The Outlaw Demon Wails th-6

by Ким Харрисон

  "Rachel," Ivy said, and my attention jerked to her. She was a vampire. I had fallen, and I'd never felt my face hit the dirt. Terror made me scrabble upright and move until I found a corner, hand on my neck to hide my blood from her. I had been bound. I belonged to someone.

  Ivy's eyes were black at my fear. Chest rising and falling, she held her fists at her sides. "Rachel, it's okay," she said, her voice low and throaty. "You haven't been bound. I could tell."

  She took a step forward, and I flung out a hand. "Stop!"

  "I can tell, damn it!" she shouted, then lowered her voice. "I'm not going to bite you. Look at me. I'm not that vampire. Rachel, you are not bound."

  Fear spun liquid fibers through me like a spider's web, and I tried to control it. Beneath my fingers, my pulse hammered. It was just Ivy. But she took a step forward, and my will shattered.

  "I said stop!" I shouted, pressing into the corner. She shook her head grimly as she took a slow, careful step forward.

  "Stop! Stop, or I'll hurt you!" I demanded, almost hysterical. I had let go of the line, but I could find it. I could hurt her with it. I had tried to hurt Kisten's killer, and the vampire had bound me. Bound me so I would come crawling, begging to be bled. God help me, I was someone's shadow.

  Ivy's hand shook and tears coursed down her perfect face as she reached out and set her fingers upon my shoulder. Her scent poured over me, and her touch reached deeper than my broken memory until it struck the core of my being. My terror dissolved like a filmy gauze. It was Ivy. It was just Ivy, not my unknown tormentor. She wasn't trying to kill me. It was just Ivy.

  I started to cry. Huge racking sobs shook me. Kisten's murderer had bound me. They would crook their finger, and I would beg, writhe for it. I had fallen, and I never even saw the hole. I was so stupid. I had been playing with vampires. I thought I could keep myself safe, but it was all for nothing now. I hadn't wanted this, but it had happened.

  "Rachel, you are not bound!" Ivy said, giving me a small shake. "If you were I could smell it, I could tell. Kisten's killer might have tried, but it didn't take. I would sense it, if it did. Listen to me! You're okay!"

  My breath caught, and I tried to stop crying. "I'm not bound?" I said, tasting the salt of my tears as I looked up. "Are you sure?" Please, God. Give me a second chance. I promise. I promise I'll be good.

  There was a soft hush of sound as Ivy put her arms around me, pulling me into her and rocking me as if I were a child as we stood in our blue-lit kitchen. "You are not bound," Ivy whispered, and I wept tears of relief into her shoulder as I started to believe. "But I'll find out who did this to you, and then I'll make that bastard beg for your forgiveness."

  I pinned everything on her soft gray-silk voice pulling me back from the brink. The surety and hot anger in her cut through my confusion. I wasn't alone. Ivy was going to help me. She said I wasn't bound. I had to believe that. Gratitude flowed, and every muscle seemed to relax. Ivy felt it and stopped rocking me.

  Suddenly I realized I was standing in my kitchen with Ivy's arms around me. Her pull on my unclaimed scars was gone, and here I was, feeling her warmth, her strength, her determination to protect me. I looked up to find her brown eyes swimming, inches from mine. There was a shared pain in them, as if only now was I able to even begin to understand her.

  I licked my lips, trying to figure out what I was feeling. "Thank you," I said, and her pupils widened in a flash. A shocking spark dove to my middle.

  There was the clatter of pixy wings, and we both looked to the hallway as Jenks flew in.

  "I'm sorry," he gasped, struggling with a full vial. "Am I too late?"

  My gaze rose to the open charm cupboard, and then to the vial in Jenks's unsteady grip. From the front of the church came the sound of Keasley's voice raised in worry. "Rachel? Are you okay?"

  I reached out to stop him. "Jenks, no!" I cried, guessing Keasley had primed the spell, but Ivy had looked up, and Jenks did a smart backflip.

  Ivy got the potion full in the face. Her eyes went unfocused, and as smooth and sweet as fresh laundry snapping on a line, she dropped.

  Scrambling, I caught her shoulders and eased her down. Jenks had swiped one of the pacification potions we were experimenting with. But she wasn't supposed to go unconscious. It was far too strong.

  Jenks got between us, wings a blur as he hovered by her slack-featured face. Her new bite looked livid, and I thought of mine, feeling what might be shame for the first time. God, I couldn't do this anymore. I had risked everything. There had to be a better way.

  "She's out. She's breathing," Jenks said, and I took a relieved breath. Modifying charms was chancy at best, and I could have stopped Ivy's heart.

  "It's too strong," I said, glad none of it had hit me. "She's not supposed to go unconscious." Remembering Keasley, I stood to find him standing in the doorway, awkward and unsure in his thin brown pajamas. "You okay?" I asked him.

  "I'm not the one with the vamp bite," he said, eyes on my neck, and I refused to cover it. "Jenks said your roommate lost it."

  The memory of the last ten minutes smacked me, and I started to waver. I thought I had been bound to Kisten's killer. I had…I could have been bound to Kisten's killer. "I don't feel so good," I said, my blood dropping to my knees. Dizzy, I took a breath, my muscles going slack and my body starting to slip. I stared at the floor, numb.

  "Ho there!" Keasley exclaimed, and then his thin arms were suddenly around me and he was struggling to get me to the floor without bending his knees.

  "I'm okay," I mumbled, clearly not as my legs went akimbo. "I'm okay." Blinking, I sat against the sink cabinets beside Ivy and dropped my head between my knees to keep from passing out. "Jenks," I breathed, and he was on the floor between my feet, looking up.

  "She bit you!" he said, silver sparkles mixing with the spots of oblivion making a bid for my consciousness. "I told you she wasn't ready. Why doesn't anyone listen to me!"

  "Yeah, she bit me," I said as things started to fall into place. "I freaking wanted her to, and it's none of your damn business—you little winged liar." His wings clattered in anger, but his words died in his throat when he saw my expression. He flew up, suddenly unsure, and I lifted my head, following him.

  "Kisten's murderer bit me, too," I said, and he paled, flying up to the counter and out of my reach. "I remembered it," I said, finding the strength to sit up at his show of guilt. "The vampire tried to bind me, and I think you knew it. Start talking, pixy." I can't do this anymore. I'm playing with fire, and I have to stop.

  In a burst of sparkles, Jenks darted away. Keasley's sneakers on his bare feet moved uneasily, and I stood up, angry and almost out of my mind with frustration. Seeing Ivy on the floor, I gritted my teeth and refused to cry. I was so messed up. My hand gripped my right shoulder until it hurt, the memory of Kisten's death heavy on me. This isn't fair. This is bloody-hell not fair!

  "You were there, Jenks," I said as I wiped my face to get the hair out of my eyes. "You said you were with me all night. Who bit me? Who gave me the forget potion!" I looked at Keasley, betrayal an angry lump in my gut. "Was it you?" I barked, and the old man shook his head, so sadly that I believed him.

  "Rache," Jenks stammered, pulling my attention to him as he backed up on the counter. "Don't. You were crazy. You were going to hurt yourself. If I hadn't, you'd be dead."

  My lips parted, and I tried to breathe. Jenks had given me the potion?

  I felt like I was going to pass out again. Reaching behind me, I tipped my dissolution vat of salt water over Ivy. Keasley shifted his faded sneakers as it poured over the counter and onto the floor, drenching her. I didn't take my eyes from Jenks as she came to, sputtering.

  "You were there," I repeated to bring Ivy up to speed as she scrambled up behind me. "You said you were with me all night. You were there when Kisten's murderer bit me. Tell me who did it!" I screamed, my throat hurting.

  My pulse was fast as I stood over Jenks. I was mad. Scared. Terrified he would tell m
e it had been Ivy. Maybe I was bound, and she couldn't smell it because it had been her. Was that why I had said yes to her today?

  Oh, God. Please, no.

  Jenks's wings were a blur, but he didn't move, his attention going from me to Ivy as we took three steps to loom over him. My socks were soaked with salt water, and I could hear Ivy's frustration and anger that my magic had dropped her. But Jenks had taken her out, not me.

  "I don't know!" he yelped when Ivy smacked a hand on the stainless-steel counter and a splash of salt water hit his wing. "Kisten was dead, really dead, when I caught up with you," he said, shamefaced. "I never saw his murderer. Rachel, I'm sorry. I didn't know what to do. You were crying. Acting crazy. You said Kisten had bitten his murderer, mixed their undead blood to kill them both for good."

  Ivy groaned and turned away, and I touched her shoulder, not looking from Jenks.

  "But it didn't work," Jenks said, gaze darting between us, "'cause Kisten hadn't been dead long enough, so only Kisten died right away. You were going to go after the bastard to make sure he was dead. Rache, you wouldn't have survived, even if the vampire was almost dead. You'd been bitten. You can't stand up to a dead vampire. You can't."

  My jaw clenched, and I closed my eyes, trying to remember as Ivy shook silently beside me. Nothing. Only stark fear and a throbbing in my foot and my arm where someone had gripped me too tightly. It was a pain born almost three months ago, as sharp and real as if I had just been slapped.

  "You gave me the forget potion," I whispered to Jenks. "Why?" I gestured helplessly. "Was it worth all this? I want to know who did it!"

  "Talk, pixy!" Ivy barked as she spun. Her pupils were dilated, and red spotted her cheeks.

  Jenks stood miserably before us, black dust sifting from him. "I had to." He backed up, his wings fanning into motion when his heel hit a napkin. Ivy snatched for him, and he darted away. "I made the spell myself. I put it together and got your blood into it. You were going to go after Kisten's killer!" he exclaimed. "You would have died! I'm only four freaking inches tall. I don't have many options! And I can't lose you now!"

  Ivy slumped with her elbow on the counter and her forehead in her cupped hand. Her hair hid her face, and I wondered what she was feeling. Damn it, it wasn't fair. We had done it, managed a balance, and then my memory had to return and screw it all up.

  "That vampire would have killed you," Jenks begged. "I thought if you just forgot, time would take care of everything. You're not bound, so everything's okay! It's okay, Rache!"

  I prayed Jenks was right, but a shiver ran through me as I put a hand to my neck and covered my bites. God help me, I've never felt this vulnerable. I had been playing with vampires. I'd believed I had been bound. I couldn't…I couldn't do this anymore.

  Ivy took a ragged breath. Her brow furrowed, and as she stood upright, I saw an inner pain deep behind her eyes, cemented to her soul. "Excuse me," she said softly, and I jerked when she darted out. She fled with that eerie vampire speed, her feet squeaking on the wet linoleum. I reached out after her, and her bathroom door shut with a loud thump.

  I looked at Jenks. My life sucks.

  Tired, I leaned back against the sink and tried to figure it out. I didn't feel good. I was running on a lack of sleep, lack of food, and lack of understanding. I didn't want to think anymore. I just wanted to hide or cry on someone's shoulder. My eyes pricked with the warmth of tears, and I turned away. I wasn't going to cry in front of Keasley. Ceri and I were arguing. Ivy was hiding. I didn't have any friends to turn to. Depressed, I glanced at the two men, both staring at me with an awkward concern. I had to get out of here.

  "Jenks," I said breathily, looking at the salt-strewn kitchen. "I'm going to my mom's. Keasley, I'm sorry. I have to go."

  Feeling airy and unreal, light-headed, I pushed past the solemn witch and followed the creeping path of the water into the hallway. I was headed for the door, and I grabbed my bag in passing. I couldn't stay here. My mom might just be nuts enough to understand and sane enough to help. Besides, she might know a charm to reverse a forget potion. And then Ivy and I were going to nail Kisten's killer to a broomstick.

  Fourteen

  My mom's kitchen had changed since the last time I'd sat at the table eating cereal. A strong herb scent was heavy in the air, though I didn't see any. There weren't any spell pots or ceramic spoons in the sink either, but the redwood smell rolling off of her when she'd answered the door in her fuzzy leopard-print robe told me that she'd been spelling heavily recently.

  Now she smelled like lilac, with only the faintest aroma of redwood to mar it. I thought it funny she was trying to hide from me that she was making and selling charms under the table. Like I would turn my mom in? The I.S. wasn't necessarily generous in their pensions to widows—even those whose spouses worked in the Arcane Division—and it probably wasn't enough to meet the soaring property taxes of what had once been a middle-class neighborhood.

  The afternoon light coming in the kitchen window was bright as I sat glum and weary, eating cereal out of a cracked bowl in my usual spot. Lucky Charms. I didn't know which was more disturbing, the possibility that the box was the same one from the last time I'd had breakfast here, or the possibility that it wasn't.

  My gaze shifted to the pile of supermarket tabloids that my mother loved, and I tugged one out of the pile when MOURNING SISTER FINDS KITTY LITTER IN TWIN'S URN caught my eye. Below it was a short article on Cincy's colorful history of grave robbing and how bodies were again turning up missing on both sides of the river. A frown came over me. There was only one reason why cremated bodies were replaced with kitty litter—an offering of mortal ashes kept a summoned demon from appearing out of place, like outside the circle. I usually didn't bother with it, but the demons generally crashed my life, not the other way around.

  The reminder of Al prompted me to tug my bag across the table. I hadn't given my mother a reason for showing up and falling into an exhausted sleep on top of my old coverlet on my bed. Depression had replaced my fear at the thought that I'd been bound, and the beginnings of forgiveness to Jenks for wiping my memory had taken hold. He had done the right thing. I could easily imagine the state I had been in, and making me forget had probably saved my life. A witch with a vamp scar couldn't stand up to the undead. Ivy would find Kisten's killer. I'd take care of the demons.

  Rummaging in my bag, I pulled out my phone and looked at the screen. I had called Jenks the moment I'd woken up to check on Ivy. She was depressed, he said, which was workable. I wasn't looking forward to going back to the church and trying to patch things up. I didn't know what I was going to say. Despite everything, I was still happy that she was there. Maybe we could just ignore that she'd put four new holes in my neck and that I'd flaked out believing I'd been bound to Kisten's killer. I sighed as I checked the time.

  It was just after three, and still no call from Glenn or David. Glenn would get bent out of shape if I bugged him, but David wouldn't.

  The clock above the sink ticked, and I listened to the ugly thing while I scrolled through my short list for David's number. Robbie and I had bought the clock for Mother's Day ages ago, when we still thought the bug-eyed witch whose gaze and broom swept back and forth in time with the ticks was cool. There was a spot of white ceramic where the paint had chipped off the broom when it had fallen, and I wondered why she still had it. It was really, really nasty.

  My attention went back to the phone when the line clicked open and David's confident hello filled my ear. "Hi, David," I said. "Got anything yet?"

  I heard him hesitate, then ask cautiously, "Didn't your mom tell you?"

  He knows I'm at my mom's? "Uh, no," I said, scrambling. "How do you know I'm at my mom's?"

  David chuckled. "She answered your cell phone this afternoon while you were sleeping. We had a nice chat. Your mom is…different."

  Different. How politically correct could you get? "Thanks," I said dryly. "I take it we're not going out this afternoon?" If it had been other
wise, I thought she would have woken me. Maybe.

  "I've got the claim sitting on my desk," he said, and I heard papers rustling. "Tomorrow at two is the earliest I could nail the woman to a time." He hesitated, then quietly offered, "I'm sorry. I know you wanted to settle this today, but that's the best I could get."

  I sighed and looked at the clock again. The idea of hiding in my church another night had all the appeal of painting Trent's toenails. I wouldn't be able to avoid Ivy either. "Two tomorrow is great," I said, thinking I ought to use the time to stock my charm cupboard for an assault on black witches. I'd have to move everything to hallowed ground, though. What a pain in the butt. "Thanks, David," I said when I remembered I was in the middle of a conversation. "I really think it's them."

  "Me, too. I'll pick you up tomorrow at one. Get yourself dolled up, will you?" he said, amusement heavy in his voice. "I'm not taking you out in leather again."

  My brow furrowed. "Dolled up?" I started, but the line was dead.

  I stared at the phone for a moment, then smiled as I closed it and tucked it away. Listening to the quiet house, I ate my pink hearts, saved for last as always. Slowly my mood returned to melancholy. Someone had killed Kisten. That same someone had tried to bind me to them so I wouldn't tear their freaking head off. I had worked so hard to live with Ivy and stay unbound, and then a faceless monster killed my boyfriend and nearly bound me to it. Just that fast, my life could have been changed beyond my control. Damn it all to hell. I can't do this. I can't risk it. I can't…I can't let Ivy bite me again. Ever.

  The thought settled into me like lead. I had been living with Ivy for over a year, and now that we finally got it to work, I get smart? A shiver went through me, rattling the spoon against the bowl. I couldn't play this game anymore. I had briefly lived thinking I had been bound, and they had been the most terrifying moments of my life, turning me from a confident woman into a terrified plaything with no control over the degradation her life was to become. That the fear turned out to be baseless didn't make the lesson any less real. I could not let a vampire break my skin again. Would not. And I didn't know how I was going to tell Ivy.