by Ким Харрисон
"Oh. Herb toast, then." With a forced cheerfulness, she went to wash her hands.
I wasn't really allergic, just sensitive to it thanks to that same genetic aberration that would have killed me had Trent's father not intervened. Ivy slid off the counter, and after snapping the box of pasta shut, started gathering salad stuff. She was right next to Skimmer, and when their heads almost touched, I thought I heard soft encouragement.
Standing at the stove with my pasta, I found I was beginning to feel bad for the woman. She was really trying, recognizing that I was important to Ivy and making an effort to be gracious. Skimmer knew that Ivy had once set her sights on me, dropping her play for my blood after she'd finally gotten it, the encounter's ending bad enough to scare her into never doing it again. And it was no secret that I didn't give a flying flip that the two of them were sharing blood and a pillow both. I think that that had a lot to do with Skimmer's attitude. I was one of Ivy's few friends, and Skimmer knew that the quickest way to tick Ivy off was to be mean to me.
Vampires, I thought, shaking the pasta into the white sauce. I'd never understand them.
"How about some wine?" Skimmer asked, standing at the open fridge with a stick of butter in her hand. "Red goes with pasta. I brought some over today."
I couldn't drink red wine without risking migraines, and Ivy didn't drink much—not at all before a run. I opened my mouth to simply say none for me, but Ivy blurted, "Rachel can't tolerate red wine. She's sensitive to sulfur."
"Oh, God." Skimmer's pretty face was creased when she came out from behind the door. "I'm sorry. I didn't know. Is there anything else you can't tolerate?"
Just you. "You know what?" I said, dropping the lid on the finished pasta and turning the flame off. "I'm going to get some ice cream. Anyone else want ice cream?"
Not waiting for an answer, I snatched up my shoulder bag and one of Ivy's canvas sacks and walked out of the kitchen. "I'll be back before the bread's done!" I called over my shoulder.
The echo of my sandals was different in the sanctuary, and I slowed to see the cozy area Ivy and Skimmer had arranged in a front corner as temporary living room. The TV would be lame, since we didn't have cable out here, but all I needed was the stereo. Skimmer must've brought the floor plants, since I hadn't seen them before. Damn vampire was just moving in.
And I'm having a problem with that? Irritated at myself now, I shoved one of the thick doors open, slipping out onto the wide stoop and shutting it hard. The light over the sign was onto make the damp pavement shine. Rain-soft air caressed my bare shoulder, but it didn't soothe me.
Was I bothered because I'd begun to think of the church as mine, or was it because Skimmer was taking some of Ivy's attention?
Do I really want to answer that?
My mood worsened when I passed my car in the carport. Couldn't drive my stupid car to the stupid corner store because of the stupid I.S.
I scanned the street for my pack-hopeful, not finding Brett. Maybe the rain had chased him off. The man did have to work sometime.
The thump of the church's front door shutting cut through the damp air, and I turned with an apologetic look on my face. But it wasn't Ivy.
"I'm coming with you," Skimmer said, shrugging her lightweight cream-colored jacket and taking the steps two at a time.
Swell. I turned and started walking.
Silent, Skimmer held her purse tight to herself as she matched me step for step, a shade too close since the sidewalk wasn't that wide. Our feet splashed through a puddle, and I glanced at her white boots. Though inappropriate for a runner to work in, they looked great on her, showing off her little feet. What in hell does she want?
Skimmer took a slow breath. "Ivy and I met the day she moved into my dorm room."
Whoa. This is not what I had expected. "Skimmer…"
The cadence of her boots never slowed. "Let me finish," she said, her cheeks spotted red in the occasional streetlight. "My old roommate was expelled, and Ivy moved in. Piscary had screwed her mind royally, and her parents managed to get her out from under him for a few years so she could find an identity that didn't hinge on him. I think it saved her life. It damn well made her stronger. She needed someone, and I was there."
My pulse quickened, and my pace slowed. Maybe I should hear this.
Skimmer's posture eased at my response, her slight shoulders losing much of their tension. "We hit it off," she said, the black in her eyes swelling. "She was away from her master and parents with a year of master-vampire techniques at her fangtips. I was looking for trouble. My God, it was fantastic, but she scared me into settling down, and I gave her something to believe in." Skimmer fixed her eyes on me. "She was straight until she met me. Apart from a few latent tendencies. It took me two semesters to convince her that she could love me and Kisten both without betraying him."
My light steps seemed to jar me to my bones. And that was a good thing? Our pace had slowed, becoming less angry. Skimmer was at the top of her class, and I knew that anything she said would be slanted to scare me. Whatever. She couldn't scare me any more than Ivy had.
"It was a private school," Skimmer said. "Everyone lived on campus. It was expected that, as roommates, Ivy and I would share blood as a matter of convenience, but it wasn't insisted on. That we became lovers only meant… that's the way we were. I needed her to balance me out, and she needed me to feel good about herself after Piscary screwed her over."
The anger in her voice was shockingly hard. "You don't like him," I said.
Skimmer jerked the strap of her purse back up her shoulder as we walked. "I hate him. But I'll do whatever he asks if it means I can stay with Ivy." Her eyes met mine, the light from a nearby streetlamp glowing on her. "I'm going to get him out so I can stay with Ivy. If he kills you afterward, it's not my problem."
The threat was obvious, but we kept moving, her steps meeting mine solidly. That's why she was being nice to me. Why risk getting on Ivy's bad side if Piscary would take care of it?
I was shaking inside, but Skimmer wasn't done yet. Her pretty features knotted in an inner turmoil as she added bitterly, "She loves you. I know she's using me to try and make you jealous. I don't care." Flushed, her eyes dilated. "She wants to share everything with you, and you're kicking it in the dirt. Why do you live with her if you don't want her to touch you?"
Suddenly it was making a lot more sense. "Skimmer, you've got it wrong," I said softly, the night silent but for the wet hush of traffic a street over. "I want to find a blood balance with Ivy. She's the one balking, not me."
Her white boots scuffed to a halt, and I stopped. Skimmer stared at me. "She always mixes sex with her blood," she said. "Uses it to keep control. You won't do that. Ivy said so."
"I won't have sex with her, yeah. But that doesn't mean we can't…" I hesitated. Why am I telling her this?
Shock was clear on Skimmer's pale face, and her outline came into sharp relief as a car passed us, its lights throwing her into a stark reality that left the night darker when it passed. "You love her," Skimmer stammered.
My face flamed. Okay, I loved Ivy, but that didn't mean I wanted to sleep with her.
Skimmer hunched, becoming almost ugly. "Stay away from her," she hissed.
"Ivy's making the decisions here, not me," I said quickly.
"She's mine!" Skimmer shouted, lashing out.
I moved instinctively, without fear, blocking and stepping forward to land a side kick in her middle. She was a dancer, not a martial artist, and the kick landed. It wasn't much, but the vampire sat down hard on the wet sidewalk, eyes watering as she caught her breath.
"Oh, God," I apologized, reaching to help her up. "I'm so sorry."
Skimmer gripped it, yanking me off balance. Yelping, I fell, rolling across the wet grass and getting soaked. The living vampire beat me to my feet, but she was crying, tears silently slipping down her face. "Stay away from her!" she shouted. "She's mine!"
Nearby, a dog barked. Frightened, I tugged my shirt str
aight. "She isn't anyone's," I said, not caring if the neighbors were listening. "I don't care if you two are sleeping together, or sharing blood, or whatever, but I'm not leaving!"
"You selfish bitch!" she seethed, and I backed up as she came forward. "Staying without letting her touch you is cruel. Why do you live with her if you don't want her to touch you?"
Curtains were being pulled aside in the neighboring houses, and I started to worry that someone might call the I.S. "Because I'm her friend," I said, beginning to get mad. "She's just scared, okay? And a friend doesn't walk away when another friend is scared. I'm willing to wait until she isn't. God knows she waited for me. She needs me, and I need her—so back off!"
Skimmer stopped her advance, pulling herself up to look possessed, calm, and pissed. "You let her taste your blood. What could you do that would scare her?"
I was wet from hitting the grass, and I looked up from my damp legs. "I trusted her so much that I would've let her kill me if Jenks hadn't stopped her."
Skimmer went even whiter.
"Skimmer, I'm sorry," I said, gesturing helplessly. "I didn't plan this."
"But you're sleeping with Kisten," she protested. "I can smell him all over you."
This was as embarrassing as all hell. "You're the one who taught her she could love two people at the same time, not me."
With an abrupt motion, Skimmer turned on a heel and started back the way we came, blond hair swinging and steps sharp.
Actually, that I was sleeping with Kisten while wanting Ivy to bite me was a twinge on my conscience. But I figured between Ivy's fear and the vampiric mentality that multiple blood and bed partners were the norm, I could deal with the issue when it became an issue. I loved Kisten. I wanted Ivy to bite me. It made sense, if I didn't think about it too hard.
Depressed, I scooped up my shoulder bag and Ivy's canvas sack. "If you jump me again, I'll freaking break your damn arm," I muttered as I trailed behind her, knowing she could hear me. I didn't know where we stood, but ice cream now sounded as appealing as eating a hot dog in the snow. Perhaps the encounter had been inevitable. It could have been worse. Ivy could have heard us.
"You okay?" I asked when I caught up to Skimmer on the church steps, the lights in the sanctuary making yellow swaths on the wet concrete.
Giving me a sideways glance, she felt her middle, her expression a mix of sullen mistrust and anger. "I love Ivy, and I'll do anything to protect her. You understand me?"
My eyes narrowed at the implication that I was a threat to Ivy. "I'm not endangering her."
"Yes you are." The woman's narrow chin lifted as she stood a step above me. "If she kills you by mistake because you goad her into something, she will never forgive herself. I know her. She'll end it all to escape the pain. I love Ivy, and I'm not going to let her kill herself."
"Neither am I," I said hotly.
Skimmer's face emptied of emotion, chilling me. A quiet vampire was a plotting vampire. Yanking the door open, she slipped in ahead of me. Great. I think I had just put myself on Skimmer's hit list.
While I leaned against the wall and wedged off my sandals, Skimmer muttered something about the bathroom. Wiping her boots, she clattered into Ivy's bathroom making an obvious amount of noise, and slammed the door. I followed the scent of warm bread into the kitchen, my steps silent from being barefoot. I found Ivy at her computer buying music. "What flavor did you get?" she asked.
"Ah, it started to rain," I ad-libbed, "and we decided it wasn't worth the effort." It wasn't really a lie, just looking at it from an expanded point of view.
Ivy nodded, eyes on the screen. I had expected some sort of reaction, but then I noticed that her boots were wet, and I slumped. Crap, she'd seen the entire thing.
I took a breath to explain, but her brown eyes flicked to mine, halting me. Skimmer came in, her cell phone in hand. "Hey, the office called," she said, the lie coming from her as easily as breathing. "They want me back early, so I'm going to cut out on you. You two go ahead and have lunch. I'll take a rain check."
Ivy sat straighter. "You're headed into Cincy?" Skimmer nodded, and Ivy rose, stretching. "Mind if I get a ride from you?" she asked. "That's where my run is." Ivy glanced at me. "You don't mind, do you, Rachel?"
Like I could really say anything? "Go on," I told her, moving to the stove and stirring the cooling pasta. My eyes drifted to the opened bottle of white wine. "I'll give Ceri a call. Maybe she'll come over early."
Ten to one they were both going to see Piscary. Why didn't they just come out with it?
"See you later, Rachel," Skimmer said tightly, then headed to the front, her boots loud.
Ivy pulled her purse across the table. My gaze dropped to her boots, and when I brought them back up, I saw a wisp of guilt. "I won't do it," she said. "If I bite you, it'll blow everything we have into the ever-after."
I shrugged, thinking she was right, but only if we were stupid about it. If she had been listening, then she also knew I was willing to wait. Besides, to think that I could satisfy all of her blood lust was insane. I didn't even want to try. I only wanted to prove that I accepted her the way she was. I'd just have to wait until she was ready to believe that.
"You'd better get going," I said, not wanting her to be here when Minias showed up.
Ivy hesitated in the threshold. "Lunch was a good idea."
I shrugged without looking up, and after a moment's hesitation she walked out. My eyes followed her wet prints, and I frowned when I heard Ivy say defensively, "I told you she did. You're lucky she didn't hit you with anything other than her foot."
Tired, I slipped into my chair, the scent of cooked pasta, vinegar dressing, and grilled bread heavy in the air. I knew that Ivy wasn't going to move out of the church. Which meant the only way Skimmer was going to get Ivy all to herself was if I was dead.
How nice was that?
Six
I thunked the sauce off the spoon when I heard the front door open and Ceri's voice, soft in conversation. Jenks had gone to get her, having come in when Ivy and Skimmer left. He didn't like the thin blond vampire and had made himself scarce. It was after sunset and time to call Minias. I didn't like the idea of kicking sleeping demons, but I needed to reduce the confusion in my life, and calling him was the easiest way to do that.
Damn it, what am I doing, calling a demon? And what kind of a life do I have when calling one is at the top of my to-do list?
Ceri's steps were soft in the hallway, and I turned to her smile when her pleasant laughter at something Jenks said filled the kitchen. She was wearing a summery linen dress in three shades of purple, a matching ribbon holding her long, almost-transparent hair up off her neck against the moist heat. Jenks was on her shoulder to look like he belonged there, and Rex, Jenks's cat, was in her arms. The orange kitten was purring, her eyes closed and her paws wet with rain.
"Hello, Rachel," the young-seeming woman said, her voice carrying the slow relaxation of a damp summer night. "Jenks said you needed some company. Mmmm, is that herb bread?"
"Ivy and Skimmer were going to have lunch with me," I said, turning to get two wineglasses. "Ah…" I hedged, suddenly embarrassed and wondering if she had heard Skimmer and me… discussing things. "It fell through, and now I've got a ton of food with only me to eat it."
Ceri's green eyes pinched in worry, telling me she had. "Nothing serious?"
I shook my head, thinking it could turn real serious real fast if Skimmer worked at it.
At that, the lithe elf smiled, sashaying to the cupboard for two plates as if it were her kitchen. "I'd love to eat lunch with you. Keasley would be happy with fish sandwiches every night, but honestly, the man wouldn't know fine food if I put it on his tongue and chewed it for him."
The chatter about nothing lured me into a better mood, and, relaxing, I fixed two plates of pasta in white sauce while Ceri made herself tea with the special leaf she kept over here. Jenks sat on her shoulder the entire time, and, watching them together, I remembered how J
ih, his eldest daughter, had taken to Ceri. I couldn't help but wonder if elves and pixies had a history of coexistence. I'd always thought it odd that Trent went to such great lengths to keep pixies and fairies out of his personal gardens. Almost like an addict removing the source of temptation, rather than my first guess, that he simply feared they might literally smell him out as an elf.
It was with a restored calm that I followed Ceri to the sanctuary with my wineglass and plate to take advantage of the cooler space. Her tea was already on the coffee table between the suede couch and matching pair of armchairs in the corner. I didn't know how she could stand the stuff when it was hot, but, seeing her in her lightweight dress, I had to admit she looked cooler than I was in my shorts and chemise, even though I had more skin showing. Must be an elf thing. The cold didn't seem to bother her either. I was starting to think it grossly unfair.
Set to the side was my scrying mirror to etch the calling pentagram on, my last stick of magnetic chalk, more of that yew, a ceremonial knife, my silver snips, a little white bag of sea salt, and a rude sketch Ceri had earlier drawn using Ivy's colored pencils. Ceri had brought out the bucket from the pantry, too. I didn't want to know. I really didn't want to know. The circle was going to be different from the one she had drawn on the floor just this morning: a permanent connection I wouldn't have to invoke with my blood every time I wanted to answer it.
Most of the stuff on the table was meant to get the curse to stick to the glass.
The soft clatter of our plates was pleasant as we arranged ourselves, and I collapsed into one of the cushy chairs, wanting to pretend for a few moments longer that this was just three friends getting together for lunch on a rainy summer's night. Minias could wait. I slid my plate onto my lap and picked up my fork, enjoying the quiet.
Setting the entire bottle of untouched red wine on the table beside her, Ceri took her teacup in her bandaged fingers and sipped graciously. Nervousness started to tickle and wind its way through my spine, ruining my appetite. Jenks was heading to the honey Ceri had put in her tea, and the woman capped it, putting it firmly out of his reach. Grumbling, Jenks flitted to the plants on my desk to sulk.