I tugged awkwardly at the red dress I was wearing, hoping that too much of my legs weren't showing. I never dressed this fancy, and I felt very, very awkward. The type of awkward a girl felt when she showed up with braces on the first day of her freshman year of high school. Not that I was speaking from experience or anything.

"Jesus, Holly, will you quit fidgeting like that?" Mac exclaimed, slapping at the hand that was fiddling with the top of my dress. "It's very unbecoming."

"Sorry, sorry," I muttered. "I'm just not - "

"You look gorgeous, darling," Jamie reassured me, tossing an arm around my shoulders and giving me a tight squeeze. "No need to worry."

It was easy for Jamie to say that. He looked as devilishly handsome as ever, with his dark slacks and white dress shirt, his messily styled hair. Almost every pair of eyes on the street were straying towards him as we made our way to DiGiovanni's, the restaurant Mac had chosen to have her birthday dinner at.

DiGovianni's was a very classy place from what I'd been told. Mac had only been too happy to inform me that my usual wear of jeans and a t-shirt would most certainly not be acceptable at a place like DiGiovanni's.

In the end, I had spent almost two hours scouring my closet for something to wear and when I'd come up with absolutely nothing, Mac had forced me to wear the dress she had worn to her senior prom. The red dress was a tight sheath of silky fabric and showed way too much cleavage for my liking. I'd only consented to wearing it because it was Mac's birthday.

And chances were, I wouldn't be running into anybody I knew tonight, and that was definitely a relief.

DiGiovanni's was bustling with activity when the three of us strolled into the marble tiled entrance, music seeping out of hidden speakers and the fountain off to the side splashing softly.

"Reservations for Sandoval," Jamie said to the maitre'd at the front counter.

The stuffy looking man examined a book of names in front of him before he nodded, checked off our name and gestured for one of his wait-staff to come forward.

"If you'll just follow me," the woman said with an obviously fake smile, grabbing a couple of menus.

"Tell me again how you're managing to pay for this dinner," Mac asked Jamie as we followed after the the waitress. "This place is ridiculously expensive."

"Don't you worry your pretty little head about it," Jamie said to her with a wink. "I've got it covered."

Mac and I exchanged identical smirks. Sometimes Jamie spoiled us too much for our own good.

We were seated at a small table with crystal glasses and expensive plates. I cringed the second I flipped open the menu and examined the list of entrees.

"Shit!" I whisper-yelled at Mac, leaning across the table to her. "One of these salads costs as much as my paycheck!"

Mac suddenly looked as sick as I felt.

"I told you not to worry about it, Holly," Jamie said in a singsong voice as he examined his menu.

Yeah, like I would not be able to worry about it. But an expensive meal every now and then couldn't hurt, could it? Especially if I wasn't paying for it.

Another waiter showed up a few minutes later, took our orders, and the three of us fell into comfortable chatter about what we usually talked about - everything.

I had only just met Mac and Jamie last year. Mac had been advertising an empty room for rent in the housing office at NYU, and the rent had been reasonable, so I'd taken her up on her offer. It was just a bonus that we had quickly become best friends.

We had both met Jamie at a party Mac had dragged me to last September. By the end of evening, Jamie had officially changed our duo to a trio.

So after all of the time we had spent together, all that we had shared with each other, it was difficult for me not to tell the both of them what had happened the other week. The subject was hanging on the edge of my mind, a constant, nagging reminder that something unnatural had happened. And it was natural to want to talk about something as big as what had happened, wasn't it?

That was just the thing, however. As much as I loved Mac and Jamie, there was no way they wouldn't think I was insane if I told them about what had gone down in that building with Roman, Sinclair, Gina, and Crowley, the Cloak and Dagger Division of the NYPD.

I wanted to forget that night more than anything, but try as I might...I couldn't. I couldn't force myself to forget what they had said about mythological creatures were actually real, that I had been attacked by a vampire two weeks ago.

It had gotten to the point where I was having nightmares every night, nightmares of that alleyway, of those cold, clammy hands that had touched me, and the faceless beast that had attacked Roman Ayers.

"Holly? Holly!"

I jerked in my seat and stared sheepishly over at Jamie and Mac. They were staring at me with concerned expressions.

"You okay, sweetie?" Jamie said, raising his eyebrows.

"Yeah, you were staring at your plate with some horrified look on your face," Mac said, her tone laced with worry. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," I said quickly, almsot knocking over my water glass as I sat up straight quickly. "Just...thinking."

Jamie and Mac exchanged worried looks, and I fought back the urge to sigh. I understood that they were worried about me, but there was nothing they could do to help. The only thing that could help, I think, would be to never see any of those CD people again.

"Honey, you've got to put that night behind you," Jamie said in an undertone, leaning across the table towards me. "You'll never get on with your life if you don't."

"He's right, Holly," Mac quickly agreed. "It's not good. You need to - "

"Please, you guys. Can we just drop this?" I said quietly, ducking my head. "I don't want to talk about this. It's Mac's birthday. There are plenty of other things to talk about it."

Thankfully, Mac and Jamie did let it drop. The for now part was left unsaid, though.

About twenty minutes later, our food arrived. Mac had ordered shrimp scampi, Jamie a large caesar salad, and I ended up with grilled chicken with alfredo sauce. My mother may have kept to a strict vegetarian diet, but I had discovered the wonders of meat when I moved out last year. I kept it a secret.

"So then we go to the movies after dinner," Jamie was saying, regailing us with the story of his latest date, "and the douche even has the nerve to try and cop a feel halfway through the damn previews!"

Mac grimaced. "Please tell me you kneed him in the balls."

"No! I just got up and left," Jamie said exasperatedly. "I swear to God, is it that hard to find a nice, cute guy to go on a date with? This is the worst dating streak I've ever had. I just want a..."

His voice trailed off into nothing, his attention fixed at something over my shoulder. A stunned look came over his face and I could've sworn he flushed.

"What?" I said confusedly. "What're you looking at?"

"The piece of man candy walking this way," he said with a low whistle. "Dayum."

Both Mac and I looked around so fast I think we both got cricks in our necks.

"Who are you talking about?" Mac said, a whine in her voice. "This place is crowded!"

"Uh, he's kinda hard to miss," Jamie said. "Look a little harder."

When I finally saw who was walking our way, Jamie's fixation, I think my stomach dropped and hit my knees.

Oh, no.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I demanded, rising to my feet as Roman Ayers came strolling up to me. "I thought I - "

"Hi, babe. You miss me?"

Sinclair gave me an impish grin as he stopped next to Roman, wiggling his eyebrows at me.

"Shut up, Sinclair," Roman muttered harshly before turning to me with a very serious look. "We need you to come with us, Holly."

"No! No." I crossed my arms over my chest and glowered at the two of them, anger boiling underneath the surface. "I am not going anywhere with the two of you."

"Aw, but I - "

"I know you don't want to," Roman said, lowering his voice. "But we need you to. We - "

"Uh, Holly?" I felt a tug on my arm and I turned to see Mac standing behind me, a confused look on her face. "You wanna tell us what's going on here?"

"Detective Connor Sinclair," Sinclair introduced himself, thrusting out a hand for Mac to shake. "This is my partner, Detective Roman Ayers."

"Er..." Mac bit her lip as she shook Sinclair's hand, shooting me an apprehensive look. "Nice to meet you?"

"Is Holly in trouble with the police?" Jamie asked casually.

He was the only one who hadn't jumped to their feet at the sight of Roman and Sinclair, perfectly calm as ever - even if he was obviously checking out Roman.

"Not at all," Roman answered with a tight smile. "We just need Holly to come down to the station for a bit. We believe we may have found the person responsible for her assault and we need her to view a line up."

I clutched at the table behind me to keep from falling over as all air was sucked from my lungs.

They had found the man responsible for attacking me and killing that girl? The person they just so claimed was a vampire?

"You found him?" I asked breathlessly. "But I thought you said - "

"That's why we need you to come with us," Roman said, cutting me off. "Now."

I looked back to Mac and Jamie pleadingly, desperate for help.

I didn't want to look at any person that they thought might have been that girl's killer. If I had trouble with nightmares now, I didn't even want to imagine what they would be like if I viewed that police line up.

But what about that girl? a small voice in my mind whispered. Doesn't her family deserve justice for what happened to her?

My conscience was right. The girl's family needed closure. Whoever had so brutually attacked her needed to be put behind bars. Even if the people in the CD claimed that he was a damn vampire.

"Your call, sweetie," Jamie said, reaching out to squeeze my hand reassuringly.

"But, Mac..." I turned to her apologetically. "It's your birthday."

"And I'll have another birthday," she said with a smile. "Don't worry about it. We'll go clubbing next year."

"Oh, can I come?"

We all stared at Sinclair. He shrugged, his hands shoved in his pockets, grinning. "What? I like partying."

Mac smacked Jamie on the arm and gave him a look when he opened his mouth to say something, and he quickly shut up.

"Are you going to come with us or not?" Roman asked shortly after a moment.

He clearly was not in a very good mood.

When I stayed silent for a minute or so, seriously debating whether or not going to this police line up was a good idea, Sinclair sighed heavily and then said, "Don't make me beg, Holly. Please come with us."

"Come on, Holly," Mac murmured, giving me a nudge. "Go."

I squeezed my eyes shut and sucked in a deep breath before I finally muttered, "Fine. I'll go with you."

"Good."

I grabbed my coat off the back of my chair and slid into it, grabbed my purse and pulled it up over my shoulder.

"Let's go," Roman said, gesturing for me to follow after him. "We don't have that much time."

I hugged both Jamie and Mac, apologizing yet again for having to leave them, and then followed after Roman and Sinclair, leaving the restaurant.

"So, you look nice," Sinclair said conversationally as we stepped outside into the brisk evening. "What's the occasion?"

"Friend's birthday," I said. But this beating around the bush wasn't doing much for me. It was obvious by Sinclair and Roman's stiff posture that they were avoiding talking about why I was coming with them. "Why are we doing this right now? Can't this wait?"

"No," Roman answered briskly. "We can only hold a suspect for twenty-four hours without probable cause."

"Okay, but, listen," I said, quickening my pace to catch up with him as he strode down the street. "It was pitch black in that alleyway. I couldn't see anything. I don't think I can - "

"We know that," Sinclair assured me. "But believe me, a vampire's aura is impossible to forget. If he's in the room, you'll know."

"Oh."

I immediately knew right at that moment that I was not going to be able to do this. But I forced myself to keep walking anyways.

Roman wrenched open the passenger side door of the same car he had driven the other week and let me take the front seat, forcing Sinclair to sit in the back.

There was an uncomfortable silence in the car as Roman drove through the streets, much more calmly than last week, thankfully.

I was trying very hard not to burst into tears. I would've pulled my legs up underneath me and buried my face in my knees had I not been wearing a skin-tight dress.

Why were they asking me to do this?

They knew as well as I did that there was no way I would be able to identify someone that had been in a pitch-black alleyway with me. There had only been about five seconds from the time that thing put their hands on me to the time I'd blacked out. There was absolutely no way I would be able to pick out who my assailant was.

"Holly?"

I shrieked when a hand came down on my shoulder. I spun around in my seat to see Sinclair looking at me with a concerned expression, unusual on his normally laughing face.

"Sorry," I gasped. "You scared me."

"I can see that," Sinclair said slowly. "You were hyperventilating."

I was?

"Oh."

"Look..." He squeezed my shoulder in what I think was supposed to be a comforting gesture. "I know you're scared."

I bit my tongue to keep myself from saying something incredibly sarcastic.

"But it's not going to be as bad as you think."

I stared incredulously at Sinclair. He didn't honestly just say that, did he?

"Right," I said flatly. "Okay. Not that bad."

"He's right."

Sinclair and I both looked over at Roman in surprise.

"You're kidding, right?"

Roman glanced over at me with his mouth in a thin line. "He's not going to be able to get to you."

"What? Who's not going to be able to get to me?" I said. "Oh, that's right. The vampire who attacked me."

"Believe me, Holly, when you actually take the time to look at a vampire, you'll know there's no way they're human," Sinclair said confidently. "Right, Roman?"

Roman let out a harsh sigh and shot Sinclair a withering look in the rearview mirror.

"He's right. Again."

I sat back in my seat and crossed my arms tightly over my chest, resisting the urge to shove my fingers in my ears to block out what they were saying. I couldn't believe I was so stupid as to actually get into a car with these people again.

What was I thinking?

There was no doubt about it. If I hadn't died last Friday, I was going to die today.

"Wait, what are we doing here?" I asked, sitting up straight in my seat when I noticed that Roman had just parked the car on the street outside a building that had definitely not been the place that held the CD.

"We probably should have told you that this is where our actual police work goes down," Sinclair said briskly as he opened the car door and stepped out. "The other place is just our...headquarters."

Right. That totally made sense, too.

I clutched my bag tightly to my chest as I stumbled my way out onto the sidewalk. Both Roman and Sinclair moved to flank my sides as we walked up to the building, almost as if they were acting as my bodyguards.

Loud chattering and a hundred different other sounds assaulted my ears as I stepped into the building. It was a maze of officers and a variety of people that looked as if they had just walked off some foreign film set.

Despite how loud it was, I could still hear the high heels Mac had forced me to wear clacking across the tiled floor as Sinclair and Roman lead me over to a desk hidden behind what looked suspiciously like a cage.

Sinclair chattered with the officer behind the desk as he and Roman signed some sort of log book, and then Roman gestured to a set of elevators across the lobby.

"Ready?" he said, glancing down at me.

"No."

"You'll be fine," Sinclair told me, wrapping an arm around my waist as we headed to the elevators. "I promise. Roman and I will be here the entire time."

I was embarrassed when I felt my face heating up at Sinclair's words, but I had to admit that it was reassuring. It sort of felt like I was being escorted by my own two personal bodyguards. Roman and Sinclair were, well, buff...and it didn't hurt that they had guns belted at their hips, either.

We were jammed into the elevator with three other officers and a shifty looking man dressed in ripped clothes that probably hadn't showered in a good week or two.

Sinclair ushered me off the elevator when it stopped on the seventh floor and kept close by my side as he lead me down a bustling hallway full of officers and people in casual clothing, Roman on my other side.

We walked through a large room full of desks and computers and even more people, then down a dimly lit hallway. Roman stopped outside a scarred door and leaned against the wall, crossing his arms.

"Are you sure you're up for this, Holly?" he asked me quietly.

"Why do you keep asking me that? I wouldn't be here if I didn't! Honestly, do you two think so little of me that I can't look through some window at random men? Jesus!"

I let out a huff of air and bit my lip after my embarrassing outburst. What had gotten into me tonight? I was starting to believe that I really was mentally unstable.

"Sorry," I mumbled, staring down at the floor.

Roman said nothing, but Sinclair shot me a wink before opening the door and standing aside with a flourish to let me pass through.

The room was dimly lit and a little dank, exactly like the interrogation rooms I'd seen in every crime show I'd ever watched. In front of us was a huge window looking into an even dingier room that would in a few moments hold the line up I was supposed to be looking at.

We were not the only ones in the room, however.

"Holly! It's good to see you again."

Gina leaned away from the wall and approached me with an outstretched hand and a friendly smile. For some reason, I was oddly relieved to see her. At least I wasn't the only female that had gotten dragged into this.

"And you, Gina, " I said, doing my best to return her smile as I shook her hand.

"So this is Miss Holly Eberly?"

The other person in the room was a man with slick graying hair, a fancy designer suit and rather eerie looking silver eyes. He had a kind enough face, but his smile was marred by the thick scar that slashed through his lips, all the way down to curve at the end of his chin.

I had to remind myself that staring was impolite, but I was having a difficult time with it. Had this man been attacked just like Roman had?

"Hi," I said weakly, waving my hand pathetically.

I didn't want to know if this man's skin felt as frigidly cold as it looked.

"I'm ADA Ezekiel Gold, resident ghost."

"Uh..."

Roman let out a harsh sigh and leaned his head back against the wall. "Little more tact next time, Zeke."

Zeke frowned, looking at all of us in confusion. "I'm sorry?"

"Holly is a little new to the whole...supernatural thing," Gina said, shooting me an apprehensive look.

I stared back at all of them, not sure what to