by Ким Харрисон
"Oh, God!" I moaned, falling back into the warmth of where I had been sleeping. "I'm so sorry."
Marshal had his head down as he adjusted his socks. "For what?"
I gestured to the stained-glass windows past the gently swaying bats. "It's seven."
"I don't have to be anywhere. Do you?"
Uh, not until later. My swirling thoughts slowed. I didn't feel that good, seeing as I still had a chunk of sleep waiting for me somewhere, and I scooted myself up a bit so I wasn't so…schlumpy looking.
"Hey, you, ah, want to crash here for the rest of the morning?" I asked, staring at the happy puppets on the TV. Must be a human thing to watch puppets at this hour, because it sure as hell wasn't appealing to a witch. "We have a couch in the back living room. It's darker in there."
Marshal pressed his lips together and shook his head. "No, thanks. I didn't mean to wake you. I was going to leave you a note and slip out. I've been on a human clock for three years. I'm usually up by now."
My face twisted as I imagined that. "I'm not," I complained. "I've got to get to bed."
He smiled as he gathered the empty bottles to take to the kitchen, and I yawned. "Don't bother," I said. "I'll take care of them. If I don't rinse them out, the rani of recycling yells at me."
Smiling, he pulled his hands away and stood, leaving them where they were. "I have to check a few more apartments this morning, but I'll burn through my list in a few hours. You want to get together later?"
A spike of anticipation rose through me, dulled by my sleepy state, but I couldn't help but wonder where this was going. Last night with Marshal had been fun. Comfortable. True to what he had said earlier about wanting a break from a girlfriend, we just sat around and watched TV. I had brought all my runner instincts to bear on him, and though it would be stupid to think that he might not be interested in more later, right now, he just seemed to appreciate the company. God knew I did.
"Sure," I said, carefully, "but David's run out to that witch's house comes first." I was reluctant to move, feeling rumpled and ill from the early hour. I'd thought it had been odd when he'd fallen asleep in his chair at midnight, right during the news, but if he'd been running on a human clock, that would be late for him.
I had intended to let Marshal sleep through the late movie and then wake him, seeing as it was nice having company without having to worry about triggering any blood lust attacks when I got excited in a chase scene. Falling asleep during the slow spots had never crossed my mind. But someone had turned the volume down, so he'd probably woken up at some point and let me keep sleeping. That was nice.
"You need any help? At the house I mean?" Marshal asked, and I smiled up at him.
"Nope."
"Then I'll get out of here," he said, then dropped down to crouch before me. He was way too close, and I drew back with my eyes wide.
"You're funny," he said as he got on his hands and knees and peered under the couch. "I'm not going to kiss you. You're too much trouble to be my girlfriend. Too high-maintenance. My boots are under there."
I grinned in embarrassment as he came up with his boots.
The click of the front door opening shot through me. Marshal got to his feet and turned in one smooth motion, and I bolted upright.
"Ivy?" I called, recognizing the sound of her boots clacking.
Her path ruler-straight and her face placid, she walked past Marshal and me. "'Morning," she said, no clue to her mood in her voice as she vanished into the darkness of the hall. The collar to her jacket was up, and I think she'd been bitten in an intentionally obvious place. My thoughts jerked back to Rynn Cormel, and a feeling of anger burned. He had taken her last night, making his claim in an obvious, indisputable way. I'd known it was coming, and Ivy said it was expected, but it still seemed degrading to me.
Marshal shifted uneasily, and my attention returned to him. He was standing over me, and I suddenly realized what it must have looked like to Ivy. He hadn't been there to give me a kiss, but he had been in the right place for it.
Ivy slammed a kitchen cupboard door shut, and Marshal jumped.
"I'd, ah, better go."
I pulled the afghan up around my shoulders as he started for the front door. Stretching to feel every ache the couch had put in me, I followed him. The pixies were loud outside, and the shadows of their wings showed where they were clearing spiderwebs off the outside panes to help deter fairies from trying to take up residence. My balance bobbled as I came around the coffee table, and Marshal caught my elbow. "Thanks," I mumbled, looking up his considerable height. I didn't like how awkward the early hour had made me, but he looked fine, standing there in his rumpled shirt and lightly stubbled face.
"Kinda klutzy in the morning, eh?" he said, then let go of my elbow when Ivy's boots clattered in the hallway. He stepped back, and I tried not to frown at Ivy. She had Marshal's coat from the kitchen, and she draped it over my swivel desk chair. "Do you want some coffee before you go?" she asked, sounding sincere, but the coat said different.
Marshal cracked his neck, his gaze sliding to his coat before returning to Ivy, who was framed by the hallway opening, her hip cocked, looking predatory in her sleek leather pants and coat. "No, thanks. I have an appointment. See you later, Ivy."
He pulled his coat from the chair, and as it slowly spun, I followed him to the door. Fatigue made my feet heavy, and I yawned, trying to wake up. God, I must look terrible.
"'Bye, Marshal," Ivy said, still unmoving. Her face was empty, telling me she wasn't happy. I gave her a pointed look when Marshal paused to put on his boots, and finally showing her ire, she turned and left.
Immediately my tension eased in the dim gray of the foyer. "Don't mind her," I said as Marshal laced his boots up. "She likes you."
"Could have fooled me," he said as he tugged his coat on and the scent of oil, gas, and redwood came to me. "Thanks for last night. I didn't want to sit in my hotel room, and I'm too old for the bar scene. I feel like I'm using you to keep from being alone."
A smile came over me, sort of sad but happy as well. "Yeah, me, too." I hesitated, not wanting to sound pushy, but it had felt good not to be alone. "So, I'll call you later this afternoon when I know my schedule?"
He took a deep breath, exhaling quickly as he gathered his thoughts. "Not if I call you first." Smiling, he opened the door and stepped out onto the stoop. "'Bye, Rachel."
"'Bye," I called after him. I slumped until my back hit the door frame, giving him an unsure smile when he looked up from the sidewalk with his keys in hand. His boots were almost soundless on the walk, and I watched him as the cooler air slipped in to make my ankles chill and a stray curl dance before my eyes. I hoped this wasn't a mistake. I'd had guy friends before, but it usually slipped into something else before it ended.
The human neighbor down the street drove past in his minivan, and when he slowed to check Marshal out, I ducked back inside. Seven o'clock. What was I doing up at seven o'clock? This was a stupid-ass hour to be up.
But I felt good. Sort of melancholy, but good.
The darkness of the foyer was comforting, and I wrapped my arms around my middle as I went back into the sanctuary, grabbing the bowl and bottles on my way to the kitchen. Ivy was in there, and I wanted to know if Rynn Cormel, the charismatic world leader, had taken advantage of my roommate and bitten her.
Squinting at the brighter light and feeling the early hour all the way to my bones, I rinsed the empty pop bottles before dropping them into the recycling bin and slumped into my chair with the last of the popcorn. Ivy was still wearing her coat, sitting poised at her computer and checking e-mail before bed. An open box of flavored cereal was by her keyboard and she chewed slowly. Leaning, I tried to catch a look at her neck, and she jerked back so I couldn't.
"He seems nice," she said, her face emotionless, but I could hear a hint of annoyance.
"He is," I said defensively. "It's nice of you to pretend to like him, by the way. Thanks."
The corners of
her eyes tightened. "What makes you think I don't like him?"
Oh, that is just stupid. "Because you never like anyone who pays attention to me," I said, feeling my pulse quicken, angry that she would try to bullshit me.
"I liked Kisten," she said bitterly.
Emotion welled, and I got even more angry that she'd try to make me feel guilty for wanting to move past his death. I tugged the afghan closer, ticked. "The only reason you liked him was because he got me to loosen up and sleep with a vamp," I said sullenly.
"That's part of it," she said mildly.
"And because you knew he was never a real threat," I added. "That if push came to shove, Kisten would back off. You used him."
Ivy stiffened. Her fingers danced over the keys until she hit "send" with an excessive amount of force. "That, too," she admitted softly—irritated. "But I. Also. Loved. Him."
Suddenly I understood what this was about. Leaning back in my chair, I crossed my arms over my chest. "Spending time with Marshal is not betraying Kisten's memory. Don't you dare think badly of me for that. He's just a guy, not my boyfriend. Ivy, you just spent the night with Rynn Cormel. Got a new scar?" I mocked.
I leaned forward to shift her collar, and her arm flashed to intercept me. Her arm met mine in a soft but certain whap, and I jerked back, surprised.
"He's my master," she said, her eyes dilating. "It's expected."
But she had turned, and there was a new, carefully given, red-rimmed bite. Something unexpected clenched in me, and Ivy's pale complexion turned a soft blush. Damn it.
"Expected, hell. I know you enjoyed yourself," I said hotly. "You enjoyed it, and there's nothing wrong with that, but if you feel guilty about it, don't take it out on me."
Ivy's long hand trembled. My heart gave a hard thump as she pushed from her computer and focused entirely on me in a familiar mix of anger and the sexual domination she used to protect herself. I met her angry expression with my glare, and a twinge came from my neck. I ignored it. The tips of her gold-highlighted hair shifted with her breath, and a feeling of unease rose behind me, like the creepy-crawly things that live under the bed that only kids know are there. The hair on the back of my neck prickled, and my jaw clenched as I fought the urge to turn. She was pulling a vampiric aura. She hadn't done that in almost a year. My own eyes narrowed in anger even as I shuddered and my palms itched. Maybe it was time to remind her that this witch had teeth, too.
"He's protecting me," she said, her low voice swirling like gray silk. "Protecting us."
"Yeah," I said sarcastically. "So he tells me. We're his freaking science experiment." Ticked, I stood. If she was pulling an aura, it was time to leave. And I didn't like the waves of sensation that pulsed down my neck and promised more. "My life is so messed up," I said. I headed for the hallway. I had to get away from everything. Everything. "He's just another dead vamp sucking on your neck," I muttered, feeling every muscle tighten as I passed her.
"And that bothers you?" Ivy said loudly.
I turned before I reached the hallway. Ivy had spun in her chair to face me, her legs still crossed at the knees and her working leathers making her look coy and sleek. Her eyes were black and full. A sudden surge from my scar spilled down my side to pool in my middle, warm and breath stealing. I stiffened, shoving the sensation away. "He's using you!" I said, gesturing angrily. "God, Ivy, don't you get it? He doesn't love you. He can't!"
Ivy gave me a knowing look. Goading. Arching her eyebrows in silent challenge, she succinctly placed a Cheerio in her mouth and crunched through it. "Everyone uses people. You don't think Marshal's using you? That you're not using him to feel safe in the narrow acceptance of your wants?"
"Excuse me?" I barked. "This is about me liking guys and not sleeping with you, isn't it!" I said, and she made a mockingly surprised face. "Damn it, Ivy, I'm going to sleep with who I want, when I want. I want to find a blood balance with you, but your ultimatum of my-way-or-no-way isn't going to wash. I'm not going to sleep with you just to make this work, and I'm busting my ass trying to find a way to tone your blood lust down so you don't lose control and we can at least share something!"
Ivy set the cereal box down with a sharp tap. "I'm not going to chemically neuter myself so you can continue to hide from who you are."
I almost choked on my outrage. "You've never even tried one, have you!" I sputtered, opening up my charm cupboard to show the slew of uninvoked potions I had been working on. "What did you do with the ones I gave you!" I exclaimed.
Ivy lifted her chin, the rims of brown about her pupils shrinking. "Flushed them."
She was completely unrepentant, and I shook with anger. "You threw them out!" I yelled, furious. "Do you know how long it took me to make them? Did you not see the hours I put into modifying them so you'd be in control and could separate your blood lust from love? How can you know what it will do if you don't try it once!"
Ivy closed the cover of the cereal box and stood, pointing one long pianist's finger at me. "How do you know you won't like sleeping with me if you don't try it—once?" she mocked, every word clear and precise.
It was as if her words took the last of my reason. Tugging the afghan up, I got in her face, pissed that I had to look up at her in her boots. "You are not in charge of me," I said, neck flaming, but I was so mad it didn't mean anything. "I am my own person. Don't you ever forget it! And right now, I'd rather sleep with Trent than you!"
I turned to leave, gasping when she yanked me back into the room. Adrenaline sang as the world spun, and I found my back against the island counter. A pulse of fear dropped deep, igniting my soul, bringing me alive. Ivy's eyes were black. They were utterly, beautifully black, and they pinned me where I stood. From my scar came a surge that made my knees threaten to give way. I couldn't look from her eyes, and I tried to figure out what had happened. I was…I had been arguing with Ivy. Stupid vamp? No, stupid witch.
Suddenly stone cold sober, I stared at her. I wanted her to bite me, but not until I knew she could handle it. Or perhaps more accurately, until I knew I could. And there was the ultimatum that she had thrown down last year: all or nothing. Sex and blood both. Nuh-uh. Not like this.
"Back off," I said as I gave her a shove to get her out of my way. "I'm not doing this."
Moving with a provocative slowness, Ivy put her hand on my shoulder and pushed me back, her grip tightening to slow my backward motion until I hit the counter again. A tingling of sparkles lit through my old vampire scar, sending a twin pulse to ignite the one she had given me just this spring. Shit.
"I said I'm not doing this," I said, ticked and scared all at the same time. "Ivy, I didn't start this, and I'm not going to sleep with you to share blood. Get out of my way."
"I started this, and you don't have to sleep with me to share blood," she said, utterly still.
I froze. I don't have to sleep with her? My gaze rose to meet the faultless black her eyes now were, and she smiled, showing a slip of teeth.
"What do you think Rynn Cormel and I have been doing together for the last two months?" she said softly.
My gaze darted to her new scar and rose to her eyes. A shiver iced through me, between thought and action. She can separate the two? "I thought…," I stammered, then mentally kicked myself. Rynn Cormel wanted us to succeed in this. Of course he'd be helping her learn to take blood without mixing it with sex, breaking old habits. My lips parted. New angle, he said. Not a sexual position, but a new tack? To help her find control?
Again my attention went to her new bite, now clearly visible as a badge of honor. Of success, maybe? Almost as if she'd heard my thoughts, Ivy leaned closer. "Yes," she said distinctly, hitting the S with a sharp sound. "We've been practicing all month, and this morning, I did it. No charms, no drugs, nothing. It was the most frustrating thing I've ever done. It left one part of me satisfied, and the other…achingly empty."
I blinked fast to try to gain an understanding of what that meant. Everything shifted, and I held my breath as I bec
ame afraid for another reason. It was too easy for me to become drunk on sensation and do something that I'd hate myself in the morning for. But this was something we both wanted. How could it be wrong?
Ivy tilted her head and, smiling, sent her sin-black eyes to drop languorously to my neck, making her intentions clear. Desire pinged through me, and I shuddered, knowing I was lost. Or found. About to be broken, or made whole. Inches away, Ivy pulled in my scent as she closed her eyes, bringing herself to a higher pitch, driving herself crazy with denial even as I stood in front of her. "I can do this, Rachel."
I wanted this. I wanted to feel good. I wanted the closeness with Ivy I knew a bite would bring. I wanted to push away the pain we both felt from Kisten's death with something real. And there was no reason not to.
I shuddered at the barest touch of her fingertip as she brushed the afghan from my shoulders and it pooled at my feet. A shiver took me, born from the cooler air hitting my skin and the heat she was pulling from my core. Vampire incense filled me on a slow intake of breath; it rolled in my soul, flashing up to make her light touch feel like electricity.
"Wait," I said, self-preservation stronger than the remembered ecstasy she could fill me with, a millennium-old payment that evolution had gifted us in return for freely giving what a vampire's soul needed to survive.
And she waited.
My eyes closed. I could feel her breath against my skin, the heat from her body against mine though air stood between us, and the tension making the air tingle against me. I weighed her obvious desire against her slow movements and the fact that she had stopped when I asked. I had to be certain. She said she could do this, but I didn't want to make another stupid mistake. Could she do it? Could I? My eyes opened. "Are you sure?" I asked, searching her expression.
She leaned closer, her lips parting to say something, but then her brow furrowed and she stiffened. Dropping her grip on my shoulder, she spun. The clatter of pixy wings shattered the silence.
