White Witch, Black Curse (The Hollows 7) - Page 53

I exhaled, but the vampire scent I pulled in after it only made things worse. My eyes closed and I held myself, almost rocking with the pain of not wanting to be here. Too late I saw Skimmer's plan. She was going to drive Ivy into biting her, thinking if I saw Ivy rip open Skimmer's throat in a release of blood lust that I'd abandon her. Or if it turned into sex, the same result. This was ugly. It wasn't love, it was manipulation, using Ivy's instincts against her will. And Ivy couldn't stop it.

The soft sounds of Skimmer coaxing Ivy made my stomach clench as private moments from their past were laid out before me. My focus went blurry as I tried to divorce myself from it, but the combination of my fear and the vampire pheromones ripped through the barriers my mind had made, and with the suddenness of a slap, a memory of Kisten surfaced.

I gasped, holding my breath as I felt my face go blank. Slowly I slid down the wall until I found a corner. It was a memory not of Kisten, but of his killer, one so close to what Skimmer was doing to Ivy that it had triggered a memory of my own struggle.

Oh God, I thought as I clenched my eyes, trying to keep the memory from growing on itself, but I couldn't...stop it, and as I sat, my knees to my chin, I remembered.

Kisten's killer tried to blood-rape me, exactly like Skimmer is trying to do to Ivy. Breath held, I put a hand to my neck as the memory of him playing on my scar slithered into my conscious mind. I remembered him holding me against the wall, bespelling me. I remembered the waves of passion he sent through me with only the lightest of touches, passion mixed with loathing, disgust, and desire. His fingers had been rough and aggressive, and I had been confused. The sound of Ivy's ragged panting as she struggled to say no ignited a memory of me doing the same. They were so familiar, so god-awful familiar.

"No," Ivy whispered, and I felt my own lips form the word. I had said no, too, and then I had begged him to bite me, hating myself as I writhed for it. I could almost feel the boat rocking as I recalled standing with my back to the wall, my hands clenched upon him, as they were clenched about my knees right now. Tears started. I had begged for it, just as Ivy was about to.

And Kisten, I remembered, hadn't let me. In my thoughts, I had a vision of Kisten, confused and not himself, knocking us apart so I could regain my will. He had done it knowing the other vampire would end his life a second time, but he had loved me so deeply that just the shadow memory of it had broken past his first death and he had made the sacrifice.

Anger burned through my misery, driving the Skimmer-and-Ivy-induced, pulse-pounding ecstasy deep, where I could see beyond it. Head up, I wiped the tears away, wishing I could do the same for my fragmented memory, but it was there now, and I'd never forget. I focused on Skimmer and Ivy, heart breaking at what Ivy had to suffer simply because of who she was, her vulnerabilities tied closely to her strengths. Kisten had saved me. I could do no less for Ivy.

Ivy was trembling, her lips parted and her eyes closed as she forgot how to say no, tasting the sweetness she couldn't refuse. Victory was in Skimmer's face as she nuzzled Ivy's neck, and her eyes were black with the power she had over Ivy, taking herself higher by dragging Ivy down to her swill.

My teeth clenched, and the remembered scent of damp cement spilled through my memory. I staggered to my feet, and it was as if I could taste cold, dry iron on my tongue. I strode forward, making my hands into fists as the memory of running my hands through Kisten's killer's short black hair filled me.

Skimmer gasped and arched into Ivy, encouraging her, blind to me coming at her.

It was almost too late. Ivy's fangs were wet, glistening, and a flash of remembered heat sparked through me at the memory of them sliding cleanly into me, mixing pleasure and pain in an unreal surge of adrenaline and endorphins. Shaking, I took a breath.

"I'm sorry, Ivy," I whispered, then punched her in the gut.

Ivy's breath whooshed out. Hands on her middle, she stumbled, struggling to breathe.

"You bitch!" Skimmer screamed, too shocked to move as the expected rush of a bite had been ripped from her. If I had hit her, she would have instinctively reacted and I'd probably be dead. Even dying, Kisten had taught me one more lesson. He had gone after his murderer, and it had cost him his undead existence. He had died for me. He had died for me.

Ivy took in an ugly gasp of breath. I spared her a glance, then fell into a defensive stance between them. "Leave Ivy alone."

Skimmer screamed in frustration, her eyes black and her hands cramped into claws, but I had knocked her on her butt once before, and she knew I could take her.

"Ivy?" I called, risking a glance back to see that she was still lost in the throes of blood lust even as she struggled for air. Crap on toast. I hadn't expected to have to handle both of them at once. "Ivy!" I shouted, angling to get her out from behind me yet keeping an eye on Skimmer, too. "Look at me. Look at me! Who do you want to be tomorrow?"

Her hands still on her middle, Ivy peered at me from around the curtain of her hair. She got one clean breath, then another. To my right, Skimmer started shaking in frustration. Ivy looked at her, her face horrified.

"Who do you want to be tomorrow?" I asked again, seeing her awareness return. "You haven't lost anything, Ivy. It's okay. You didn't lose. You're still the same."

She blinked, and a rim of brown showed about her pupils. "Oh my God," Ivy whispered, then straightened. "You sorry little...vampire!" she shouted. "How could you do that to me!"

Ivy took three steps, and I got between them. Behind me, Skimmer was pressed into a corner in fear. "Ivy, don't!" I demanded.

Her eyes were still black, the fear heavy that she'd almost lost herself, to be ruled by her instincts, and a shiver lifted through me. "Let it go," I said, and her jaw unclenched. My breath slipped from me in relief, and I inhaled. She smelled delicious when she was pissed.

Skimmer saw Ivy regain her will, and knowing that I'd given it to her, something in her broke. "She's mine!" the vampire shouted, and she leapt, fangs bared and snarling.

I ducked, and I heard a soft "Ooff." Skimmer fell to the floor beside me in a crumpled heap. I looked up at Ivy from my crouch. Pain and betrayal had replaced her hunger, and deeper than that, gratitude.

"You can't have her!" Skimmer was crying, pushing into a folded ball of misery. "She's mine. She's mine! I'll kill you. I'll kill you just like I killed Piscary!"

Ivy extended a shaking hand to help me rise. "Are you okay?"

I looked up at her, standing between me and a jealous death. Her eyes were mostly brown, the pain at what was happening mirrored in her gaze, familiar. I turned to Skimmer, sobbing and scared. Taking a shallow breath, I put my hand into Ivy's and let her help me up. "Yes," I whispered as I stumbled until I found my balance. I didn't feel so good.

Ivy wouldn't look at Skimmer. "I think we should go."

She moved to the door, and I glanced at Skimmer. "We didn't get what we came for."

"I don't care."

Ivy tapped on the door, and when that brought Miltast, though the screams hadn't, Skimmer rallied. "Bitch!" she shouted, lunging at me again. Ivy was ready, and Skimmer ran right into Ivy's stiff-armed palm. My pulse hammered at how fast it had been.

Gasping, Skimmer fell back. Her hands covered her face, but blood leaked from her nose. Crying now in earnest, the small vampire collapsed onto the couch. Her back was to us, and as I almost ran through the open door, Ivy hesitated. I watched from the hall as she put a loving hand on Skimmer's shoulder.

"I'm sorry," I heard her whisper. "I loved you, but I can't do this anymore."

Skimmer hunched deeper. "I'll kill her," she sobbed. "If you stay with her, I'll kill her."

A chill ran through me. Not at her words, but at the love in Ivy's arms as she curved them around Skimmer. "No, you won't. Rachel isn't the one who showed me I deserved to be loved. You did. Tell me who came to visit Piscary."

"Get out," Skimmer sobbed, pushing weakly at Ivy. Blood stained her white jumpsuit, and Miltast stiffened upon seeing it.

"Who visited Piscary off the lists?" Ivy insisted.

Skimmer's shaking stopped as she gave up. "No one but Kisten came," she said, her high voice bland. "Once a week, three days after you. No one else."

I exhaled, and a sorry-assed depression took hold. Nothing. We had gotten nothing.

"I loved you, Ivy," Skimmer whispered in a dead voice. "Get out. Don't come back."

Ivy stood, her head bowed. Steadying herself, she turned and strode to the door, passing me in a wash of sour, unhappy-vampire incense. Boots clacking on the hard floor, she continued down the hallway alone.

I jumped to follow. I heard Miltast lock the door and then his booted steps. I caught up to Ivy at the locked door where we waited for Miltast. "Are you all right?" I questioned, not knowing what she was feeling.

"She'll be okay," Ivy said, jaw tight and not looking at me.

Miltast fumbled for the door lock, swiping his card and falling back when Ivy pushed through it ahead of him. "I can't believe you didn't get bitten," he said in apparent awe.

My eyes narrowed and I decided that they'd let me in there expecting me to come out hurt or dead. He was a white witch who had the government's blessing to do black magic. And if I made one wrong move, he'd react. Disgusted, I turned on my heel and followed Ivy.

I could hear his steps slow behind me, and my skin prickled. I finally caught up with her at the first door. The old woman at the spell checker, standing up and getting the check-out forms ready, seemed surprised to see us.

"Ivy," I said as we waited for Miltast to catch up, her head down and silent. "I'm sorry."

Finally her stoic expression cracked and she looked at me, unshed tears glinting. "I didn't know she was going to do that," she said. "Thank you for hitting me. I...couldn't say no. Damn it, I couldn't. I thought-"

She cut her thought short when Miltast slid the glass door aside. The air wasn't much fresher, but I pulled it in deep as I crossed into the middle ground, trying to rid myself of the accumulated vampire pheromones. Sighing, I put a hand to my neck and let it drop. "You're not serious about going on a blood fast," I asked as I handed Miltast my badge.

Ivy's fingers shook as she peeled off her name tag and handed it to the officer. "I was thinking about it," she said evenly.

Even Miltast knew it was a bad idea, and he eyed me as we signed our forms again and headed to the final door. If she was on a blood fast, living with her was going to be a lot harder.

"What a waste of time," Ivy said softly as we passed back through the spell checker and the woman gave us our stuff; but it hadn't been, and my pulse quickened. I remembered. I had remembered a lot. Ignoring my shaky knees, I wound my scarf around my neck, and with my bag under my arm, I headed for the double glass doors and the brutal but honest chill of the night. Milktoast and his friend had been privy to too much of our drama already.

"Actually," I said as I wrangled my gloves on while Ivy held the door open for me, "it wasn't a waste. Seeing you and Skimmer...I remembered something."

Ivy stopped dead in her tracks, pulling me to a halt in a puddle of light just outside. It seemed to have gotten colder in the hour we'd been inside, and the night air cut into my lungs like a knife, making my thoughts crystal clear after the heated confusion behind the glass walls. I pulled the dry air, smelling of snow and exhaust, in deep, relishing it and seeing the past moments with a clearer eye.

"Kisten-" I said, warming, then flushed. God, this was hard, and I closed my eyes to keep them from filling. Maybe I could say it if I couldn't see her. "Kisten's killer had dry hands," I said. "Rough. He smelled like damp cement, and his fingertips tasted of cold iron." I knew this because I'd had them in my mouth. God help me, I had begged him to bite me.

My jaw clenched, and I forced it to relax as I opened my eyes. "Kisten was dead," I said as the snow started to show on Ivy's black-clad shoulder. "I think it was an accident. His killer hadn't touched his blood yet, and he was really mad about that... So he was going to make me his shadow instead. He...he was making me beg for it." I took a shaky breath. If I didn't tell her now, I might not ever. "He was playing on my scar to make me beg him to bite me. Kisten stopped him. He knew it might end with him dead twice, but he did it anyway."

Ivy's head dropped, and she rubbed her forehead.

"I'm sorry," I said, not knowing why. "He let himself be killed again because he loved me."

The light glistened on Ivy's tear-wet eyes when she looked up. "But he couldn't remember why he loved you, could he?"

I shook my head when a remembered feeling of mental pain drifted up. "No, he couldn't."

Ivy silently took that in. Deep in her shadowed eyes I could see her wish that I might find a way to save her from that fate. "I don't want to live not remembering why I love," she finally said, her face pallid as she looked ahead to her own soul death.

"I'm sorry, Ivy," I whispered as I fell into step beside her while we headed for my vehicle.

"It's what we are," she said stoically.

But it wasn't who she wanted to be.

Tags: Kim Harrison The Hollows Fantasy
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