Love At First Death

Damien's grip on the door tightened as he met Detective Harper's unwavering gaze. His calm demeanor didn't falter, but Elysia could feel the tension in the air like a taut string ready to snap.

"All accounted for," Damien said, his voice steady but cold. "You can check the logs yourself."

Harper's sharp eyes narrowed. "I might just do that. But first, I'd like to have a look around."

"Without a warrant?" Damien asked, his brow arching slightly.

"I could get one," Harper replied smoothly.

Elysia's heart pounded in her chest. If the detective walked into the office and saw her sitting there, things would get messy fast. She shot Damien a panicked look, but he didn't so much as glance her way.

"Feel free to come back when you have one," Damien said, leaning casually against the doorframe.

Harper didn't look pleased. "You don't seem very cooperative, Mr. Blackwood."

"And you seem very interested in wasting my time," he retorted.

The tension crackled in the air as the two stared each other down. Finally, Harper stepped back, flipping her notepad shut.

"I'll be back," she said, her tone laced with warning.

"I'll be here," Damien replied without missing a beat.

Harper turned on her heel and strode down the hallway, her heels clicking against the floor. Damien waited until she was out of sight before shutting the door and locking it.

Elysia exhaled the breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. "What was that?" she hissed.

"That," Damien said, turning to her, "was me keeping you from being arrested."

"Arrested? For what? I didn't do anything!"

"You're supposed to be dead," he pointed out, crossing his arms. "That usually raises some questions."

"Well, excuse me for ruining your paperwork," she snapped, standing up. "What do we do now? She's going to come back with a warrant, isn't she?"

"Probably," Damien admitted, running a hand through his hair.

"Great. Just great," Elysia muttered, pacing the room.

"Calm down," Damien said, his tone annoyingly even. "I'll handle it."

"Oh, you'll handle it? Like you just handled her?"

"Yes," he said simply.

Elysia stopped pacing and stared at him. "You're really not worried about this at all?"

"Worrying won't solve anything," he said, moving back to his desk. "Now sit down and let me think."

She threw her hands up in exasperation but sat down anyway, fuming silently.

After a few minutes, Damien looked up. "You're going to have to stay out of sight for a while."

"No kidding," she said dryly.

"I mean it," he said, his voice firm. "If Harper sees you, she'll start asking questions neither of us can answer. So until this blows over, you stay here. No exceptions."

"And what am I supposed to do while I'm hiding out in your creepy morgue? Play solitaire?"

"I'm sure you'll figure something out," he said, clearly uninterested in her sarcasm.

Elysia groaned, burying her face in her hands. This was turning into a nightmare, and she wasn't even sure how it had started.

"Why are you helping me, anyway?" she asked suddenly, looking up at him.

Damien paused, his expression unreadable. "Because leaving you to deal with this alone would be... unethical."

"Unethical?" she echoed, raising an eyebrow. "That's it? No grand moral compass or secret soft spot?"

"Don't push your expectations," he said, though there was a faint hint of a smirk on his lips.

Despite herself, Elysia felt a small spark of amusement. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.

Or maybe it would be a complete disaster.