For a Few Demons More th-5

by Ким Харрисон

  "She wouldn't answer me," he said. He resumed pacing, and I watched, wondering how much of his outburst had been worry for Ivy finding an easy outlet in anger at me. "She just packed her clothes and her computer and her music and left."

  My eyes went to the fridge and the empty tomato magnet. "She took our picture."

  "Yeah."

  I pulled myself up. Something had happened, but it was unlikely she knew about Kisten and me, and there was no way for her to find out until she got back. Jenks was the only one who knew; I had taken the bus home, so even Steve wouldn't smell Kisten's blood in me. "Who called? Skimmer?" I asked, wondering if it had simply been an emergency run. An emergency run she hadn't taken Jenks on? Or even told him what it was?

  "I don't know," Jenks said. "I came in when I heard the whine of her computer shut off."

  Lips pressed together, I thought about that.

  "Why, Rachel?" Jenks asked, his voice tired.

  I didn't move anything but my eyes. "My biting Kisten is not why she left."

  His angular face pinched in distress. "Maybe someone found out and called her."

  The thought of what Ivy was capable of in a fit of rage passed through me, and I reached for my shoulder bag. The timing was wrong, but still… "Maybe I should call Kisten."

  He nodded in worry, coming closer as I punched the right buttons. I held the phone from my ear, and we both listened to it ring until it shunted me into voice mail. "Hey, Kisten," I said, eyes on Jenks, "give me a call when you get this. Ivy wasn't here when I got home. She took her computer and music. I don't think she knows, but I'm worried." I wanted to say more, but there wasn't more to say. " 'Bye," I whispered, and hit the "end" button. 'Bye? God, I sounded like a little lost girl.

  Jenks peered up at me, the color returning to his wings. "Call Ivy," he demanded, but I was already ahead of him. This time I was dumped right into voice mail, and I left a guilty-sounding message that I had to talk to her and not to do anything until I talked to her. I wanted to say I was sorry, but I closed the phone and looked at it sitting alone on the counter.

  Suddenly the pastries arranged on their plate looked trite. I was an ass. "Jenks…"

  The coaxing in my voice turned his worry into a cold anger. "I don't want to hear about it. You screwed everything up for one moment of blood passion. Even if that's not why she left, she will when she finds out. What's wrong with you? Can't you leave things alone? "

  "No, I can't!" I exclaimed. "And it wasn't just a moment of blood passion, it was an affirmation of what I feel for Kisten, so you can shove it, you little twit. I know what I'm doing," I said. He opened his mouth to protest, and I threw my hand up in the air. "Okay, maybe I don't, but I'm trying to figure this out. It's all mixed up. The blood, the passion. It's all mixed up, and I don't know what to do!"

  He was clearly taken aback, and I surged ahead, almost panicked. "I want Ivy to bite me." I said. "It feels too damn good, and it would do both of us good. But the only way to do it safely is to sleep with her. And I'm not going to sleep with her just for the blood passion until I know what's going on in my head. I never thought I'd like a girl—I mean, I'm straight, right? Is it the vamp scar that's turning me on, or her? Do I love Ivy or just the way she can make me feel? There's a difference, Jenks, and I'm not going to cheapen it if it's only about the blood." I knew my face was red, but he deserved to hear it all. "Ivy made a pass at me because she knows I make decisions by doing stuff and then thinking about it, not the other way around. Well, I'm doing different stuff, and look how messed up everything got. Isn't this nice?" I said sarcastically, gesturing behind me at Ivy's empty place.

  Jenks's wings went still, and he sat down on edge of the fudge plate. "Maybe you should try it," he said, and a spike of adrenaline shot through me and was gone. "Just once," he coaxed. "Sometimes the quickest way to find out who you are is to be that person for a while."

  I'd thought of that already, and it scared me. Slowly I brought my eyes to his. "Then why are you upset that I bit Kisten?" I said. "That's me trying to be someone new. You think I would've done that a year ago? Why is it wrong when I try things with Kisten and not Ivy? "

  His gaze went to her empty spot at the table. "Because Ivy loves you."

  My gut tightened. "So does Kisten."

  Jenks brought his knees to his chin and clasped his hands around his shins. "Ivy would die for you, Rachel. Kisten won't. Put your emotions where they will keep you alive."

  It was a hard truth. Ugly. I didn't want to choose who I loved by who could keep me alive. I wanted to make decisions on who I loved by who completed me, made me feel good about myself. Who I could love freely and help make a better person by just being there. God, I was confused. Tired, I pillowed my head on my folded arms and stared at the table, inches from my nose. I heard the soft sound of wings, and the draft from Jenks stirred my hair.

  "It's all right, Rachel," he said, close and concerned. "She knows you love her."

  My throat closed, and I sighed. Maybe I should try it Ivy's way. At least as far as I could without becoming uncomfortable or freaked out. Just once. A moment of embarrassment would be better than all this confusion. And awkwardness. And misery.

  The small dinner bell at the front door rang, and I jumped. Jenks's face was full of hope when I brought my head up, then fear. If something had happened to Ivy, I wouldn't get a phone call but a stone-faced I.S. agent on my doorstep telling me my roommate was in the city morgue.

  "I got it," I said, the chair scraping as I rose. I hustled into the sanctuary, hoping it was Ivy with her stuff and needing someone to open the door for her.

  "I'm right behind you," Jenks said, sounding grim as he joined me in the hall.

  Twenty-one

  My stomach was in knots when I pushed open the heavy oak doors to find Ceri. Forcing a smile, I felt both relief and disappointment when I saw her beaming in the sun, her long, fair hair floating and a squishy wrapped present in her hands. She was wearing a summery, ankle-length linen dress and was barefoot—as usual. I wasn't surprised to see Rex, Jenks's cat, at her feet. The orange kitten was purring, rubbing her ankles.

  "Happy birthday!" the young-seeming woman said cheerfully.

  Jenks dropped three feet. "Crap, is that today?" he stammered, then zipped off.

  My distress that it wasn't Ivy faded. "Hi, Ceri," I said, flattered she had remembered. "You didn't have to get me anything!"

  She came inside and handed me the package. "It's from Keasley and me," she said in explanation, eager and flustered. "I've never gotten anyone a birthday present. Are you going to have a party?" Her face went solemn. "I wanted to have a party for Keasley, but he won't tell me when his birthday is, and I don't know what day I was born."

  My smile went bemused. "You forgot? "

  "My kin never celebrated a person's years, so the day I was born never meant anything. It was in the winter, though."

  I found myself nodding as I followed her in. She was from the Dark Ages. They didn't celebrate birthdays then. I seemed to remember that from a class.

  "Ivy made a cake," I said, feeling depressed. "But it's not frosted yet. Do you want some coffee and pastries instead?" May as well. Ivy isn't going to eat them with me.

  Stopping in the middle of the sanctuary, she turned, anticipation brightening her expression. "So you're going to have a party later?" she asked.

  "Probably not," I said, and when her shoulders slumped, I laughed. "Not everyone has a party, Ceri, unless they have stock in a card company."

  Her lips pursed. "Now you're making fun of me. Go on. Open your present."

  I could tell she wasn't really upset, so I opened the squishy package, tossing the paper into the trash basket under my desk. "Oh, thank you!" I exclaimed as I found a soft casual shirt made from brushed cotton. It was a vibrant red, almost glowing, and I could tell without trying it on that it would fit me perfectly.

  "Jenks said you needed a new shirt," she said shyly. "Do you like it? Is it suitable?" />
  "It's beautiful. Thank you," I said, feeling the richness of the fabric. It was a simple style, but the cloth was scrumptious and the neckline would flatter my small chest. She must have spent a fortune. "I love it," I said as I gave her a quick hug, then rocked into motion. "I should hang it up. Do you want some coffee?"

  "I'll make tea," she said, her gaze going to the empty spot where Ivy's stereo had been. Her steps soft behind mine, she hesitated at the door to my room upon catching sight of Trent's bridesmaid dresses and my newest party dress hanging from the back of the closet. "Oh!" she exclaimed. "When did you get that?"

  I beamed, finding an empty hanger and wrangling her shirt onto it. "Yesterday. I needed something for a run, and since it's a party, I bought something appropriate."

  Jenks's laugh rang out even before he was in sight. "Rache," he said as he landed on Ceri's shoulder, "you have some odd ideas of dress codes."

  "What?" I fingered the stiff black lace at the hem of the skirt. "It's a nice dress."

  "For a wedding rehearsal? It's in a church, right?" He screwed his face up in a pious look. "Spank me, Father, for I have sinned," he said in a falsetto.

  My eyes narrowed, and I hung up Ceri's gift. It was in the Basilica, actually. The Hollows' cathedral. "It's the party afterward I want to look nice for."

  Jenks snickered, and Ceri frowned. Her eyes were crinkled at the corners, but she didn't move, since Rex was twining about her feet, meowing for Jenks. "That's a nice dress," she said, and worry filled me at her forced tone. "It looks as if it will keep you cool and comfortable even if you are outside. And it's probably easy to run in."

  "Tink's knickers, I hope it doesn't rain," Jenks said sarcastically. "Everything you got will be on display."

  "Hush," Ceri admonished. "It's not going to rain."

  Crap. I should have waited until Kisten could shop with me. Suddenly worried, I unzipped the two silk garment bags. "These are the bridesmaids' dresses," I offered, wanting to get Jenks's attention off my new outfit before he saw the cherries painted on the jacket's snaps. "She hasn't picked which one yet," I said, touching the split skirt of the black lace dress. "I hope it's this one. The other is just ugly."

  "And you knows ugly when yous sees ugly, don't ya, sweet thang."

  I glared at Jenks. "Shut up. What are you wearing tonight, pixy?"

  Jenks's wings shifted into motion, and he rose from Ceri's shoulder. "My usual. Holy crap, tell me those aren't cherries?"

  I snatched up the hanger and shoved it into my closet. Why was I worried about what I was going to wear? I should be worried about the focus and who was killing Weres to find it. I wasn't ready to believe that Mr. Ray and Mrs. Sarong weren't responsible. And, realistically, it was only a matter of time before they called my bluff and came after me.

  Ceri was frowning at Jenks when I turned. Seeing my attention on her, she changed her severe, wordless admonishment to him to a worried smile for me. "I think it suits you," she said. "You will look… unique. And you are a unique person."

  "She's going to look like a forty-dollar hooker."

  "Jenks!" Ceri exclaimed, and he darted out of her reach to sit atop my dresser mirror.

  Depressed, I looked at my closet. "You know what? I'm going to wear the shirt you just gave me. With some jeans. And if I'm underdressed, I'll just add some jewelry to it."

  "Really? You want to wear the shirt I chose?" Ceri said, so brightly that I wondered if Jenks had coached her on what to buy to fit this situation. He looked far too smug, and Ceri's ears were as red as the shirt. My eyes narrowed in suspicion, and the slight woman turned her attention to the black lace bridesmaid gown, touching the fine fabric.

  "This is beautiful," she said. "Do you get to keep it after the wedding?"

  "Probably." I trailed my hands down the lace sleeves. They'd drape dramatically over my fingertips, and the built-in bodice would show off my waist. I'd never go to another function where I could wear anything so elegant, but just having it would be nice. It was slit up the side but cut so that it wouldn't give anything except brief glimpses.

  "The bitch hasn't decided which dress yet," I said sourly. "If she picks the other, I'm going to double my fee. Call it hazard pay. Look at it." I gestured disparagingly at the lace-hemmed collar that dipped so low it would make my small chest look nonexistent. "There are no curves at all. Just a straight tube all the way from my shoulders to the floor. I won't be able to run if I need to, much less dance unless I hike the thing up past my knees. And the lace?" I touched the outer covering trying to hide the ugly color of pea soup as if in shame, feeling the rough edges of the second-grade lace catch on my fingers. "It's going to catch on everything. I'll look like a freaking sea cucumber."

  That didn't get the expected smile, and when I met Jenks's eyes, he glanced at Ceri's softly creased brow and shrugged. Rex sat at her feet as though she might get some attention if she stared hard enough. "He's marrying a Were woman?" Ceri said, her voice unusually soft.

  "No. I was being rude." I shoved the green dress away, not wanting to talk about it.

  Jenks moved to the closet's shelf. "I've never met Ellasbeth, but she sounds more prickly than a porcupine's scab."

  Though icky, it was a pretty good description. "Nice visual, Jenks," I muttered.

  Ceri's thin fingers were tracing the tiny stitches on the black sleeve. I don't think she had even heard me, so enamored of the dress was she.

  "This one would be a pleasure to dance in. If she chooses the other, she is either an idiot or a sadist."

  "Sadist," Jenks said, his feet swinging. "I wish they made cameras I could carry. I know the Hollows Observer would pay good money for a shot of Rachel and Trent dancing."

  "Ha!" I barked, gently taking the pretty dress and putting it in my closet, newly organized thanks to Newt. "That will be the day."

  "You have to," Jenks said, the sparkles sifting from him turning silver. "It's the rules."

  I sighed. Yes, I was probably going to have to dance with him if I was in the wedding party. Ceri had a wicked smile on her face. "Well, I'm not going to enjoy it," I said, trying not to think about his tight ass and how he showed off a tux. My height looked good against his class, and it would be fun to get Ellasbeth's knickers in a knot. I shut my closet door, smiling. "Do you know how hard it is to slow-dance with a gun strapped to your thigh?"

  "No." Jenks followed me out to the kitchen, Ceri and the cat trailing behind.

  "Where's Ivy's computer?" Ceri asked when we entered, and I cringed.

  "I don't know." My stomach tightened as I looked at her empty corner. "I spent the night at Kisten's, and she wasn't here when I came home."

  Face still and empty, the elf looked up from the sink from where she was filling the copper kettle. Her gaze went from the pastries arranged on the plate to the store-bought coffee to the square of fudge. But it wasn't until she saw the honey that she figured it out. "She's gone," Ceri said, turning off the tap with excessive force. "What happened?"

  "Nothing," I said, feeling guilty and defensive. "Well, sort of nothing," I amended. "God, Ceri, this isn't any of your business," I added, crossing my arms over my chest.

  "She bit Kisten this morning," Jenks said helpfully. "While bumping uglies."

  "Hey!" I said, embarrassed, "That is not why she left. We hadn't even finished dinner before she walked out." Taking a breath, I faced Ceri, surprised to find her jaw set in disapproval. "He's my boyfriend!" I exclaimed. "And he didn't bite me. And why in hell does everyone think I should live my life by what Ivy wants? "

  "Because she loves you," Ceri said, standing beside the lit stove. "And you love her, as a friend if nothing else. She's afraid, and you're not. You're the stronger person in this situation and need to exert some restraint. You can't live your life by her wishes," she added, holding up a hand to forestall my protest. "But you know this is something she is aching to share with you."

  Miserable, I glanced at Ivy's empty spot and then back to Ceri. "She can't s
eparate blood passion from sex, and I don't think I can either," I whispered, wondering how my personal life had become everyone's favorite topic and why I was being so open about it. Apart from my being completely lost and trying to find anyone to help me.

  "Then you have a problem," Ceri said, turning her back on me to open a cupboard.

  I couldn't read her mood at all. "I never said I was good at this," I muttered. Getting up, I pulled a mug from the cupboard, but when I dropped a tea bag into it, her eyes narrowed.

  "Go sit and drink your foul coffee," she said, her voice harsh. "I'll make my own tea."

  Jenks snickered, and after I moved the plate with the honey and fudge to the table, I sat with my cold gourmet coffee. It had lost much of its appeal. Ceri's silent disapproval was obvious, but what was I supposed to do? I didn't like the idea that Ivy had left to move in with Skimmer without telling me, but it was the best explanation I had right now.

  Ceri brought the ceramic teapot out from under the counter. Throwing my tea bag away, she measured out two spoonfuls of loose tea. Jenks flitted to his honey and wrestled with the top until I opened it for him. Some birthday this was turning out to be.

  "Jenks?" I warned, my eyes going to Rex. The orange cat was sitting in the threshold of the kitchen, watching me with those creepy kitten eyes. I'd seen Jenks on honey; it got him drunker faster than a frat boy avoiding finals, and Rex liked little winged things too much for my comfort.

  "What!" he said belligerently. "You bought it for me."

  "Yes, but I was hoping you'd be sober this afternoon for our run."

  Snorting, Jenks settled himself before the jar brimming with the sticky amber. "Like I've ever been drunk for longer than five minutes?" Clearly eager, he pulled what looked like a set of chopsticks from his back pocket. Manipulating them expertly, he spindled a wad of the honey into his mouth. His wings drooped and stilled when he swallowed, and a giggle slipped from him. "Crap, this is good stuff," he said around a gooey mouthful.