

  “So much for that outfit.”

  I grabbed the broom and dustpan from the linen closet and swept my clothes into a heap, then dumped the mess—dustpan and all—into the rubbish bin.

  I ran the bathwater as hot as I could get it and upturned a bottle of honey-coconut bubble bath under the faucet. I sniffed and then tossed in a handful of pink crystal bath salts and then sunk myself up to my eyebrows in the hot, soapy water, hoping that the mélange of fluffy bath scents and scalding water would wash away any trace of vomit, blood, and memory.

  Once I felt adequately boiled—my skin warm, pink, and wrinkled—I snuggled into my baby-blue chenille bathrobe and padded to the kitchen. Vlad hadn’t moved from his spot at the table, and now the glow from the laptop reflected off his pale skin eerily.

  “What are you playing?” I asked him.

  He didn’t look up. “Bloodlust.”

  My stomach lurched. “How nice.”

  I poured a glass of Sauvignon Blanc and promptly downed it.

  “Can I get you something to drink?” I asked Vlad. “Nina stocked the fridge for you. She’s got A, B, O pos, and O neg. There’s Blood Light too, but …”

  Do vampires have a drinking age?

  “No, thanks.” Vlad wagged his head, his eyes never leaving his screen. “I’m fine.”

  “Suit yourself.”

  I dumped a half loaf of Wonder Bread on the counter for myself and slathered a few pieces of the fluffy white bread with peanut butter and grape jelly, promising myself that I would go right back to avoiding carbs and eating like a grown-up tomorrow. Then I poured myself a second glass of wine and headed for the couch. “I’m just going to watch a little TV if you don’t mind.”

  Vlad didn’t answer.

  I was picking the crusts off my sandwich and watching a Gossip Girl rerun when I heard the lock tumble and Nina appeared in the doorway, nudging the door closed with her hip.

  “Hey,” she said, coming in, dumping her purse and keys on the countertop.

  I jumped a little, dropping the remains of my sandwich in my lap. “Ugh. You scared me.” I licked peanut butter off my hand.

  She wiggled her fingers and stuck out her tongue. “Woooo! I vant to suck your blood!” Her Transylvanian accent left something to be desired. She giggled.

  “Not amusing,” I said, tossing a pillow at her.

  “Louis!” Nina squealed, when she saw him sitting at the table.

  Louis didn’t look up, and I leaned over
to Nina. “His name is Vlad now.”

  Nina frowned. “Vlad? Really?”

  Vlad looked over his laptop and stood up, gliding silently toward Nina. “Aunt Nina,” he said, grinning, exposing those small fangs.

  Nina stood on tiptoes to hug him, and I got a little warm fuzzy from the vampire family reunion. “This is so nice!”

  Nina stepped out of Vlad’s embrace. “So you’re going to be Vlad now? Seriously?”

  Vlad nodded solemnly, clasping his hands in front of him.

  “Why? Couldn’t come up with something more original, like Lord Voldemort?”

  Vlad glared at Nina.

  “What’s wrong with Vlad?” I asked, popping the last bite of sandwich in my mouth.

  “Every male vamp under a hundred and fifty calls himself Vlad. It’s the Muhammad of the vampire world. You know, Vlad the Impaler? Vlad Von Dracula?”

  I shrugged, and she swung her head to Vlad again. “And what’s with the outfit?”

  “This is the uniform of the Vampire Empowerment and Restoration Movement.”

  Nina rolled her eyes and flopped on the couch. “Oh, man. You haven’t gotten involved with the Movementarians, have you? Ugh, Louis.”

  “Vlad,” he corrected.

  “What’s a Movementarian?”

  Vlad glared at Nina. “We are not Movementarians. We are soldiers of the Vampire Empowerment and Restoration Movement.”

  “And that is …?” I tried again.

  Nina checked out her cuticles. “It’s a bunch of loony vamps that want to drag vampirism back to the dark ages. Hence”—she gestured toward Vlad—“the castle Drac wear. They always talk about going back to the ‘old ways’—and are especially against humans.”

  “Not true,” Vlad said with a hungry grin. “We love humans.” His dark eyes settled on me, and I shuddered.

  Nina glared at Vlad, then climbed up on the couch, standing on a cushion so she was nose to nose with him. She began wagging her finger a quarter-inch from his nose.

  “Look, Louis, if you even think about drinking the tiniest blood bubble from Sophie, I will stake you and behead you myself.”