Under Wraps

Chapter Twenty-Three

Parker cuffed the moaning police chief and handed him off to a herd of SWAT officers in black flak jackets who came down the stairs, helping to load him on a stretcher. Steve stepped out from under the table and barked directions as Parker came over to me, cobalt eyes wide.

“You’re cut,” he said. “I’ll get a medic.”

I flopped—my best upside-down attempt at a shrug. “It’s not deep,” I said. “I’d just like to get down.” I looked at my blood-stained bra, scanned the room full of police men. “And maybe get a shirt on.”

Parker shrugged out of his flak jacket and whipped off his T-shirt, draping it over me. I was hanging upside down, just a hairsbreadth away from having been drained of my blood by a power-hungry psychopath, and my body betrayed me. It went goose-bumpy and a little flutter in my stomach went down (or up?) to my nether regions as Parker’s fingertips brushed over the naked skin on my abdomen.

Sophie Lawson: Sex-Starved Side of Beef.

“I’d really like to get down now.”

Once Parker and the other SWAT officers had me out of the ankle cuffs and right side up, I sat down hard on the concrete floor, feeling the blood rush back to my limbs. I took a deep breath and rubbed my eyes, then blinked, for the first time noticing Vlad—black clad, as usual—as he stepped out from the group of SWAT guys and eyed me.

“Vlad, you’re here.”

He looked away sheepishly. “I’m sorry, Sophie. I told Parker as soon as I put it together about Lucy.”

“Lucy!” My eyes went wide. “Vlad, I’m sorry. I think—I think she’s dead. When I was with the chief, he threw me in his car and she was arguing with him. I heard a gunshot. I think he must have shot her.”

Parker leaned into me. “We’ll check into it, Sophie. Where did this happen? Up at Sampson’s place?”

I nodded. “Yeah, outside.”

Parker stepped over to one of the SWAT officers and told them about Lucy, asked them to check Sampson’s house for any traces of him. I shivered, wrapping my arms around my knees.

“It was terrible, hearing the sound of the gun. I know Lucy tried to kill me and … suck my blood, but, honestly, I hope she’s okay.”

Vlad frowned. “She tried to suck your blood?”

I rubbed at my neck. “It was more like a violent hickey; she didn’t even break the skin. She told me you wouldn’t change her.”

Vlad looked away from me, studied his shoes. “We do have rules.”

“Even the VERM?” I tried to smile, but everything was starting to hurt.

“She thought she wanted to be changed—thought it was a great alternative to her life. She got angry when I wouldn’t do it, when I wouldn’t feed off of her. She smeared blood all over her neck, begged me to change her that night.”

“She told me you bit her. I believed her.”

“Yeah, well, I guess I never gave you reason to think otherwise about me. I knew I should have gotten to Parker sooner. Lucy and I kept fighting, and she started talking about the sword, about all the things that were needed to open the portal—including you. She told me if I didn’t change her that I would be sorry—dead, finally—or sorry. Until she started talking about you, about draining your blood to open the portal, I figured she was just another breather who was convinced she knew how to access the demon world. When I finally realized that she knew what she was talking about, she was already gone. We were both heading to your apartment, but as it turns out, she found you and I found Parker.”

“So you knew Lucy was in on this? Did you know she was in cahoots with the chief?”

Parker stepped up behind Vlad, was silently looking on as Vlad shook his head. “No, not at first—not until I talked to Parker. But I knew she was the one who purchased the Sword of Bethesda.”

I was incredulous. “You did? How? When?”

“It took a while, but I was able to put all the clues together. At first she was questioning me, wanting to know where someone would find the sword. She knew an awful lot about it for—”

“A breather?”

“Yeah. I realized it had to be her. I thought about it, and it all clicked. When you’ve been around as long as I have, you learn to read things about human nature, about primitive desires. I knew Lucy was the one who had the Sword of Bethesda.”

Parker raised an eyebrow, pinning Vlad with a stare.

“And also, she stabbed me with it.”

Parker looked at the ground, smiling.

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.

“Wait,” I said, edging away from Neils after he smoothed a long white bandage across my wound. “What about Mr. Sampson? Has anyone seen him?”

“Miss,” Neils said, “you need to relax.” He draped an itchy, folded blanket over my shoulders.

“Wait,” I said again, ignoring Neils and staring from Nina to Alex. “Please?”

Alex leaned against the ambulance and raked a hand through his dark, tousled hair. “Sophie …”

I stood up. “He’s okay, though, right? You were able to find him, just to make sure he’s okay?”

Nina looked at the ground, and my heart jumped into my throat, constricting my breath. My eyes started to moisten and itch. “Right?”

“I’m sorry, Sophie. We haven’t found any trace of him,” Alex said.

I looked at Nina. “You?”

She shook her head sadly. “I haven’t been able to trace him. Other than the scent—it got really strong a few minutes before we found you—but then it was gone. He was gone.”

My hand went to the bandage across my chest. “When the chief cut me.”

“Sampson must have had a surge of emotion when he thought you were being”—Nina winced—“drained.”

I blinked, staring past the assembled officers and squad cars, the San Francisco streetlights blurring under my tears. “It changed him. When the chief cut me, he changed. He broke through his chains to save me.”

“Sampson’s going to be fine,” Alex said. “I’m sure of it.”

Nina nodded. “He’ll probably even be right back—after the dust settles.”

I let my friends’ assurances wash over me, let the weight of the night sink in. I felt the moist, cool night air on my skin and breathed deeply, rested my head against the open door of the ambulance.

“Rough night,” I whispered.

“Rougher than pot roast night?” Alex said with a grin.

I saw Neils’s eyes go large as Steve strolled up to us, lacing his thick gray fingers through mine. He dipped his head against my thigh and looked up at me, batting his slate gray eyes.

“Steve,” I said, “thank you.” I crouched down to hug him, wincing at the warm ache that surged through me. “Thank you so much for rescuing me.”

Steve nuzzled against me, and I held my breath against his troll stench as he patted my back softly. “Steve wouldn’t let anything happen to Sophie. Steve is Sophie’s hero.”

Alex squeezed in between Steve and me. “I like to think I had a little something to do with this rescue mission, Steve.”

Steve crossed his arms and stared Alex down. “Mr. Superhero likes to think.”

“How did you find me, anyway? And why”—I looked at Alex—“why did you come to find me after the way I treated you?”

“You mean when you stabbed me?” Alex’s face broke into the Parker Hayes sexy half grin, and a shiver went up my spine.

“Yeah.”

Alex shrugged. “I knew you didn’t mean it.”

“And when you stabbed Park—Alex”—Nina smiled sheepishly—“you must have cut yourself.”

I looked down in bewilderment at the ragged split in my palm. “Oh, right.”

“It made it easy to trace you.”

“I helped, too!” Alex protested.

“Sophie was never in any real danger,” Steve said, rolling up on his heels. “Steve had his eye on Sophie the whole time.” He widened his stance, his small hands on his hips, looking satisfied.

“He was hiding in my trunk,” Alex said.

“Steve knew he was not Sophie’s boyfriend,” Steve said, shaking his head toward Alex and then wrinkling his nose. “Something just didn’t smell right about that. Steve decided to trail Alex.”

“Yeah,” Alex repeated, “hiding in my trunk.”

“When I got back to our place, Alex and Vlad told me what happened. Alex had a lead on Sampson—where he might have gone—and Vlad knew that Lucy was after you. We were hoping to catch up with all of you at Mr. Sampson’s. But when we got to Sampson’s place, the smell of your blood and your fear was really strong. And Alex had a feeling about the chief, so”—Nina grinned, her fangs standing out against her red lips—“lucky guess.”

“Lucky twelve-months-of-research guess,” Alex said, his lips close to my ear.

Neils was completely engrossed in our conversation as Steve’s eye narrowed at Alex. I knelt down so I was eye to eye with Steve.

“Look, Steve.” I took both his hands in mine and squeezed gently. “You’re a really great guy—really great. But I just don’t think things are going to work out between us, Steve. Really, it’s not you—it’s me. I’m just not ready for someone as gallant as you.”

I tried to find Steve’s eyes and then followed his gaze over my left shoulder, directly to the impressive cleavage of a female paramedic who was bent over, replacing things in her bag.

Steve looked at me quickly. “Steve could never be the man for Sophie,” he said, his voice and his eyes trailing. “Steve knows that now. Steve only wishes that Sophie would release him from her heart’s viselike grip.”

I smiled and released Steve’s hands. “Consider yourself free, Steve.”

I watched as Steve unzipped his velour track jacket to mid-navel, fluffed up the lichen on his chest, and beelined for the busty paramedic.

Neils stepped in between us, looking from Nina and Franks, moonfaced, swooning, to Steve sauntering down the street, to me. He looked me up and down and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“So what are you?” he asked finally. “Some kind of she-wolf or something?” Neils was keeping his distance from me, his eyes raking me up and down carefully.

I wagged my head and sat down on the ambulance tailgate. “Nope. Nothing. I’m not special like that. I’m just your average girl.”

Alex rearranged the blanket on my shoulders and snuggled me close to him, his lips a hairsbreadth from my earlobe.

“Sophie Lawson,” he whispered, “there is nothing average about you.”