Undead and Underwater by MaryJanice Davidson Page B

drawer, pulled out a jumbo box of staples, and gulped down not only all the staples, but the box they were in, and then the stapler they’d been intended for.
    Which, once he got over his shock, was the coolest—
    “Linus?”
    —thing—
    “Are you all right?”
    —ever.
    “I’ve got you.”

CHAPTER
    TEN
    “Thank God.” Hailey sighed when Linus opened his eyes.
    “That was awesome,” he said weakly. He moved his head enough to realize it was pillowed on her lap, that they were still in her office (thank goodness for doors that closed, and employees who, unlike Hailey, went to meetings in other parts of the building), then started to sit up. “And I didn’t faint.”
    “No, no.”
    “I blacked out.”
    “Of course.”
    “Because I was a little shocked.”
    “Yes.”
    “And also extremely turned on. That was awesome! I never knew a woman could look so damn hotwhile chomping down staples. So all the blood left my head and rushed . . . uh . . . somewhere else . . . and . . .” She was laughing so hard she almost dropped him. “Okay, but we agree I didn’t faint like a girlie girl, right?”
    “Oh, yes. Absolutely. Your rep as a stellar stud who never faints when confronted by a freak who—”
    “Don’t say that.” Surprised, she drew back a little. “Sorry. But don’t, Hailey. You’re not a freak. You’re terrific. You are the polar opposite of a freak, okay? Run yourself down like that again and I’ll kiss the shit out of you.”
    “That will certainly teach me, all right.”
    “And you suck at keeping your secret identity a secret.”
    “What secret identity? Do I have a costume? Do I rush around the country shoring up falling buildings or catching planes before they crash only to dash off and go back to my job as a mild-mannered HR director, always on the alert for evil and help desk seminars? No. If I’m in a situation where I can help, I do. I’m no different from an off-duty EMT. They’ll help if they can, even if they’re on their own time. That’s just how things are for them. And me, too, I guess.”
    “Then why not tell the world?”
    She snorted, which on any other woman would have been unlovely, but on her, was hot. “To what end? To draw tons of attention to myself? To hold press conferences, maybe write a blog? And I couldn’t just say it, could I? I’d have to prove it. Over and over, and eventually on live TV, and again, to what end?”
    “Doesn’t it bug you, knowing people are arguing that you either exist or you don’t? Sometimes right where you can hear them?”
    “Well, I’d rather they didn’t compare me to Bigfoot, but beyond that . . .” She shrugged. “It’s no more inane than most workplace chitchat.”
    “But why’d you tell me?”
    “Nobody ever asked me before.”
    “You’re kidding. Nobody? Come on. Nobody? Ever? Really ?”
    “Really.”
    “Hailey, come on. I’ve been here a week and I figured it out. Other people know, I promise.”
    She shrugged again. “If they do, they’ve never said. And what am I going to do, run around asking people if they think I’m It Girl? Linus, I promise you: the world is full of people who are mildly interested but, in the end, don’t give much of a shit either way. Their own lives and their own problems are much, much more interesting than ‘It Girl vs. Sasquatch: Live on pay-per-view!’ Trust me.”
    “Jeez.”
    “I know.”
    “This is one of those times you sound a lot older than me.”
    “Sorry.”
    “It sounds so bleak and horrible when you put it like that.”
    “No.” She shook her head. “It just sounds true.”
    “Does this—” He broke off and thought about it a little more while Hailey prowled the room, putting her office to rights. “Hailey, does this—these things you can do—do they have anything to do with your mom having trouble getting pregnant?”
    “My God.” She was staring at him and he realized (when had that happened? While he’d been passed out on