Chapter Eighteen
My boots thumped dully on the sidewalk before the church, and with a bag of groceries on my hip, I smiled as I passed the red Mercedes parked at the curb, looking gray in the new dark, but still sexy. Ivy was back early.
Ivy didn't have a car, much less anything as flamboyant as a red Mercedes, but Nina did, and if Ivy had caught an earlier flight, Nina would have offered to pick her up at the airport. Which was good, seeing as my car was still at Trent's gatehouse.
The sound of kids playing in the dusk a block over was comforting, but when something ghosted over my head, I instinctively ducked, spinning to follow the shadow floating between me and the sky, still holding the pink of sunset. Slowly my pulse eased as I recognized the shape of a small gargoyle swooping through the spring-narrow leaves, large wings beating heavily as he or she came in almost vertically to land on a tombstone. Yellow eyes swiveled to me, and then her shape melted into the darkness.
My steps had bobbled, and knowing they had heard it, I quickened my pace. There had to be at least a dozen that had flown in since sunset, most on the tall wall surrounding the graveyard, but a few of the smaller ones sat in the neighborhood trees like huge vultures. None of them was on the church, which I thought telling. Jenks had talked to one yesterday, and apparently they were watching Bis's church to make sure Ku'Sox didn't damage it while he was in the ever-after.
It both pleased and worried me.
God help me, I had so much to do between now and Friday. It will be easier with Ivy back, I thought as I took the wide stairs of the church fast, shifting the reusable tote so I could get the door. But it opened as I reached for it, and Ivy stood before me, her silhouette sharp in the light pouring onto the stairs.
"Oh thank God you're here," I said, shifting the bag to my other hip so I could give her a hug right there on the stoop. "On top of everything else, we have to lift two elven rings from the museum."
"I should leave more often," she said, as her arms went briefly around me, her low, throaty voice an audible version of the vampire incense now pouring over me like fragrant oil. Giving her a last squeeze, I stepped back, beaming. Though clearly glad to see me, she was tense and furtive. Her jeans and black sweater were more casual than usual, and her hair, too, was free from its typical ponytail. The new boots she was wearing had a distinctive western feel to them, but she made it work with her sophisticated, trendy jacket.
A tight band eased about my chest as I breathed her in, her vampiric incense laced with the stale plastic scent of air flight and rental cars. Under that was the sweet honeyed smell of Daryl and Glenn's masculine scent. They were fading, though, and Nina's expensive perfume was by far the strongest outside influence. Ivy's hand on my back trembled, and I let her completely go, thoughts of Jax and Nick making my smile falter. I could hear Nina inside, talking to someone. Jenks maybe? Or on the phone, perhaps.
"You should have called me sooner," Ivy said, her tone accusing as she stepped back into the church. But then her posture slumped, and pain slipped into her black eyes. "How's Quen doing?"
Mood darkening, I followed her in, waving the new pixy dust aside as Jenks's kids dove into the bag to see what I'd brought back. "He's fine, meaning he's holding everything in, letting it fester."
She said nothing, and I looked up, reading the concern in her eyes. She had liked Ceri, too. "How are you doing?"
A hundred answers rose up, a hundred frustrations, a hundred raging cries at the world. "I'm fine, too," I said flatly.
Ivy's new boots scuffed on the sanctuary's old floor, her hair falling to hide her face as we headed to the kitchen. Nina's excited and cheerful voice-no sign of Felix-stood at dark odds with my thoughts.
"So how are Glenn and Daryl?" I asked, and her chin lifted. Concerned, I pulled her to a stop at the top of the hallway. "Ivy?" But she wouldn't bring her eyes down from the rafters, a hint of emotion welling up as she bit her lip. "Shit," I whispered, flushing as I realized what I'd done. "I shouldn't have called you."
Her eyes flicked to mine, and she shook her head. "I was already on my way back."
She tried to push past me to go into the hallway, and I got in her way. "What happened?" I demanded. "Did he dump you?"
Ivy's eyes went pupil black, but I didn't back down, even when her lips parted to show her teeth. Finally she dropped her head, saying, "Someone tried to sideswipe us on the expressway yesterday." The way she said it precluded that it was an accident. "Glenn handled it," she added, voice low as Nina laughed, oblivious to us. "Apparently he's had some defensive driving classes. Almost as good as the vampire who tried to kill us."
Her voice was light, but I was too befuddled to do anything as she pushed past me with the intoxicating scent of angry vampire, the complex cocktail plinking through my brain to make my skin ache. I'd thought it was a mistake for her to leave Cincy, but I knew how badly she'd wanted the relationship to work.
"Cormel told me not to leave. I stayed too long. His lapdog is back in the fence," she said bitterly, halfway down the hall. "He was right. I was wrong. Everything will be fine now."
She'd given me a reason, but something else had happened out at Flagstaff, something she didn't want to talk about but probably needed to. Groceries on my hip, I followed her into the brightly lit kitchen. I'd mention it to Jenks. He could push her a lot further than I could, seeing as he couldn't get bitten.
Nina looked up from Ivy's computer as I entered, a slim finger running down a search engine list. Jenks hovered over her, clearly interested in the screen. "What will be fine?" Nina said as I dropped the bag on the counter, and the pixy kids flew out, startling me. I'd forgotten they'd been in there, and I exhaled, trying to get rid of the flash of adrenaline.
"Everything," Ivy said. But her mood seemed glum when she strode to the window and shoved it all the way open. Cool evening air tasting of sunset seeped in, shifting my hair.
Nina wrinkled her carefully powered nose. She looked exceptionally polished tonight, wearing a versatile black pantsuit and functional low heels. Her makeup was light but exquisite, accentuating her fabulous cheekbones and dark coloring. If I hadn't known by her voice and cadence, I would know it was just her, not Felix, by the color in her cheeks, even if her pupils were edging into a dangerous black. Her eyes were bright and eager as she typed her way through a questionnaire with a speed that was borderline impossible.
"Secrets?" the woman said good-naturedly, her red lips curving up in a smile. Nose wrinkling again, she glanced at me, then away. Oh God, I hadn't had a chance to shower since coming back from the ever-after. I probably stank. That was why Ivy had shoved the window open, not to get rid of the scent of her anger or my flash of surprise.
Ivy sashayed over to her, and startled, Jenks rose up, wings clattering. "Secrets," Ivy breathed as she leaned over Nina's shoulder, her lips inches from her neck. "Always and forever, Nina. It's what keeps us alive."
Her eyes on the screen, Nina reached up to touch Ivy's cheek, hardly noticing.
Embarrassed at my apparent stink, I unpacked the bag. Organic raspberries for an illegal doppelganger curse, white thread since the pixy girls had absconded with mine, a new coffeemaker . . . Ivy watched in question as I set it clunking on the counter. Her eyes went to the empty spot beside the toaster, and I shrugged.
A faint wish for hot chocolate lifted through me as I took the coffeemaker apart and squirted a splat of soap into it. Filling it with water, I realized my old scar was tingling. Suddenly a lot more awake, I reached for a dish towel and turned. The coffeemaker could wait. Having my back to two amorous vampires was not a good idea.
Ivy was still hunched over Nina, a pale finger tracing something on the monitor, and I felt a pang of loss when Nina smiled beautifully up at her. Nina was on top of the world. It was right about then when things usually fell apart.
"That's the school Wayde used," Jenks said, hovering between Nina and the wall as he pointed to a link on the search engine's list. "He said the rates were high, but the equipment was state-of-the-art, and that's what you want, right?"
Nina pulled back to see Ivy. "Well, Ivy? You, me, and fifteen thousand feet next Friday?"
I almost choked. "Skydiving?" Ivy hated taking unnecessary chances. "Like two days from now?"
Still bent over Nina, Ivy met my eyes. Maintaining our connection, she found her full height before turning to the fridge. "The week after. You want to come?"
Nina froze. Realizing I'd be a third wheel on a bicycle made for two-or whatever-I turned back to the sudsy coffeemaker. "No, thanks." It would be all over one way or the other by then. Ivy moving on was a good thing.
Ivy's motions were intentionally slow as she came out from the fridge, frowning at Nina. She'd caught that jealous stiffening as easily as I had. "We're out of orange juice," she said as the door shut hard enough to make the cookie jar rattle.
"We didn't expect you back this soon," I said as I rinsed the coffeemaker and set it to dry.
"They have juice at the corner store," Nina offered. "I'll run down and get it. I could use the fresh air." Her nose wrinkled again.
Because I'm stinking up the kitchen, I thought sourly.
Ivy glanced at Jenks with a pleading look, and the pixy brightened as Nina reached for her purse. "Hey, ah, I'll come with you," he said, making me more than a little curious. "I've got to, ah, stretch my wings. See if we're the only church on the block with gargoyles on it."