Under a Spell uda-5 Page 24

  “Miranda! Miranda!” I was huffing and out of breath by the time I crested the third-floor landing; I could feel the heat well in my cheeks as I gasped.

  “Oh my God,” Nina said, flinging the door open. She sped out into the hall and crushed me to her, pulling me through the door. “Running for your life?”

  “No,” I gasped, doubling over with my hands on my knees. “Just running. Where’s Miranda?”

  “She’s with Vlad,” Will said calmly, coming through the front door.

  “What?”

  He held up his cell phone. “While you were busy on your sprint I called Nina, who told me that Miranda was no longer at the apartment, as she has gone off with Vlad.” He gave the phone a little shake and shot me the most annoyingly self-congratulatory grin I had ever seen.

  I swore to myself I would pummel him if I were ever able to catch my breath again. “Okay, so we know Miranda’s safe. Well, safe enough. What now?”

  “Fallon.”

  I felt instantly guilty for not springing into the same, lung-exploding action over her.

  “We’re not entirely sure these girls are in danger right now,” Will said, his expression placating. “I’ll give Fallon’s house a ring, tell her to keep a lookout. You’ve already called Alex and gotten the police department on Bud.”

  My stomach burned at the mention of Alex—even more so at the idea of Alex listening to anything I said.

  “And then you should take a nap. Yes?”

  I started. “Wait, what? A nap?” I said, frowning. “I’m not a child. Why are you treating me like a child? I found the clue that cracked this case wide open.”

  Will crossed the living room in two quick strides and gave me a soft pat on the head. “Of course you did.”

  “I’m going after Bud. Now.” I took a step forward, but Will caught me and held me a hairsbreadth from him. I was staring into his eyes; I could smell the slight scent of mint on his breath. My heart thumped. My nipples sprung to attention, and I vaguely wondered if I would ever be able to be aroused in circumstances that didn’t include a possible serial criminal or imminent danger.

  “Let Alex handle it.”

  He gave me a peck on the forehead and sauntered out the door.

  Chapter Seventeen

  I could feel Nina’s eyes on me, and when I turned she had her arms crossed in front of her chest, one hip cocked, and an expression on her face that meant she was about to shake up the world. “You’re not planning on taking any kind of nap, are you?”

  “Oh, so you’ve met me before.”

  She grinned. “Okay, out with it. I need to know what harebrained scheme I’m going to have to pull you out of. You’re my commodity, you know.”

  “Is this about my underwear again?”

  Nina rolled her eyes and straightened her directorial beret. “No, this is about you being my star for the UDA commercial.”

  I gave her a once-over, for the first time that night taking in her knee boots, jodhpurs, and the enormous ecru scarf knotted around her neck. “Nice outfit.”

  “You’ve got to dress the part to be the part,” she said with a slick, fang-bearing grin. “Or fake it ’til you make it.”

  I wrapped a piece of hair around my finger. “Fake it ’til I make it, huh? Yeah, yeah, Neens, you’re totally right. I don’t need to wait for Will. I don’t need to take a nap. And I sure as hell don’t need Alex. All I need are his files.”

  Nina picked up the stack heaped on the dining room table. “These are the ones Vlad printed out for you.”

  “These are the official files. They were good enough, but I need more. Alex keeps his notes—handwritten ones, stacked with info—in his office. But now that I don’t have him to rely on, I need to get a hold of those notes.”

  Nina’s eyes lit up like a campfire, her heart-shaped mouth curving up, showing off her fangs. “Field trip?”

  I took in my breathless, weightless, fingerprint-less best friend. “Absolutely.”

  Nina’s face fell as quickly as it lit up. “Oh. Should we get Vlad?”

  “Isn’t he with Miranda?”

  “I guess they’re still together. She was dragging him out of here by the arm, but that was a couple of hours ago. He hasn’t called or anything.”

  I shrugged. “We’ll leave a note. This is an all-girl mission. Besides, he’s big and burly and hard to hide.”

  Nina cracked a grin. “And you’re so stealthy?”

  I narrowed my eyes and poked her cold, hard chest. “Don’t cross me.” I grabbed my jacket and keys.

  “Okay,” Nina said, following me out the front door. “But we’re running lines in between heists.”

  I like to think I was making Batmobile-type progress, slicing through town while the reflection of the yellow streetlights bounced through the spitting rain. But in actuality, Nina and I were pinched in my Honda and stuck at a traffic light while we waited for the half-naked, half-leathered Folsom Street Parade to march through.

  “I thought they banned public nudity,” Nina said, snarling.

  “That’s why they’re marching,” I said.

  We pulled into the police station, and Nina and I shared a look. My heart was pounding and bat wings were flapping fire in my stomach, but Nina was cool as a cucumber in a pair of half-glasses, marking a script with her red pencil.

  “Are you ready?”

  “Say, ‘No pulse, no breath, no problem!’” she asked, holding the eraser end of the pencil to her lips.

  “No pulse, no breath, no problem,” I deadpanned. “Now can we get in there? I really prefer to commit my felony offenses before midnight.”

  Nina blew out a sigh and crossed something off on her script. “It’s going to take a lot of work with this one,” she said to the car’s interior. “Take a note.” She put down her pencil and tucked her hair behind her ears, then went through a brief series of random vocal warm-ups.

  “Nina?” I screamed, when she went into a frenzied series of “Toy Boat” enunciations.

  “Watch and learn.”

  Nina went into the police station first to get things rolling while I waited in the shadows of the parking lot. I had to clamp a hand over my mouth to keep from laughing as she went from a dainty walk through the parking lot to a spastic run into the station, screaming, crying, tearing at her long hair. I had to give it to my roommate: she played a splendid madwoman.

  As every available officer raced to assist—and possibly subdue—Nina, I was able to sneak into the foyer.

  “Excuse me—”

  A pup officer whom I’m glad I didn’t recognize was about to stop me when I heard Nina’s feet stomping and her bellow, “Oh sweet Jesus, I got the devil inside me!” The pup’s eyes went wide and right over my head as Nina scratched and clawed, shouting things about Corinthians and her need for an “old priest and a young one.”

  I was in Alex’s dark office before she launched into an impressively deep baritone and the first few lines of “Ol’ Man River.” As she hit the chorus, I hit the jackpot—Alex had never fully embraced file cabinets or any particular system of organization other than “put stuff in box,” and the Mercy file box was open on his desk. I had it under my shirt like an incredibly boxy pregnancy belly and was out free in the police station parking lot before Nina stopped, blinked, pressed the back of her hand to her head and made some excuse that left the five officers surrounding her open-mouthed and stunned enough to let her walk right out of the station.

  I started the car and drove carefully out of the parking lot while every nerve in my body hummed.

  “That was great. That was great! We really should do stuff like that more often; it makes me feel so alive,” Nina said, kicking her feet up on the dashboard.

  “No way,” I said, flicking on my blinker. “We are only doing the sneaking-into-the-police-station thing when it is absolutely necessary. It might make you feel alive, but if Alex ever finds out, I’m the one he’s going to make dead.”

  “Well, what’
d you get?”

  I wasn’t able to answer because the seat-belt warning starting pinging furiously as Nina unbuckled hers and started to climb into the backseat, her butt mashed against my ear as she tried to climb. “What’d we get? Ew, papers?”

  “I told you, this is business. I had to get the police files for this case. I’m not going to dodder around on this stupid witch hunt when there’s a girl”—bile rose in my throat—“two girls in danger.”

  “Okay, but why are you turning here?”

  “I’ve got a theory.”

  Nina’s eyebrows went up. “Ooh, a theory. Lay it on me, Sherlock.”

  “Remember that girl I told you about, Fallon?”

  Nina pursed her lips. “The pretty, mean one?”

  “Yeah. I think—when Kayleigh disappeared, Sampson brought up the idea of a partner. Someone that Kayleigh—and maybe Alyssa and Cathy—knew.”

  “And you think this Fallon girl is in on the act?”

  I paused for a beat. “Maybe. Kayleigh was riding her bike when she went missing. When Will and I went over to Fallon’s house, she was riding her bike, just coming back from somewhere.”

  Nina looked at me, clearly expecting more.

  “It’s just a theory.”

  “Because two girls were riding bikes?”

  “Two girls who knew each other. One that went missing. One that, I know, was scared of the other. We found Fallon’s picture in with the other one’s at Bud’s place, but I’m not convinced she might be one of the victims. I think she might be a partner.”

  Nina pursed her lips and scratched at her chin, considering. “I don’t know if I’m buying that. Don’t get me wrong, I know how evil we ladies can be, but . . . what else you got?”

  I told Nina about Kayleigh coming in to my classroom, about the way her hands worked the strap of her bag as she struggled to get anything out of her mouth. I told her about Fallon interrupting.

  Nina sat back, her jaws working as though she were tasting her thought. Finally, she looked at me. “Fallon’s a teenager who still rides bike. Girls are afraid of other girls in high school. Hell, you’re still afraid of high school girls.”

  I shifted in my seat, my eyes tight on the road.

  Nina leaned forward, hanging on to the two front seats as she pushed herself closer. “These girls go missing, Soph, and they die.”

  I held up a single finger. “One of them. One of them died.” That little, niggling voice in the back of my head wanted to correct me, wanted to tell me that it wasn’t just Cathy—it was Gretchen Von Dow, too, and at least two other girls. And now maybe Alyssa and Kayleigh, as well.

  I pushed the gas pedal down a little harder.

  We had cleared the city and were closing in on Fallon’s exit when my phone bleeped out “God Save the Queen.” Nina picked up the phone and glanced at it.

  “Will. Want me to answer?”

  “No. Ignore it.”

  She punched the button and the cheery song died away. Nina frowned. “He’s called three times.”

  I gripped the wheel. “Let him call three more.”

  I was still in my kick-ass, take-charge stance when I turned the corner onto Fallon’s street. My kick-assedness turned into a roiling stomach and sour saliva when the blue and red police lights washed over our car.

  “Oh my God,” I murmured.

  My heart started to thud as the car slowed down and my blood became ice as I pulled aside and swept the scene. A handful of police cars were parked at jagged angles, an open ambulance in between them. A fire truck was blocking the driveway, the hose, like the discarded skin of a snake, flopped and ignored on the driveway. A wisp of smoke came from somewhere and the smell of something charred hung in the air.

  “Why aren’t you answering your phone?” Will bellowed the second my car door opened an inch. He was dressed for work—firefighting, not the Guardian stuff—and the entire scene stunned me.

  “I was—what’s going on here?”

  Every light in Fallon’s house was on, the warm light flooding into the front yard, mingling with the flashing lights of police cruisers and the steady headlights of the ambulance and fire truck.

  Nina came around the side of the car and put her hand on my arm, the chill just shocking enough to shake me. “Why are you here? What’s going on?”

  “Call came in about twenty minutes ago,” Will said, his voice low.

  “Lawson!” Alex’s voice cut through the general din of idling motors, barking orders, and my pounding heart. My body stiffened as he marched across the street and clamped a hand around my wrist. “I need you for this.”

  His eyes were stern and hard, in complete business mode. I stared at him blankly and started to move until I felt a hand on my other arm.

  “Soph and I are working on this together. I need her to see something.”

  Alex’s eyes went over my head and locked with Will’s. “This is official police business, Will.”

  “And this is Underworld criminal activity. Sophie and I have been dealing with Fallon for a week.”

  I knew I should have said something, but I was still in a weird stupor, leaning toward Alex, leaning toward Will. Finally, I felt a tight tug and heard Alex say, “Sorry about that, but police business trumps your stuff.”

  Nina’s eyes cut to the house and then back to me. She shook her head and took a step back. I handed her my keys. As far as I knew, Nina had never broken UDA protocol. But adding a vampire—even an adherent one—to a crime scene, where there could be enormous amounts of blood and a plethora of warm cop bodies, was begging for a rule to break.

  I stumbled aside and glanced over my shoulder long enough to see the anger flicker across Will’s face.

  “Hang on, mate,” Will said, following us quickly.

  “Soph.” Nina’s eyes were wide.

  “Both of you, stop!” I shook my arms free and turned on my heel, going directly to the ambulance, where a paramedic was wrapping a heavy blanket around Fallon’s shoulders. I didn’t know if the guys were following me and I didn’t care.

  “Fallon, what happened here?”

  Fallon looked up at me, her eyeliner smeared, black rivulets of mascara laced with tears sliding down her cheeks. Her hair was still in pigtails, but they were lopsided now and somehow, she looked like a regular kid: vulnerable, sad—scared. She blinked up at me, her lower lip trembling.

  “I—I’m not sure.”

  “Miss?” The paramedic put an arm up between Fallon and me, his other hand pumping a blood pressure monitor. “Please don’t upset her. She’s had quite a scare.”

  I was stunned to dead silence when Fallon looked from me to the paramedic and said, “That’s okay, she’s a friend.”

  The paramedic finished his reading and backed away with a shrug. I sat down on the tailgate next to Fallon. We were silent for a full moment, the lights of the police cars washing over us, first responders rushing around, eventually getting in their cars or making notes.

  “I went out to get something to eat. When I came back . . .” Fallon’s lip started to tremble again and her eyes filled with tears. I expected her to shake it off, to blink back the tears. The Fallon from school would have. This one just let the tears fall.

  I put a hand on hers, squeezed gently. “What happened, hon?”

  “Every light in the house was on. Blazing, like it is now.” She gestured absentmindedly toward the house. The doors were wide open. I went inside and—and—”

  “There was a pentagram on the dining room floor.” It was Alex now, in front of Fallon and me, arms crossed in front of his chest, legs akimbo.

  Fallon nodded and sniffed. “Someone had pushed aside all the furniture and drawn—drawn it in—in chalk or something. There were candles and—” Fallon closed her eyes and bit her bottom lip before whispering, “There was blood.”

  I looked up at Alex and he nodded solemnly.

  “I screamed and ran out. I guess I kicked over one of the candles because the curtains c
aught on fire.”

  “Where are your parents?”

  Fallon didn’t look at me. “Gone. My mom left for Portland tonight—that’s why I went out to get something to eat.”

  “And your dad?”

  “My dad is . . .” Her voice went thin again and I could almost see the wheels turning in her head, deciding what she should tell me. Exhaustion must have won over. “We don’t really know where he is. We haven’t for a while.”

  My heart ached for her.

  “Lawson?” I glanced up and Alex was right in front of me, eyes imploring. Will was twenty feet behind him suited up in his gear, soot streaked across his face, ax thrown over his shoulder. I felt my heart start to pound as Alex held out a hand. I saw Will shift behind him.

  I swallowed hard, my stomach starting to roil. Finally, I stood. “I’m going to go in and check out what you saw, okay?” I was speaking to Fallon. She hugged the blanket tighter over her shoulders and frowned.

  “What were you doing here, anyway?” She sniffed. “I mean, thanks, but you’re a substitute teacher. Why are you like, fighting crime?”

  I sucked in a breath. “You have no idea what it takes to get teaching credentials in California. I’ll be right back, okay?”

  Fallon nodded and rested her head on her knees.

  The inside of Fallon’s house was opulent—more so than I expected—with a swirling staircase wide enough for my car and slick walnut carved everything. Pictures were spaced equidistantly apart, each one showing the same family of three in stiff familial poses, their surroundings and smiles imitating the perfect, happy family, while their eyes stared out vacantly. The kitchen had the same pristine, model-home feel, with glossy industrial ovens that looked like they had never been used and a bunch of fresh bananas that were the exact hue of the trim.

  I wondered if Ms. Monroe would toss them once the color changed.

  “It’s in here,” Alex said, ten feet in front of me. The dining room was the only room so far with its lights off, but there was enough light coming from the bouncing flames in the fireplace to give me a view of the whole room. I immediately started unbuttoning my jacket as the roaring fire ratcheted up the room temperature by fifteen degrees. An entire half-wall of the room was scorched, long fingers of soot crawling up to the ceiling. The remains of elegant drapery were gnarled rags on one side, Dupioni silk in a calming blue on the other. The window they were protecting was blown out and shards of glass littered both sides of the wall.