by Kim Harrison
The elevator opened to show a smaller, friendlier lobby with a Christmas tree and solstice decorations, and beyond, a big black Hummer burning gas at the snowy curb. “About once a week,” she said, pushing me forward.
Jenks was humming happily about a horse with no name. The lady at the desk was on the phone, eyeing us, but my worry vanished when she waved, telling whoever she was talking to that the lobby was empty. Just her and Dan.
Dan was a young man in an orderly’s smock, and he opened the door for us with a grin. “Hurry,” he said as Jenks dived into my jacket and I zipped it up. “They’re right behind you.”
Ivy smiled. “Thanks, Dan. I’ll bring you some ice cream.”
Dan grinned. “You do that. I’ll just tell them you hit me.”
She laughed, and with that pleasant sound in my ears, we left the hospital.
It was bitterly cold, but the doors to the Hummer swung open, and two living vamps jumped out. “Uh, Ivy, that’s not Erica,” I said when they made a beeline for us. They were in black jeans and matching black T-shirts that all but screamed security, and I tensed.
“Erica’s got people,” Ivy said when Erica slid down and out from the backseat. Ivy’s sister looked like a younger version of Ivy without all the emotional baggage: bright, happy, and active. Piscary had never looked her way due to Ivy intentionally distracting him, and the young living vamp was innocence where Ivy was jaded, loud where Ivy was reserved, and Ivy would do anything to keep it that way, even sacrificing herself.
“Oh my God!” the young woman squealed. “You’re really breaking out of the hospital? Ivy called, and I was like, oh my God! Of course I’ll pick you up. Then Rynn offered to drive, and it was a no-brainer. I mean, who wants to be picked up in their mom’s station wagon?”
“Rynn Cormel is here?” I murmured, suddenly on edge, then started when the two burly living vamps in black jeans and matching T-shirts made a chair of their arms around me and I was airborne. The cold didn’t seem to affect them, which seemed unfair. Old scars made an ugly mass on the neck of one man, but the other had only one, and it was relatively old.
“What happened to your mom’s sedan?” I asked Ivy, and Erica fidgeted with the collar of her coat, her narrow-tipped boots marking the snow.
“A tree hit it,” Erica said. “Totally totaled it. Not my fault. It was squirrel karma.”
Squirrel karma?
“I’ll tell you later,” Ivy said as she leaned close. The intoxicating mix of vampire incense and male warmth was thick around me, and it was almost a disappointment when the two guys eased me into the back and let go. I didn’t recognize them; they weren’t Piscary’s old crew.
“Are you okay?” I asked Erica as she slid in beside me with the scent of citrus.
“Oh, sure, but Mom almost died twice.”
Ivy had gotten into the front seat, and looking remarkably relaxed, she leaned over the back. “The only person who almost died twice was you,” she said to her sister, and Erica played with the thin strips of black leather dangling from her ears. She was still going Goth, complete with peekaboo lace at the neck and little tomatoes dangling among the skull and crossbones on her necklace. I wondered what she was doing with Rynn Cormel, as he was very much the sophisticate, but Ivy didn’t seem worried, and Erica was as bright as ever.
There was a folded newspaper on the seat, but my sigh at the picture of the mall turned into a frown when I read, WITCH FLEES CIRCLE MALL, CAUSE OF RIOT? Isn’t that nice…
“Are we all in?” came a rusty New York accent from my left, and I jumped, not having noticed Rynn Cormel in the corner. Holy crap, the attractively aged, former political leader was right next to me, and God, he smelled good. His power-colored tie was loosened and his hair was tousled, as if Erica had been in it. Smiling his world-famous, world-changing smile, which showed the barest hint of fang, he folded the newspaper and tucked it away. Shifting his eyes to the driver through the rearview mirror, he silently told her to go.
The door to my right slammed shut, and I was shoved closer to the undead vampire, making my pulse race. Ivy pushed to the middle in the front seat, and the other vamp got in beside her. With the thump of the closing door, alarm hit me. I was in a car with one dead vamp and five living ones. It was starting to smell really good in here. And if I liked what it smelled like, then they were liking what they were smelling, and ah…that would be me.
“Uh,” I stammered when we crept into motion, and Rynn Cormel laughed with the practiced art of diplomacy.
“You are the last person who needs to fear anything from me, Ms. Morgan,” he said, his eyes a safe brown in the streetlights. “I have other plans for you.”
It might have sounded like a threat, but I knew what his plans were, and it didn’t involve his teeth in my neck. Just the opposite, actually. “Yeah, but still,” I protested when Erica shoved me over even more, thinking it was great fun by the amount of giggling and jumping she was doing. She was in black tights and a miniskirt, and not showing even a hint of being cold.
“Drive slowly,” Ivy demanded. “She gets dizzy if you go too fast.”
My focus became distant, and I suddenly realized there was only the barest hint of vertigo running through me, and we were going a lot faster than an elevator. “I’m fine,” I said softly, and Ivy turned to look at me in surprise when we drove sedately under a streetlamp. I nodded, and she turned back around.
“Thanks, Ivy. Thank you, Jenks,” I said as we slowed, then pulled onto the road.
“That’s what we’re here for,” came Jenks’s muffled response. “Now how about a little air?” and I unzipped my coat until he yelled that it was enough.
Remembering the kids, I leaned over to look up at the tall building behind us, knowing exactly where to look. Clustered at the wide plate-glass windows three stories up were five faces pressed against the glass. I waved, and one waved back. Happy, I settled into the seat of Rynn Cormel’s car, promising myself I would come back and bring them my old tea set. Or maybe my stuffed animals. And ice cream.
“Thanks for picking us up, Mr. Cormel,” I said, and the vampire breathed deep. The almost inaudible sound seemed to dive to my middle and pluck a long-silent chord. Warmth flooded me, and I found myself gazing at nothing, completely relaxed, just existing in the hint of promise he was giving off. It wasn’t anything like the lame groping of the young undead vampire at the mall, and Ivy’s neck stiffened.
Rynn Cormel leaned over to touch her shoulder. “It was my pleasure,” he said to me, but his fingers were on Ivy. “I was on my way to visit you, actually. I have some information.”
Ivy’s eyes were pupil black when she turned to see us. “You know who killed Kisten?”
I held my breath, but the man shook his head. “I know who didn’t.”
Fifteen
The atmosphere in the Hummer shifted dramatically after Erica was dropped off at work. Relieved, I watched the happy vampire wave good-bye, then flounce into the computer-security firm, the armed doorman holding the door for her and giving us a short nod. She acted like an airhead, she talked like an airhead, she dressed like a wealthy airhead, but there was a brain attached to the elaborate Goth costume and bright outlook. And unlike Ivy, Erica’s outward demeanor wasn’t a mask for a deeper depression.
“Good God,” one of Cormel’s security guys muttered as we started off again. “That girl doesn’t shut up.”
I normally would have come back with something about women having to make up for men’s inabilities in that area, but he was right. If Erica was awake, she was flapping her lip.
Shoulders relaxing, I eased into the leather to enjoy the space Erica had left. It was warm, and the vampire pheromones were building. It’d been a while since I’d been exposed to this much. My association with vamps had fallen drastically after Kisten died.
A faint alarm took root, and my eyes opened. I didn’t want to get caught up with vampires again, as pleasant as that had been—as this was. It was a slow declin
e into passivity. It would kill me slowly or force me to react explosively. I knew it. Ivy knew it. Perhaps Kisten’s death had been a blessing, as hard it had been. I couldn’t say he was bad for me—he had strengthened me where I hadn’t known I was weak, taught me a culture one had to learn by experience. His death broke my heart, my ignorance, and saved me from myself…and I didn’t want it to be made meaningless by ignoring what he’d taught me.
Bittersweet memories swirled, and I sat up to put my bag firmly on my lap. Beside me, the elegant Rynn Cormel touched his mouth with the back of his hand. I think he was smiling. I warmed, guessing that he had seen me go on guard.
Rynn Cormel was not the stereotypical master vampire. He hadn’t been dead long enough yet to pass the tricky forty-year barrier, and he didn’t try to disguise the age at which he had died, maintaining an athletic forty-something appearance, his jet-black hair silvering slightly and his face having the first faint wrinkles that help men get higher-paying jobs and that women try to hide. He knew I had become suspicious, but he didn’t pretend he hadn’t noticed. He didn’t make any cryptic statements that “it would do no good,” making it part threat, part promise. He was just so damned…normal. Political.
I gave him the once-over, from his freshly arranged hair, down his black cashmere coat, to his shiny black shoes. The shoes were inappropriate for the weather, but it wasn’t as if he was going to get cold. It was all for show.
Seeing my attention, Cormel smiled. The man was tall, well dressed, and had a good body. His laugh was pleasant and his manner comfortable, but he wasn’t beautiful or otherwise remarkable, being too pale and wan to be attractive—until he smiled, and then he was breathtaking. His was the smile that had saved the world, literally holding it together as everything exploded and coalesced in a brand-new way after the Turn. It was the promise of gentle honesty, security, protection, freedom, and prosperity. Seeing it directed at me, I forced my eyes away and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.
Ivy had stiffened, reading what was going on in the backseat by the signals I was unconsciously giving off. Hell, the entire car could. Her brow was pinched in concern when she turned to see us. “The hospital is going to have the cops looking for her until we can get the paperwork for an AMA,” she said. “They don’t want a lawsuit if she collapses.”
From my coat, Jenks laughed, and I jumped, having forgotten he was there. “What are the chances that won’t happen?” he quipped, then levered himself out to sit on my shoulder in the warmth of my scarf now that Erica was gone.
“We’ve made arrangements to stay with a friend, not too far from the church so Jenks can man the phones,” Ivy said, her gaze flicking nervously from Cormel to me. There was a helpless fear there, not the raw fear Piscary had evoked in her when he’d looked at me, but the fear that Cormel might become interested in me. It wasn’t jealousy—it was fear of abandonment. “If you head to the church, I can direct you when we get closer,” she finished.
Jenks snickered. “How many times have you passed out this year, Rache?”
Miffed, I tried to see him, but he was too close. “You wanna pass out right now, Jenks?”
“I’d enjoy it if you would stay with me,” Cormel said, his gloved hands folded quietly in his lap. “I have lots of room now that I’ve put the upper floors back into an apartment. There’s only one bed up there, but one of you can sleep on the couch.”
Couch? I thought dryly. He’d just as soon see Ivy and me sharing more than rent, but I couldn’t find a hint of suggestion in his tone. Besides, I couldn’t spend the night there. I had to get hold of my scrying mirror to call Al and get tomorrow off, and all before sunrise. This time of year put it at about eight, and I was starting to get anxious.
“The Chickering was delivered last week,” Rynn Cormel said, shifting so his entire attention landed on me. “Have you heard Ivy play the piano, Rachel? She has such a sensitive touch. She should have been encouraged to go professional.” Then he smiled. “Though she will have centuries to follow that path if she ever desires.”
“Yes,” I said, remembering the few times I’d walked in on Ivy lost at the keys. She quit every time; the piano left her more open and raw than she wanted me to see her.
“Wonderful.” Cormel leaned to touch the driver in direction. “Call ahead to get the heat turned up, if you would.”
My eyes closed briefly at the misunderstanding and I shook my head. “No, I mean I’ve heard her play, but we can’t stay.”
“Thank you anyway, Rynn,” Ivy said softly, as if she’d been waiting for me to say no first. “Jenks needs to get home to mind the firm. No one will arrest a pixy, but it’s likely there will be trouble, and I don’t want to be halfway across the Hollows when it hits our door.”
Cormel arched his dark eyebrows, his pale complexion making them appear stark in the dim light. “You’ll have dinner with me at least? I don’t have the chance since leaving office to entertain as often as I’m accustomed to. I find I miss it, surprisingly.” He smiled faintly, settling himself with the sound of sliding cashmere. “It’s impressive how many political understandings one can reach over a glass of good wine. Tasha is out, and I don’t think I can stand another evening listening to our security procedures and how to improve them.”
The driver chuckled, but when I took a breath to gracefully decline, Cormel inclined his head, stopping me. “I need a few hours to get your AMA pushed through. You can be sleeping in your own church this morning. Let me do this for you. I need to speak to Ivy as well about what I learned.”
Ivy’s eyes flicked to mine, asking me to say yes. She obviously liked the man, and knowing how Piscary had treated her, I found it hard to say no. Besides, I wanted to know who’d killed Kisten, too. Thinking I was vacillating, Jenks whispered, “Why the hell not?”
Dinner was a small price to pay for my AMA and information about Kisten, and I nodded, anticipation replacing my faint caution. Ivy smiled, and the driver made a slow U-bangy to head to the Hollows waterfront.
“Capital,” Cormel said as he gave us all a closed-lipped but sincere smile. “Jeff, would you call ahead to make sure there’s a bite to eat while dinner is being finished? And make sure we have two extra places, please, and something for Jenks.”
The living vamp beside Ivy took out his cell phone and hit a single number. Jeff was the one with only a single visible scar, but I was willing to bet there were more hidden under his T-shirt. His low voice was pleasant and hardly audible over the blowing of the heater, turned high for Jenks or possibly me. Cormel and Ivy talked about nothing as my gut wound tighter, until Cormel cracked a window to get rid of the tension I was giving off. I thought my anticipation was from finding out what Cormel had learned about Kisten’s death, but when we turned onto the waterfront, I realized where the adrenaline was really coming from.
The instant the wheels turned onto the less-used street, an old fear dripped through me, igniting memory. We were going to Piscary’s.
I looked down to find that my hands were clenched, and I forced them apart as we slowed to a crawl. The place looked about the same, the two-story tavern peaceful under six inches of undisturbed snow. The lights were on upstairs, and someone was closing the drapes. A section of the parking lot had been torn up and young trees now stood where rusty two-doors had once parked. The beginnings of a wall had been started to fence in a garden, perhaps, not done and so left until the spring and warmer temperatures. There was no boat at the quay.
“You okay, Rache?” Jenks asked, and I exhaled, forcing my hands to unclasp again.
“Yeah,” I said softly. “I haven’t been here since Kisten died.”
“Me neither,” he said, but he hadn’t ever been here to begin with. Except when I was here getting into trouble, that is.
I flicked a glance at Ivy as we crept to the side entrance where trucks had once delivered produce from all over the world. She looked fine, but she’d been here often enough that the pain had dulled. Everyone was silent as we
stopped before the closed door to the loading dock. A vamp got out to open it, and Jenks’s wings brushed my neck as he snuggled in against the cold.
“Rachel,” Cormel asked solicitously as the roll-up door noisily raised. “Would you prefer a restaurant? I hadn’t considered that my home had bad memories for you. I’ve made changes,” he coaxed. “It’s not the same.”
Ivy was looking at me like I was a wimp, and I glanced at his eyes, almost black in the dim light. “Just memories,” I said.
“Good ones mixed with the bad, I hope?” he said as we drove into the cold, dry, and dark loading dock. I felt a faint tingle at my scar as the darkness took us. Affronted, I stared at him until the tingle vanished. Was he making a play for me? If he bound me, I’d do anything he wanted, thinking it was my idea. And when the vampire pulled the roll-up door shut to make the darkness absolute but for the headlamps, I realized how vulnerable I was. Shit.
“Let’s get inside, and you can see what I’ve done with the place,” Cormel said pleasantly, and as my pulse quickened, the doors to the Hummer started opening.
I slid across the long seat to the door with my bag in my hand, and as everyone milled around to make their slow way up the cement steps to the back door, I pretended to adjust my coat before I got out. This might be the last time I could have a private word with Jenks until we got home. “What’s my aura look like, Jenks?” I asked, and got a pixy-size sigh in return.
“It’s thin, but no holes. I think the emotion the kids stirred up in you helped boost it.”
“It comes from emotion?” I murmured, deciding at the last moment to leave my bag in the Hummer as I took the hand of the vamp holding the door and made the careful slide to the cement pad.
“Where did you think it came from?” he said, laughing, from my scarf. “Fairy farts?”
I sighed, shaking my head at Ivy’s inquiring look. I didn’t like being out with my aura so thin, but he said it was better, and I trusted that no one was going to bite me. I was clearly ill, and that was a turnoff in the vamp world, instilling an almost overboard, lavishing sense of caring in the undead and still living alike. Maybe that was what I was seeing.