his case. He couldn’t go to the Doll or the Secretary with this one–he’d get a misconduct and a deduction before he could blink. His friend and fellow Damned was an excellent information digger, though, and well-versed in lore.
“Hm. Well, I see why you came running to me, Eli. Right troublesome.” He took a draw off his beer. “I’ve got nothing special to do right now, though–so you keep wooing the chick. I’ll do some digging.”
Eli let out his breath in relief. “What do you want for it?” he asked.
“Easy.” Francis grinned. “You finish this one off, you owe me and my hell hound an excuse to get to Southeast Asia.”
Eli paused, glancing at the Damned dog by Francis’s feet, who yawned, revealing the inferno within. No one at the bar noticed it. Then again, familiars of the Damned were hardly ever corporeal. He snorted. “Done. No trouble at all.”
“Ah…the Maldives…Thailand…Vietnam…lovely all around.”
Eli didn’t hear him, frowning over his mental image of Samantha watching him in severe paranoia, telling him she knew he was bad news.
* * * *
Samantha realized she did not want to call her father about the time she realized she was cleaning the bathroom for the second time, her laundry was all finished and the living room–including couch and chairs–was vacuumed. The dishes had been done the previous night and she actually regretted it. Finally, she picked up the phone.
“Daddy?”
“Samantha bear! How did that project you were talking about turn out? I was going to call you but got tied up in Milan.”
Samantha smiled. Her father the world traveler. He’d taken her with him, when she was young, but these days she could only ever free up time around her birthday. “It’s okay, Daddy. Hey, do you have a minute?”
“Anything for you, sweetie. What’s on your mind?”
Samantha frowned. Did she need to bring her father into this yet? The guy wasn’t asking for money, hadn’t even bothered her for three days. She grimaced. Better to ask now, right? “Do you know anyone named Diego?”
“Diego?” Her father barked a laugh. “Sounds like a loan shark or a used car salesman. No. Why?”
“Some guy emailed me saying you knew him.” She tried to sound relieved, but in reality it only worried her more. “Sure glad I ignored it.”
“He asking for money?”
“No, Daddy. Just wanted to meet.”
Her father’s voice grew severe. “Should I make a call to the police chief? Can’t say he owes me a get-out-of-jail-free card, but I could wheedle him into checking in on you.”
“No, Daddy, no problem. It was just one email. Maybe it was the wrong address.” She fiddled with her ring, drawing the pad of her thumb along the studded edge. “Anyway, you having fun in…are you still in Milan?”
“Nope! Greece, now, It’s an amazing place, sweetheart. Maybe I’ll take you boating here for your birthday.” He laughed.
“Daddy…” Samantha chuckled. She hated boats. Seasickness never failed to strike.
They talked for another hour. By the end, with the help of her father’s cheerful tone, Samantha had convinced herself there was no need to mention her mother had come up. It wasn’t that important, and besides, he’d sounded cheerful. She didn’t want to mess it up by mentioning her mother. He always said she was the love of his life.
“Time for a walk,” she decided, and let herself out into the afternoon sunlight. It was a warm day, and she rambled under the fragrant trees to the park. Three days, and Eli hadn’t showed up again. What the hell did the guy want anyway? Had he just been a profiteer who decided she was too much trouble, too smart?
No, he didn’t feel that way. She couldn’t shake the feeling he was something more, something bigger. Damn, he had a pretty face too. She could use his body for a few dirty sessions with herself. It was a pity he was probably long gone.
She bought an ice cream and sat on a bench to eat it, next to a blond bombshell in a short skirt. Whew. I could be jealous of those legs, she thought as she idly took a lick, noting the perfectly coiffed 20s hairstyle with admiration. The woman looked like a magazine cover.
As Samantha tried to study the woman on the other side of her seat without blatantly staring, a crow lazily flapped in to settle on the back of the bench between them. Samantha nearly choked in the surprise. “Damn,” she said, watching the crow. She broke off a piece of her ice cream cone, holding it up to the bird. “Didn’t know the crows around here were so tame.”
The bird eyed her. The woman slowly turned her head to stare at Samantha with dark, swirling eyes.
Suddenly, it occurred to her that something was very wrong. The park had gone quiet, like a wall had been thrown up between the bench and the rest of the world. There was a smell on the air like rotting meat. “S-Sorry…” she stammered. “Is it actually your pet?”
The silence became oppressive. The woman’s eyes sparked red and Samantha’s breath caught. It was a trick of the light. It had to be. The woman smiled slowly. As she did, her skin seemed to pale, until it was sheet white. “You could say that.” The woman raised a hand, batting aside Samantha’s still outstretched arm with inch long claws which looked to be dipped in blood.
A ringing panic rose in Samantha’s ears as the crow ruffled its feathers, bending in at the same time as the woman. “I’ve got to go…”
“Do you?” The woman asked. “Oh, no. Tell me how you saw my pet, first.”
Samantha shook her head. The crow was sitting at the most two feet from her face. If it spread its wings, her nose would get tickled. She’d have to be completely blind not to see it. “I’m sorry…I don’t know. Really.” The woman’s gaze was hypnotic. Why was she pleading? Why wasn’t she up and running? Samantha leaned in close enough for the woman to caress her chin with scarlet nails. Samantha trembled, clenching her hands.
“Is that so?” the blonde purred, “How interesting. Do you know what I am?”
“N-No…”
The woman’s lip quirked. “So you see, but you do not understand.” Her tongue poked out of between her lips, licked them quickly and disappeared. Samantha’s heart pounded, heat on her face and roaring in her ears, like a distant crowd. The woman leaned in, bringing the full power of her gaze to bear on her, and Samantha could barely breathe, her entire body frozen, joint for joint. “What’s your name?”
Samantha didn’t even pause to consider the repercussions. She had to speak. She was compelled. “Samantha Parker.”
“Samantha Parker…” the woman repeated in a purr. Samantha shuddered as the claws pricked at her neck, raising a drop of blood. The woman brought the drop to her lips. She placed the claw in her mouth, keeping Samantha’s gaze. “Daughter of Marie and Donald Parker. Twenty-five years old. Not a virgin, but also not overly experienced with men.” She smirked. “Mainly heterosexual but with bisexual tendencies. Were you eyeing me
