by Kim Harrison
“I haven’t said yes, yet,” I said, and Quen turned in the threshold, not in the kitchen, not in the hall.
“It’s said that the reason the elves and demons began their war is because of a broken alliance,” he said, the world-weary damage to his face making him look wise. “I’ve always found it to be true—that the best of friends make the bitterest of enemies. Elves and demons, forever fighting. Who is to say that demons weren’t the slaves of elves first?”
My eyes were wide as he inclined his head, spun slowly on a heel, and went down the hall. “Don’t worry about reinvoking the charms,” he said loudly, his steps going faint. “Your dad was a good man, but cheap. The silver is too frail. You’ll be able to fix the good ones.”
I dropped back against the counter, crossing my arms as I listened to him pass through the sanctuary and into the late afternoon sun. Work with Trent? With that dragon in the background watching me? Was he nuts?
Chapter Eighteen
My boots thumped dully on the sidewalk before the church, and with a bag of groceries on my hip, I smiled as I passed the red Mercedes parked at the curb, looking gray in the new dark, but still sexy. Ivy was back early.
Ivy didn’t have a car, much less anything as flamboyant as a red Mercedes, but Nina did, and if Ivy had caught an earlier flight, Nina would have offered to pick her up at the airport. Which was good, seeing as my car was still at Trent’s gatehouse.
The sound of kids playing in the dusk a block over was comforting, but when something ghosted over my head, I instinctively ducked, spinning to follow the shadow floating between me and the sky, still holding the pink of sunset. Slowly my pulse eased as I recognized the shape of a small gargoyle swooping through the spring-narrow leaves, large wings beating heavily as he or she came in almost vertically to land on a tombstone. Yellow eyes swiveled to me, and then her shape melted into the darkness.
My steps had bobbled, and knowing they had heard it, I quickened my pace. There had to be at least a dozen that had flown in since sunset, most on the tall wall surrounding the graveyard, but a few of the smaller ones sat in the neighborhood trees like huge vultures. None of them was on the church, which I thought telling. Jenks had talked to one yesterday, and apparently they were watching Bis’s church to make sure Ku’Sox didn’t damage it while he was in the ever-after.
It both pleased and worried me.
God help me, I had so much to do between now and Friday. It will be easier with Ivy back, I thought as I took the wide stairs of the church fast, shifting the reusable tote so I could get the door. But it opened as I reached for it, and Ivy stood before me, her silhouette sharp in the light pouring onto the stairs.
“Oh thank God you’re here,” I said, shifting the bag to my other hip so I could give her a hug right there on the stoop. “On top of everything else, we have to lift two elven rings from the museum.”
“I should leave more often,” she said, as her arms went briefly around me, her low, throaty voice an audible version of the vampire incense now pouring over me like fragrant oil. Giving her a last squeeze, I stepped back, beaming. Though clearly glad to see me, she was tense and furtive. Her jeans and black sweater were more casual than usual, and her hair, too, was free from its typical ponytail. The new boots she was wearing had a distinctive western feel to them, but she made it work with her sophisticated, trendy jacket.
A tight band eased about my chest as I breathed her in, her vampiric incense laced with the stale plastic scent of air flight and rental cars. Under that was the sweet honeyed smell of Daryl and Glenn’s masculine scent. They were fading, though, and Nina’s expensive perfume was by far the strongest outside influence. Ivy’s hand on my back trembled, and I let her completely go, thoughts of Jax and Nick making my smile falter. I could hear Nina inside, talking to someone. Jenks maybe? Or on the phone, perhaps.
“You should have called me sooner,” Ivy said, her tone accusing as she stepped back into the church. But then her posture slumped, and pain slipped into her black eyes. “How’s Quen doing?”
Mood darkening, I followed her in, waving the new pixy dust aside as Jenks’s kids dove into the bag to see what I’d brought back. “He’s fine, meaning he’s holding everything in, letting it fester.”
She said nothing, and I looked up, reading the concern in her eyes. She had liked Ceri, too. “How are you doing?”
A hundred answers rose up, a hundred frustrations, a hundred raging cries at the world. “I’m fine, too,” I said flatly.
Ivy’s new boots scuffed on the sanctuary’s old floor, her hair falling to hide her face as we headed to the kitchen. Nina’s excited and cheerful voice—no sign of Felix—stood at dark odds with my thoughts.
“So how are Glenn and Daryl?” I asked, and her chin lifted. Concerned, I pulled her to a stop at the top of the hallway. “Ivy?” But she wouldn’t bring her eyes down from the rafters, a hint of emotion welling up as she bit her lip. “Shit,” I whispered, flushing as I realized what I’d done. “I shouldn’t have called you.”
Her eyes flicked to mine, and she shook her head. “I was already on my way back.”
She tried to push past me to go into the hallway, and I got in her way. “What happened?” I demanded. “Did he dump you?”
Ivy’s eyes went pupil black, but I didn’t back down, even when her lips parted to show her teeth. Finally she dropped her head, saying, “Someone tried to sideswipe us on the expressway yesterday.” The way she said it precluded that it was an accident. “Glenn handled it,” she added, voice low as Nina laughed, oblivious to us. “Apparently he’s had some defensive driving classes. Almost as good as the vampire who tried to kill us.”
Her voice was light, but I was too befuddled to do anything as she pushed past me with the intoxicating scent of angry vampire, the complex cocktail plinking through my brain to make my skin ache. I’d thought it was a mistake for her to leave Cincy, but I knew how badly she’d wanted the relationship to work.
“Cormel told me not to leave. I stayed too long. His lapdog is back in the fence,” she said bitterly, halfway down the hall. “He was right. I was wrong. Everything will be fine now.”
She’d given me a reason, but something else had happened out at Flagstaff, something she didn’t want to talk about but probably needed to. Groceries on my hip, I followed her into the brightly lit kitchen. I’d mention it to Jenks. He could push her a lot further than I could, seeing as he couldn’t get bitten.
Nina looked up from Ivy’s computer as I entered, a slim finger running down a search engine list. Jenks hovered over her, clearly interested in the screen. “What will be fine?” Nina said as I dropped the bag on the counter, and the pixy kids flew out, startling me. I’d forgotten they’d been in there, and I exhaled, trying to get rid of the flash of adrenaline.
“Everything,” Ivy said. But her mood seemed glum when she strode to the window and shoved it all the way open. Cool evening air tasting of sunset seeped in, shifting my hair.
Nina wrinkled her carefully powered nose. She looked exceptionally polished tonight, wearing a versatile black pantsuit and functional low heels. Her makeup was light but exquisite, accentuating her fabulous cheekbones and dark coloring. If I hadn’t known by her voice and cadence, I would know it was just her, not Felix, by the color in her cheeks, even if her pupils were edging into a dangerous black. Her eyes were bright and eager as she typed her way through a questionnaire with a speed that was borderline impossible.
“Secrets?” the woman said good-naturedly, her red lips curving up in a smile. Nose wrinkling again, she glanced at me, then away. Oh God, I hadn’t had a chance to shower since coming back from the ever-after. I probably stank. That was why Ivy had shoved the window open, not to get rid of the scent of her anger or my flash of surprise.
Ivy sashayed over to her, and startled, Jenks rose up, wings clattering. “Secrets,” Ivy breathed as she leaned over Nina’s shoulder, her lips inches from her neck. “Always and forever, Nina. It’s what keeps u
s alive.”
Her eyes on the screen, Nina reached up to touch Ivy’s cheek, hardly noticing.
Embarrassed at my apparent stink, I unpacked the bag. Organic raspberries for an illegal doppelgänger curse, white thread since the pixy girls had absconded with mine, a new coffeemaker . . . Ivy watched in question as I set it clunking on the counter. Her eyes went to the empty spot beside the toaster, and I shrugged.
A faint wish for hot chocolate lifted through me as I took the coffeemaker apart and squirted a splat of soap into it. Filling it with water, I realized my old scar was tingling. Suddenly a lot more awake, I reached for a dish towel and turned. The coffeemaker could wait. Having my back to two amorous vampires was not a good idea.
Ivy was still hunched over Nina, a pale finger tracing something on the monitor, and I felt a pang of loss when Nina smiled beautifully up at her. Nina was on top of the world. It was right about then when things usually fell apart.
“That’s the school Wayde used,” Jenks said, hovering between Nina and the wall as he pointed to a link on the search engine’s list. “He said the rates were high, but the equipment was state-of-the-art, and that’s what you want, right?”
Nina pulled back to see Ivy. “Well, Ivy? You, me, and fifteen thousand feet next Friday?”
I almost choked. “Skydiving?” Ivy hated taking unnecessary chances. “Like two days from now?”
Still bent over Nina, Ivy met my eyes. Maintaining our connection, she found her full height before turning to the fridge. “The week after. You want to come?”
Nina froze. Realizing I’d be a third wheel on a bicycle made for two—or whatever—I turned back to the sudsy coffeemaker. “No, thanks.” It would be all over one way or the other by then. Ivy moving on was a good thing.
Ivy’s motions were intentionally slow as she came out from the fridge, frowning at Nina. She’d caught that jealous stiffening as easily as I had. “We’re out of orange juice,” she said as the door shut hard enough to make the cookie jar rattle.
“We didn’t expect you back this soon,” I said as I rinsed the coffeemaker and set it to dry.
“They have juice at the corner store,” Nina offered. “I’ll run down and get it. I could use the fresh air.” Her nose wrinkled again.
Because I’m stinking up the kitchen, I thought sourly.
Ivy glanced at Jenks with a pleading look, and the pixy brightened as Nina reached for her purse. “Hey, ah, I’ll come with you,” he said, making me more than a little curious. “I’ve got to, ah, stretch my wings. See if we’re the only church on the block with gargoyles on it.”
We were the only church on the block, period. That wasn’t why he was going with her, but content to wait and see, I leaned against the counter and dried the coffeemaker as Nina gave Ivy a quick peck on the corner of her mouth. Ivy’s hand was on her shoulder, the first softening of her mood showing. Whatever was bothering her wasn’t Nina.
Nina strode confidently from the kitchen, Jenks right behind her, his dust a hot silver as he yelled to his kids that Belle had the conn. He’s guarding her?
I put the coffeemaker back together as Nina’s footsteps grew faint. Her voice rose pleasantly as she said something to Jenks, and then there was silence. The door boomed shut.
Ivy’s jaw was tight and her head was bowed.
I exhaled long and slow. It had been a while since we’d been alone together. I hoped whatever it was, it wasn’t too late. “Nina is in a good mood,” I fished. If Ivy wanted to talk, she would.
Ivy pushed herself into motion. “She should be,” she said, a hint of pride in her as she went to her stack of mail and began sorting. “On the way home from the airport, she shoved Felix out of her mind.”
“No!” I put the coffeemaker back in its spot and levered myself up to sit before it. “I didn’t think she had any say in the matter.” Maybe this was why Jenks was with her. Felix would be pissed.
Ivy lifted a shoulder and let it fall, focused on her mail. “If he’d been conditioning her from adolescence, she wouldn’t even think to try, but she grew up without him. Their relationship is only a few months old.” She frowned at the duplicate catalogs from Vamp Vixen. “He’s been relying on her willingness until now, and Nina has a very strong core of self,” she said, smiling faintly. “It’s the first positive step she’s taken to become less dependent on him.” Her smile faded. “He uses her too much.”
Unease trickled down my spine. Though no was in a vampire’s lexicon, it was only to give the other words like sex, hunger, and violence something to bump up against. “You encouraged her to do this?” I said, and a delicate flush crept over her cheeks. “Damn it, Ivy, do you know how dangerous that is? To flaunt your independence before a master?”
Her fingers faltered as they sorted, and I slid from the counter. “Yes, you do,” I said, glad now that I smelled like burnt amber and that the window was open. “Fine. Play with the master vampire. But don’t do it here. I put you back together once. I’m not going to do it again if you go out looking for it!”
Somber, Ivy turned to me, her hair swinging. “I—”
“Don’t tell me you know what you’re doing,” I said, angry that she’d knowingly pushed Nina into something that might get Ivy hurt. “He’s a master vampire, and he’s not even yours!”
“Since when do you have anything to say about what I do!” Ivy exclaimed, her eyes flashing black.
I stood even with the center counter, measuring the space between us. Worlds, there were worlds there. “Since I am your friend,” I pleaded, letting go of my anger so my concern could come forward. “I know I said to try to help her, but goading her master like this? Proving he doesn’t have control? He’s going to be furious. Cormel can’t protect you from everything. He’s pissed you left!”
Turning away, Ivy ripped open an envelope, sorting everything into keep and toss piles.
“Ivy . . .” I pleaded. “You’ve come so far. Why? Is it because you love her?”
“I don’t know!” she said, her eyes black, not in fear, not in hunger, but in heartache. “It didn’t work out between me and Glenn and Daryl, okay? We tried, and it all fell apart. Bad.”
I slumped. This was where her turmoil was coming from. “Your needs are not wrong—”
“Then why couldn’t I make it work, Rachel?” she shouted, and I drew back. “Why did they have to move halfway across a continent to get away from me?”
Throat tight, I crossed the room to her. “Because you need someone who needs you, and I don’t anymore,” I whispered. “Ivy, I’m sorry.”
Her shoulder under my hand trembled, and she backed out of my reach. “There’s no reason to be,” she said softly, hair falling to hide her face. “I have to do this. I like Nina. She’s alive, smart, always moving but never toward anything that doesn’t have meaning. The way she loves life reminds me of you, and she is good at making me do things that I’m afraid to do. But what Felix is doing to her . . . It draws me to her as much as it disgusts me. She’s so much like a master, but innocent.”
Eyes bright with unshed tears, she looked at the ceiling. “I left for a week, and I came back to find he’s in her thoughts almost every waking moment the sun is up, and half the time at night, filling her with power and desire as he sucks in the memory of the sun and love. He won’t leave her alone. I don’t think he can anymore.” Again she looked at her fingers among her mail, shifting them aimlessly. “The man is using her like a drug. He’s not tapping her for blood anymore, which might mean she’s become an extension of himself in his mind. Nina is balanced on a fine edge of control.”
“And you like it.”
Head down, she nodded, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She felt better for having told me. I could tell. Or maybe it was because I was asking about what she could do, plan . . . fix. “She’s as dependent upon him for control as he is on her for stimulation at this point. He can die twice for all I care, but I don’t want her to pay for his mistake. The only chance Nin
a has to survive is to take control and tell him no for as long as she can. Even if it puts her in more danger.”
And it would. I could tell. This wasn’t good.
“Nina’s control when alone and under stress is almost nil,” Ivy said, eyes lowered toward the table. “That’s why I asked Jenks to go with her, to buffer any conflicts. I know I can help her learn control if I can keep them apart long enough.” Her head came up, meeting my eyes fully. “She has a chance. If she really wants it, she has a chance.”
I managed a smile to match her own tremulous expression. Ivy had a tremendous need to give, to lift others above the muck she had pulled herself out of. Watching Nina innocently and willingly slip in over her head had been hard. Accepting the challenge to help her was even harder. “Be careful,” I said as I reached across the distance between us and touched her arm. “I’m proud of you, Ivy.”
Her smile slowly vanished, and her dark eyes drifted aimlessly over our kitchen, touching parts of our lives as if she’d never seen them before. “Felix is going to be looking for her tonight. I have to get her to a safe house, but I’ll be back to help plan the museum job.” She took a deep breath, her chin lifting as if she was taking on a new responsibility—or maybe accepting that I wished her well. “The hell they put us through,” she whispered.
I didn’t know what to say. I could tell she was about to leave.
“I should probably go,” Ivy said. “Jenks won’t be able to do much if she loses it. I didn’t want to bring up the safe house while she was in the church. She thinks she’s got the world by the tail.”
Yet another trait that Nina and I shared. “That’s usually when you get bitten,” I said, and Ivy smiled. Nina was far away and distant from me, but there was enough there to make an easy comparison. Ivy might not know it yet, but she was falling in love again.
Ivy reached for her purse, then hesitated. “Are you sure you’ll be okay for a few hours?”
My gut hurt, and I smiled widely. “Oh, hell yes. Nick is around somewhere, but I’ll be fine, especially with all those gargoyles. Ku’Sox won’t show, afraid the curse will bounce back at him. Go.”