by Kim Harrison
I pressed into the wall, wanting to escape. Skimmer put her mouth on an old scar under Ivy’s ear, and a rush of remembered ecstasy rose through me at Ivy’s tormented intake of breath.
“Don’t do this,” Ivy whispered, her hands rising to take Skimmer’s elbows, but she couldn’t push her away. It was too much. I knew it felt too good, and I leaned against the wall, unable to look away as the pheromones lit through my own scars and dove to my groin.
“I’m not making you do anything,” Skimmer said. “You want to do this. How bad do you want to know who killed that bastard Kisten? How much did you love him? Was it real? Or was he just another one of your toys?”
I clenched my jaw harder. My neck was flaming, sending tendrils of promised ecstasy down my long muscles, making them tremble. “That’s not fair,” I managed. “Stop it.”
Skimmer moved to Ivy’s earlobe. “Life seldom is,” she said, and I watched, fixated, as she bit down gently on Ivy’s lobe, her white teeth on Ivy’s skin. “Push me away,” Skimmer whispered into her ear. “You can’t do it. You’re a monster, my sweet, and only I will love you. Little Bo Peep will lose her sheep if the sheep can see inside her. You’ll be all alone, Ivy. And I’m the only one who loves you.”
I exhaled, but the vampire scent I pulled in after it only made things worse. My eyes closed and I held myself, almost rocking with the pain of not wanting to be here. Too late I saw Skimmer’s plan. She was going to drive Ivy into biting her, thinking if I saw Ivy rip open Skimmer’s throat in a release of blood lust that I’d abandon her. Or if it turned into sex, the same result. This was ugly. It wasn’t love, it was manipulation, using Ivy’s instincts against her will. And Ivy couldn’t stop it.
The soft sounds of Skimmer coaxing Ivy made my stomach clench as private moments from their past were laid out before me. My focus went blurry as I tried to divorce myself from it, but the combination of my fear and the vampire pheromones ripped through the barriers my mind had made, and with the suddenness of a slap, a memory of Kisten surfaced.
I gasped, holding my breath as I felt my face go blank. Slowly I slid down the wall until I found a corner. It was a memory not of Kisten, but of his killer, one so close to what Skimmer was doing to Ivy that it had triggered a memory of my own struggle.
Oh God, I thought as I clenched my eyes, trying to keep the memory from growing on itself, but I couldn’t…stop it, and as I sat, my knees to my chin, I remembered.
Kisten’s killer tried to blood-rape me, exactly like Skimmer is trying to do to Ivy. Breath held, I put a hand to my neck as the memory of him playing on my scar slithered into my conscious mind. I remembered him holding me against the wall, bespelling me. I remembered the waves of passion he sent through me with only the lightest of touches, passion mixed with loathing, disgust, and desire. His fingers had been rough and aggressive, and I had been confused. The sound of Ivy’s ragged panting as she struggled to say no ignited a memory of me doing the same. They were so familiar, so god-awful familiar.
“No,” Ivy whispered, and I felt my own lips form the word. I had said no, too, and then I had begged him to bite me, hating myself as I writhed for it. I could almost feel the boat rocking as I recalled standing with my back to the wall, my hands clenched upon him, as they were clenched about my knees right now. Tears started. I had begged for it, just as Ivy was about to.
And Kisten, I remembered, hadn’t let me. In my thoughts, I had a vision of Kisten, confused and not himself, knocking us apart so I could regain my will. He had done it knowing the other vampire would end his life a second time, but he had loved me so deeply that just the shadow memory of it had broken past his first death and he had made the sacrifice.
Anger burned through my misery, driving the Skimmer-and-Ivy-induced, pulse-pounding ecstasy deep, where I could see beyond it. Head up, I wiped the tears away, wishing I could do the same for my fragmented memory, but it was there now, and I’d never forget. I focused on Skimmer and Ivy, heart breaking at what Ivy had to suffer simply because of who she was, her vulnerabilities tied closely to her strengths. Kisten had saved me. I could do no less for Ivy.
Ivy was trembling, her lips parted and her eyes closed as she forgot how to say no, tasting the sweetness she couldn’t refuse. Victory was in Skimmer’s face as she nuzzled Ivy’s neck, and her eyes were black with the power she had over Ivy, taking herself higher by dragging Ivy down to her swill.
My teeth clenched, and the remembered scent of damp cement spilled through my memory. I staggered to my feet, and it was as if I could taste cold, dry iron on my tongue. I strode forward, making my hands into fists as the memory of running my hands through Kisten’s killer’s short black hair filled me.
Skimmer gasped and arched into Ivy, encouraging her, blind to me coming at her.
It was almost too late. Ivy’s fangs were wet, glistening, and a flash of remembered heat sparked through me at the memory of them sliding cleanly into me, mixing pleasure and pain in an unreal surge of adrenaline and endorphins. Shaking, I took a breath.
“I’m sorry, Ivy,” I whispered, then punched her in the gut.
Ivy’s breath whooshed out. Hands on her middle, she stumbled, struggling to breathe.
“You bitch!” Skimmer screamed, too shocked to move as the expected rush of a bite had been ripped from her. If I had hit her, she would have instinctively reacted and I’d probably be dead. Even dying, Kisten had taught me one more lesson. He had gone after his murderer, and it had cost him his undead existence. He had died for me. He had died for me.
Ivy took in an ugly gasp of breath. I spared her a glance, then fell into a defensive stance between them. “Leave Ivy alone.”
Skimmer screamed in frustration, her eyes black and her hands cramped into claws, but I had knocked her on her butt once before, and she knew I could take her.
“Ivy?” I called, risking a glance back to see that she was still lost in the throes of blood lust even as she struggled for air. Crap on toast. I hadn’t expected to have to handle both of them at once. “Ivy!” I shouted, angling to get her out from behind me yet keeping an eye on Skimmer, too. “Look at me. Look at me! Who do you want to be tomorrow?”
Her hands still on her middle, Ivy peered at me from around the curtain of her hair. She got one clean breath, then another. To my right, Skimmer started shaking in frustration. Ivy looked at her, her face horrified.
“Who do you want to be tomorrow?” I asked again, seeing her awareness return. “You haven’t lost anything, Ivy. It’s okay. You didn’t lose. You’re still the same.”
She blinked, and a rim of brown showed about her pupils. “Oh my God,” Ivy whispered, then straightened. “You sorry little…vampire!” she shouted. “How could you do that to me!”
Ivy took three steps, and I got between them. Behind me, Skimmer was pressed into a corner in fear. “Ivy, don’t!” I demanded.
Her eyes were still black, the fear heavy that she’d almost lost herself, to be ruled by her instincts, and a shiver lifted through me. “Let it go,” I said, and her jaw unclenched. My breath slipped from me in relief, and I inhaled. She smelled delicious when she was pissed.
Skimmer saw Ivy regain her will, and knowing that I’d given it to her, something in her broke. “She’s mine!” the vampire shouted, and she leapt, fangs bared and snarling.
I ducked, and I heard a soft “Ooff.” Skimmer fell to the floor beside me in a crumpled heap. I looked up at Ivy from my crouch. Pain and betrayal had replaced her hunger, and deeper than that, gratitude.
“You can’t have her!” Skimmer was crying, pushing into a folded ball of misery. “She’s mine. She’s mine! I’ll kill you. I’ll kill you just like I killed Piscary!”
Ivy extended a shaking hand to help me rise. “Are you okay?”
I looked up at her, standing between me and a jealous death. Her eyes were mostly brown, the pain at what was happening mirrored in her gaze, familiar. I turned to Skimmer, sobbing and scared. Taking a shallow breath, I put my hand
into Ivy’s and let her help me up. “Yes,” I whispered as I stumbled until I found my balance. I didn’t feel so good.
Ivy wouldn’t look at Skimmer. “I think we should go.”
She moved to the door, and I glanced at Skimmer. “We didn’t get what we came for.”
“I don’t care.”
Ivy tapped on the door, and when that brought Miltast, though the screams hadn’t, Skimmer rallied. “Bitch!” she shouted, lunging at me again. Ivy was ready, and Skimmer ran right into Ivy’s stiff-armed palm. My pulse hammered at how fast it had been.
Gasping, Skimmer fell back. Her hands covered her face, but blood leaked from her nose. Crying now in earnest, the small vampire collapsed onto the couch. Her back was to us, and as I almost ran through the open door, Ivy hesitated. I watched from the hall as she put a loving hand on Skimmer’s shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” I heard her whisper. “I loved you, but I can’t do this anymore.”
Skimmer hunched deeper. “I’ll kill her,” she sobbed. “If you stay with her, I’ll kill her.”
A chill ran through me. Not at her words, but at the love in Ivy’s arms as she curved them around Skimmer. “No, you won’t. Rachel isn’t the one who showed me I deserved to be loved. You did. Tell me who came to visit Piscary.”
“Get out,” Skimmer sobbed, pushing weakly at Ivy. Blood stained her white jumpsuit, and Miltast stiffened upon seeing it.
“Who visited Piscary off the lists?” Ivy insisted.
Skimmer’s shaking stopped as she gave up. “No one but Kisten came,” she said, her high voice bland. “Once a week, three days after you. No one else.”
I exhaled, and a sorry-assed depression took hold. Nothing. We had gotten nothing.
“I loved you, Ivy,” Skimmer whispered in a dead voice. “Get out. Don’t come back.”
Ivy stood, her head bowed. Steadying herself, she turned and strode to the door, passing me in a wash of sour, unhappy-vampire incense. Boots clacking on the hard floor, she continued down the hallway alone.
I jumped to follow. I heard Miltast lock the door and then his booted steps. I caught up to Ivy at the locked door where we waited for Miltast. “Are you all right?” I questioned, not knowing what she was feeling.
“She’ll be okay,” Ivy said, jaw tight and not looking at me.
Miltast fumbled for the door lock, swiping his card and falling back when Ivy pushed through it ahead of him. “I can’t believe you didn’t get bitten,” he said in apparent awe.
My eyes narrowed and I decided that they’d let me in there expecting me to come out hurt or dead. He was a white witch who had the government’s blessing to do black magic. And if I made one wrong move, he’d react. Disgusted, I turned on my heel and followed Ivy.
I could hear his steps slow behind me, and my skin prickled. I finally caught up with her at the first door. The old woman at the spell checker, standing up and getting the check-out forms ready, seemed surprised to see us.
“Ivy,” I said as we waited for Miltast to catch up, her head down and silent. “I’m sorry.”
Finally her stoic expression cracked and she looked at me, unshed tears glinting. “I didn’t know she was going to do that,” she said. “Thank you for hitting me. I…couldn’t say no. Damn it, I couldn’t. I thought—”
She cut her thought short when Miltast slid the glass door aside. The air wasn’t much fresher, but I pulled it in deep as I crossed into the middle ground, trying to rid myself of the accumulated vampire pheromones. Sighing, I put a hand to my neck and let it drop. “You’re not serious about going on a blood fast,” I asked as I handed Miltast my badge.
Ivy’s fingers shook as she peeled off her name tag and handed it to the officer. “I was thinking about it,” she said evenly.
Even Miltast knew it was a bad idea, and he eyed me as we signed our forms again and headed to the final door. If she was on a blood fast, living with her was going to be a lot harder.
“What a waste of time,” Ivy said softly as we passed back through the spell checker and the woman gave us our stuff; but it hadn’t been, and my pulse quickened. I remembered. I had remembered a lot. Ignoring my shaky knees, I wound my scarf around my neck, and with my bag under my arm, I headed for the double glass doors and the brutal but honest chill of the night. Milktoast and his friend had been privy to too much of our drama already.
“Actually,” I said as I wrangled my gloves on while Ivy held the door open for me, “it wasn’t a waste. Seeing you and Skimmer…I remembered something.”
Ivy stopped dead in her tracks, pulling me to a halt in a puddle of light just outside. It seemed to have gotten colder in the hour we’d been inside, and the night air cut into my lungs like a knife, making my thoughts crystal clear after the heated confusion behind the glass walls. I pulled the dry air, smelling of snow and exhaust, in deep, relishing it and seeing the past moments with a clearer eye.
“Kisten—” I said, warming, then flushed. God, this was hard, and I closed my eyes to keep them from filling. Maybe I could say it if I couldn’t see her. “Kisten’s killer had dry hands,” I said. “Rough. He smelled like damp cement, and his fingertips tasted of cold iron.” I knew this because I’d had them in my mouth. God help me, I had begged him to bite me.
My jaw clenched, and I forced it to relax as I opened my eyes. “Kisten was dead,” I said as the snow started to show on Ivy’s black-clad shoulder. “I think it was an accident. His killer hadn’t touched his blood yet, and he was really mad about that…. So he was going to make me his shadow instead. He…he was making me beg for it.” I took a shaky breath. If I didn’t tell her now, I might not ever. “He was playing on my scar to make me beg him to bite me. Kisten stopped him. He knew it might end with him dead twice, but he did it anyway.”
Ivy’s head dropped, and she rubbed her forehead.
“I’m sorry,” I said, not knowing why. “He let himself be killed again because he loved me.”
The light glistened on Ivy’s tear-wet eyes when she looked up. “But he couldn’t remember why he loved you, could he?”
I shook my head when a remembered feeling of mental pain drifted up. “No, he couldn’t.”
Ivy silently took that in. Deep in her shadowed eyes I could see her wish that I might find a way to save her from that fate. “I don’t want to live not remembering why I love,” she finally said, her face pallid as she looked ahead to her own soul death.
“I’m sorry, Ivy,” I whispered as I fell into step beside her while we headed for my vehicle.
“It’s what we are,” she said stoically.
But it wasn’t who she wanted to be.
Twenty-two
Ivy’s head was down as we walked into the parking lot, aiming for my red convertible under a distant security light. Snow had covered all but the warm cars, and the world was white and black. “I’m sorry,” she said, not looking at me. “I could have gotten you killed in there.”
I breathed in another lungful of cold air to try to clear my head. “I’m fine. You didn’t.”
“I could have.” She slowed to let me go first between two cars, looking at me with her face deceptively placid. “Your aura was compromised and you can’t make a circle. I’m sorry. Asking you to do that when you’re not well was a mistake. They were expecting you to die in there, or worse.”
Linking my arm in hers, I pulled her after me, angling for the shortest path to my car. I could see it, its bright red paint looking gray in the streetlight and the snow sticking only to the cooler roof. “I guess we fooled them, huh?”
Ivy stiffened, but I wouldn’t let her pull out of my grip in the narrow passage. If I didn’t touch her, she wouldn’t believe that she was worth the emotional baggage she brought to both our lives. “I’m fine,” I said, becoming serious. “I wanted to know who killed Kisten, too. Now we know more.” Not exactly how I would have chosen it, but okay. “Don’t worry about it.”
Ivy predictably pulled out of my grip the moment we came out f
rom between the two cars, glancing over her shoulder through the snow to the quiet building. “I’m not going to be that person anymore,” she said, and my eyes widened when she wiped her eyes with the back of a gloved hand to show a glint of moisture in the security light. “I can’t do this,” she whispered, clearly shaken to her core. “Rachel, I’m sorry. I understand that I can’t bite you again. I’m sorry I ever tried. You’re better than that, and I’m bringing you down.”
“You are the strongest person I know!” I protested, but she shook her head, wiping her eyes again. She was down to the bare bones of herself. Skimmer had shaken her to her core.
“Anyone I once called a friend wouldn’t have been able to do what you did in there,” she said, chin trembling. “Or if they did break us apart, it would have been to take Skimmer’s place. I don’t want to be that person, and I won’t be. I’m off blood. Completely.”
My eyes widened, and I felt a slip of fear. Sensing it, Ivy’s jaw clenched and she strode away. “Wait, Ivy. That’s not necessarily a good idea,” I called after her.
“Piscary is dead, I can be who I want,” she said over her shoulder.
“But you’re a vampire,” I protested as I followed, worried. “It’s what you are!”
She stopped, turning to stare at me, and I came to a halt, a car between us.
“Look, I’m not saying I want you to bite me,” I said, gesturing. “But I’ve lived with you while you’re on a blood fast, and the more you try to be what you aren’t, the more confused you get and the harder it is to live with you.”
Ivy’s mouth opened. Betrayal shone in her eyes. “Abstinence is all I’ve got, Rachel.” Turning, she paced to the car, a shadow of black among the gray and white of falling snow.
“Nice one, Rache,” I muttered, thinking there had to be a better way to have said that. Hands jammed into my pockets, I slowly pushed myself into motion. The ride home ought to be swell. There was only so much a little green cardboard tree could do. Ivy on a blood fast was not fun, but she was right to be pissed at me. How could I not support her desire to be who she wanted to be? I did support her, but going on a blood fast wasn’t the answer. She needed to break the cycle. She had to end the addiction completely. There had to be something in Al’s books for this. Or maybe Trent…