by Ким Харрисон
"Hey, demon-ass!" Jenks shouted, and Al looked up.
A burst of pixy dust sifted down. Al screamed and went misty. Rynn's hands scrabbled on air, and when Al re-formed, he was hunched over, still rubbing at his eyes.
"Damn you to hell, you burning firefly!" the demon shouted.
Rynn gathered himself, and I sprang into motion. "Get out of the circle!" I shouted, grabbing the vampire's arm and swinging him into Ivy's desk with a crash. The heavy table remained standing, but the faint scent of broken technology mixed with the acidic smell of burnt amber and the rich tang of angry vampire.
The former world leader snarled at me when he found his balance. My face went cold, and I wondered if I'd fare better in the circle with Al.
"Rache!" Jenks shouted, clearly annoyed, and I slapped my hand down on the salt circle.
"Rhombus," I said with relief, and the connection to the ley line out back formed with a satisfying speed. Quicker than thought, a sheet of ever-after rose from the circle I had already scribed on the floor, made strong by my will and the salt I'd used.
Rynn skidded to a halt as the circle formed, his long coat unfurling to brush the impenetrable barrier. On the other side, Al pulled himself upright, howling. "I'll tear you apart!" he screamed, his eyes still watering from Jenks's dust. "Morgan, I'll kill you myself! I will not…You can't do this to me! Not again! You are just a stinking little witch!"
I fell back to sit on my butt, carefully pulling my feet to me so I wouldn't accidentally touch the bubble and send it crashing down. "Tag," I breathed heavily, looking around my demolished kitchen. Mr. Fish was quivering, but at least the fish—and Jenks's pumpkin under the table—had survived.
My jaw clenched in fear when I found Rynn Cormel. The vampire was completely flaked out, his pupils wide and his movements sharper and brighter than broken glass. He stood in the corner as far away from me as he could get, and I knew from living with Ivy that he was working hard to get control of his instincts. He held his coat closed, and the hem quivered as he fought his need to leap at me.
"Morgan!" Al raged, and reaching up, he pulled on the rack hanging overhead. Wood splintered and split, and I scrambled up with a gasp when the ceiling cracked, but it was the rack that broke, and stuff went everywhere, rolling until it found the interior of my circle and stopped. But he was contained, and as Al threw a temper tantrum, I worried more about Rynn.
"Are you okay, sir?" I said meekly.
The vampire brought his head up, and fear slid anew around my skull. His presence was thick in the room, his scent filling me inside and out. A tingling had started at my old demon scar, and I saw him swallow.
"Um, I'm going to open a window," I said, and when he nodded, I carefully got up.
Al threw himself at my circle, and I jumped, finding myself sweating when it held firm. "I'm going to kill you, witch," the demon said, panting as he stood before me, the rack broken and scattered over the interior of the circle. "I'm going to kill you, then mend you. I'm going to drive you insane. I'm going to make you beg for your death. I'm going to defile you, cut you from the inside out, put things in you that crawl around and burn your skull—"
"Will you shut up!" I interrupted him, and he howled, his face going red.
"You," I said to Rynn. "You just stay there, will you? I have to take care of this."
I didn't trust his silent posture, but he hadn't ruled the free world by lacking control.
"Mo-o-o-orga-a-a-an," Al crooned, and I turned from scooping up my scrying mirror.
My face lost its expression as I found him with one of my earth charm spell books. "Put that down," I demanded.
His eyes narrowed. "I may not have a lifetime of curses stored in me anymore," he said threateningly, "but I do know a few things by heart."
"Stop it," I said as he swiped an arm across the counter and everything went to the floor.
Jenks landed on my shoulder, sending the sharp scent of broken chlorophyll over me. "I don't like this, Rache," he whispered.
"I said, stop!" I exclaimed as Al sketched a rude pentagram and put my book in it.
"Celero inanio," he said, and I jumped when my charm book burst into flames.
"Hey!" I shouted, suddenly pissed. "Knock it off!"
Al's goat-slitted eyes narrowed. With a stiff motion, he dropped another book in its place. The thump of it reverberated through me. His gaze behind the sheet of black-stained ever-after was heavy with new hatred. I had bested him again. Me. A "stinking little witch."
I stared, thinking before I went with my first gut reaction of calling Minias. I could leave Al there to burn all my books, but with him in my circle, I'd know where he was and be safe that night. Or I could call Minias to drag Al's butt out of here and hope that no one summoned him again before the sun rose. But something in Al's angry expression made me pause.
Behind the fury, he was tired. He was tired of being hauled around and shoved into a little room. He was tired of trying for me and failing. And to have Minias know it, to be carted off under his leash…It was almost insulting. Maybe, if I gave Al a night of peace to lick his wounds and his pride, he would grant that same courtesy to me?
The moment hesitated. The kitchen was eerily silent without the noise from the clock, now broken on the floor. Al slowly straightened as he realized something was sifting through my brain, that I was considering just…letting him go. "Do you feel lucky, witch?" the demon growled, his lips pulling back from his teeth as he smiled. It was a dangerous smile that went right to my core. But the thing was, even though he could kill me, I wasn't scared of him anymore. As he had said, I had circled the bastard one too many times. He was tired. And by that comment earlier, maybe a little hungry for trust.
Al's eyes slid to the scrying mirror in my hand, and his gaze went introspective as he saw me weighing my options. "One night's truce?" he said inquiringly.
I bit my lip and listened to my pulse in my ears. "Get the hell out of here, Al," I said, not bothering to put any more direction behind it.
He blinked slowly. His features smoothed out, and a real smile curved over his face. "You're either really smart, or even more stupid than I thought," Al said, then vanished with a dramatic flair of red smoke.
"Rachel!" Jenks shouted, buzzing furiously in my face and shedding dust. "What the hell are you doing? He'll come right back!"
I took a slow breath and straightened. Scrying mirror in my grip, I carefully listened to the church, feeling the air for any sign of demons. My hand ached, and I flexed it, plucking a few of Al's hairs from under my fingernails in disgust. "Let it go, Jenks," I said. Something was shifting between Al and me—had shifted. I didn't know quite what, but I felt different. Maybe because I wasn't whining to Minias. Maybe me treating Al with more respect might just get me a little more respect from him. Maybe.
"You stupid witch!" Jenks was shouting. "Get your lily-white ass on holy ground. He's going to come back!"
"Not tonight he won't." The adrenaline crashed, and I found my knees shaking. My gaze slid to Rynn Cormel, standing in the corner trying to control himself, and I took another even breath to try to slow my pulse and not smell so tempting. The vampire still hadn't moved, but he was starting to look more human. Tired, I slid the scrying mirror back where it belonged between my three untouched demon books. Al had burned a mundane earth charm book.
Rynn took a step forward, jerking to a halt when Jenks got between us and buzzed a warning. The vampire was disgusted. "You let him go," the man said. "With no compulsion. You do deal in demons."
The coffee was done, and I crossed the room, trailing my trembling fingers through the plane of the bubble to break it as I passed. I settled against the counter where I could see both the man and the arch to the hallway. Taking a steadying breath, I poured a cup of coffee, and after asking Rynn Cormel with a gesture if he wanted any, I took a sip.
"I don't deal in demons," I said when the first of it slipped down my throat. "They deal in me. Thanks for trying to help, b
ut Jenks and I had it under control." I didn't want him thinking I needed his protection. Vampire protection came at a cost—one I wasn't going to pay.
Rynn Cormel's eyebrows rose. "Had it under control? I saved your life."
Jenks huffed. "Saved our lives? Your hairy ass! Rachel was the one that saved yours. She circled him." The pixy turned to me, missing Rynn's dark expression. "Rache," he fussed. "Get on holy ground. He might come back."
I frowned at him while my free hand prodded my ribs for a possible bruise. "I'm fine. Take a chill pill before you set your dust on fire." The pixy sputtered, and I looked at the master vampire. "Do you want to sit down?"
Jenks made a burst of frustrated noise. "I'm going to check on my kids," he muttered, then darted out.
Rynn Cormel watched him leave. He gauged my fatigue, then eased across the room to sit in Ivy's chair before her cracked monitor. There was a long, bloodless scratch on his cheek, and his hair was mussed. "He was burning your books," he said, as if it was important to him.
I glanced at the pentagram Al had sketched on my counter and the second book sitting in a pile of ash. "He wanted out," I said. "He was burning my books because he was pissed I was going to call another demon to put him in custody. I'm hoping that because I gave him a night of peace he will give me the same." God help me. I'm trusting a demon to make a moral decision based on respect?
The vampire's expression shifted to understanding. "Ah-h-h-h-h. You chose the harder, riskier path, but by doing so, it told him you weren't going to rely on another for your safety. That you don't fear him." His head tilted. "You should, you know."
I nodded. I should fear Al. I did. But not tonight. Not after seeing him…disheartened. If he was depressed that a stinking little witch kept evading him, then maybe he should stop treating me like a stinking little witch and treat me with some respect.
Deciding Rynn Cormel was fully in control of himself, my shoulders started to relax. "So what did you want to talk to me about?"
He allowed himself a slow, charismatic smile. I was alone with Rynn Cormel, politician extraordinaire, master vampire, and once ruler of the free world. I pulled the sugar closer to the coffee. I was starting to shake, and I was going to blame it on low blood sugar. Yeah, that was it.
"You sure you don't want some coffee?" I said, ladling in a third spoonful of sugar. "It's fresh."
"No. No, thank you," he said, then winced, looking utterly charming. "Ah, I find I'm in the position of being embarrassed," he said, and I caught back my snort. "I came here to assure myself that you were well after your demon attack yesterday, and I see that not only are you fine, but that you're fully capable of protecting yourself. Ivy was not overestimating your skill. I owe her an apology."
Smiling faintly, I pushed the sugar away. It was nice to hear a compliment once in a while. But undead vampires don't get embarrassed. He was a young, sweet-talking, very experienced master vampire, and I watched his nostrils expand as he breathed in Ivy's and my mingled scents.
The vampire shook his head in a very human gesture. "The woman has a will like no other," he said, and I knew he was talking about Ivy besting her instinct to bite me. It was hard when we lived together like this.
"Tell me about it," I said, all of my awe from sitting in my kitchen with Rynn Cormel washed away by the panic of fighting for my life. "I think she uses me to test herself."
Rynn Cormel's gaze came back from Mr. Fish. "Is that so?"
The questioning tone in his voice made me nervous, and I watched him catalog the mixing of Ivy's life and mine. Standing straighter, I gestured with my coffee mug. "What can I do for you, Mr. Cormel?"
"Rynn, please," he said, flashing me one of his famous smiles that had helped save the free world. "I think after that, we should be on a first-name basis."
"Rynn," I said cautiously, thinking this was really weird. I took a sip of coffee and eyed him over it. If I didn't already know he was dead, I'd never have guessed he wasn't alive. "Don't take this the wrong way, but why do you care if I'm okay or not?"
His smile widened. "You're part of my camarilla, and I take my duties seriously."
I suddenly wished Jenks was here. A spike of fear plinked through me, and I became very interested in the whereabouts of my splat gun. Rynn wasn't living, but the sleepy-time charm would drop him as fast as anyone else. "I won't let you bite me," I said, the threat in my voice clear as I forced myself to take another drink of coffee. The bitter smell seemed to help.
Other than his pupils dilating, he hid the effect my fear had on him. I was impressed.
"I'm not here to bite you," he said, pushing his chair back away from me an inch or so. "I'm here to keep anyone else from doing so."
I watched him suspiciously and uncrossed my ankles—getting ready to move if I had to. He had told Al that I belonged to him. Tried to save me from Al because of that. "But you consider me part of your camarilla," I said, not dumb enough to tell him I didn't want his help just yet. "Don't you bite everyone in it?"
At that, he relaxed, leaning forward to push Ivy's keyboard out of the way and put his elbows on the table. An eager light filled him, and I marveled at how alive and excited he looked. "I don't know. I've never had one," he explained, his dark eyes fixed earnestly on mine. "And I've been told I'm charmingly eager in my efforts to start one. A politician can't—it doesn't make for a fair race."
Shrugging, he leaned back, looking very attractive, confident, and young. "And when the chance arose for me to prevent Piscary's children from being scattered, to take his well-structured, happy camarilla as my own and assert a claim on you and Ivy?" He hesitated, his attention traveling over my demolished kitchen. "It made my decision to retire very easy."
My mouth went dry. He had retired to get closer to Ivy and me?
Rynn Cormel's gaze returned to me. "I came here tonight to make sure you were intact, which I can see you are. Ivy said you were capable of protecting yourself, but I assumed her assurances were simply another one of her ways to keep me from meeting you."
I glanced at the empty hall, things starting to fall into place. "That run of hers tonight was fake, wasn't it," I asked, but it wasn't a question.
The vampire smiled, bringing a leg up to rest a foot on his knee. He looked really good sitting there in my kitchen. "I'm pleased Ivy was telling me the truth. I'm suitably impressed. You've been bitten more times than your skin shows."
Again I felt uncomfortable, but I wouldn't cover my neck. That was an invitation to look.
"You have very beautiful skin," he added, and I felt a dropping sensation, quickly followed by a tingling surge.
Damn it, I thought, reining in my emotions. I knew my skin—less than a year old and hiding an unclaimed vampire bite—was like a steak dangling in front of a wolf. Unless the wolf was very well fed, he was going to go for it.
"I'm sorry," he apologized, his voice a wisp of hollow sound. "I didn't mean to make you uneasy."
Yes, you did, I thought, but I didn't say it aloud. I pushed from the counter, needing the false security of more space between us. "Are you sure you don't want some coffee?" I asked, going to the pot to intentionally turn my back on him. I was afraid, but if I wasn't obvious about it, he'd back off.
"I'm in Cincinnati because of you," he said. "Piscary's children owe you thanks for their well-being. I thought you should know that."
My lips pressed tight, and with my arms wrapped about myself, I spun to him, ready for it. The chitchat was over.
"I heard about you and Ivy living together in this church and what she wants from you," he said, and my face flamed. "If you can save her soul after her first death," he continued, "it would be the most significant advance in vampire history since the live-video feed."
Oh…that. I hesitated, embarrassed. This was not what I had expected.
The master vampire smiled. "Lacking a soul is why most vampires don't continue past their thirty-year death anniversary," he explained. "By then, the people who loved them and
have been giving them blood are either undead as well or simply dead. Blood from someone who doesn't love you is a thin meal, and without a soul, an undead vampire has a difficult time convincing anyone that he or she loves them. It makes it hard to form an emotional bond that is real and not contrived." He shifted, the scent of vampiric incense coming clear to me. "It can be done, but it takes a lot of finesse."
Somehow, I didn't think Rynn Cormel had that problem. "So if I can save Ivy's soul…," I prompted, not liking where this was going.
"It will allow the undead to continue to form auratic bonds with new people, extending their undead existence forever."
I leaned against the counter and crossed my ankles. Sipping my coffee, I thought that over, remembering that when Ivy had bitten me she had taken a portion of my aura along with my blood. The theory went along nicely with my private theory that an undead vampire needs the illusion of a soul or aura about it or the brain will realize it is dead and drive the vampire into the sun to kill it, thus bringing the mind, the body, and the soul back into balance.
"I'm sorry," I said, thinking that the pope would have a coronary at my thoughts. "It can't be done. I don't know how to save Ivy's soul when she dies. I just don't."
Rynn Cormel's gaze roved over the scattered herbs crushed underfoot, and I warmed, wondering if he knew I'd been experimenting with ways to safely curb Ivy's blood lust.
"You're the one who broke the balance of power between the vampires and the Weres," he accused so very softly, and I felt cold. "You found the focus," he continued, and my pulse quickened.
"My boyfriend—my ex-boyfriend—did that."
"Semantics," he said, waving a hand. "You brought it into the light."
"And I buried it."
"In a Were's body," he exclaimed, showing a hint of anger.
It might have been to cow me, but it had the opposite effect. Hell, I had already bound a demon tonight. I was on top of the world. "If you touch David…," I said, setting my cup aside.
But Rynn Cormel only raised his eyebrows, his anger disappearing at the amusement he found in my threats. "Don't try to bully me, Rachel. It makes you look foolish. I'm saying you broke the balance. The artifact is out. Power is shifting. Slowly, with the gentle pace of generations, but it will shift to the Weres."
