Dead Witch Walking

Ivy slammed the door behind him. Moving with that same eerie grace, she crossed the living room and dropped into a chair. Her face was dark with anger, and I stared at her. Holy crap. I was living with a vampire. Nonpracticing or not, she was a vamp. What had Kist said? That Ivy was wasting her time? That I'd run when I saw her hunger? That I was hers? Shit.

Moving slowly, I edged backward out of the room. Ivy glanced up, and I froze. The anger drained from her face, replaced with what looked like alarm when she saw my fear.

Slowly, I blinked. My throat closed and I turned my back on her, going into the hallway.

'Rachel, wait,' she called after me, her voice cajoling. 'I'm sorry about Kist. I didn't invite him. He just showed up.'

I strode into the hall, tensed to explode if she put a hand on me. Was this why Ivy had quit with me? She couldn't legally hunt me, but as Kist had said, the courts wouldn't care.

'Rachel…'

She was right behind me, and I spun. My stomach tightened. Ivy took three steps back. They were so quick it was hard to tell she had moved. Her hands were raised in placation. Her brow was pinched in worry. My pulse hammered, giving me a headache. 'What do you want?' I asked, half hoping she would lie and tell me it was a mistake. From outside came the noise of Kist's bike. I stared at her as the sound of his departure faded.

'Nothing,' she said, her brown eyes earnestly fixed to mine. 'Don't listen to Kist. He's just jerking you around. He flirts with what he can't have.'

'That's right!' I shouted so I wouldn't start shaking. 'I'm yours. That's what you said, that I'm yours! I'm not anyone's, Ivy! Stay the hell away from me!'

Her lips parted in surprise. 'You heard that?'

'Of course I heard that!' I yelled. Anger overpowered my fear, and I took a step forward. 'Is that what you're really like?' I shouted, pointing to the unseen living room. 'Like that—that animal? Is it? Are you hunting me, Ivy? Is this all about filling your gut with my blood? Does it taste better when you betray them? Does it?'

'No!' she exclaimed in distress. 'Rachel, I—'

'You lied to me!' I shouted. 'He bespelled me. You said a living vamp couldn't do that unless I wanted him to. And I sure as hell didn't!'

She said nothing, her tall shadow framed by the hallway. I could hear her breath and smell the sweet-sour tang of wet ash and redwood: our scents dangerously mingling. Her stance was tense, her very stillness sending a shock through me. Mouth dry, I backed up as I realized I was screaming at a vampire. The adrenaline spent itself. I felt nauseous and cold. 'You lied to me,' I whispered, retreating into the kitchen. She had lied to me. Dad was right. Don't trust anyone. I was getting my things and leaving.

Ivy's steps were overly loud behind me. It was obvious she was making an effort to hit the floor hard enough to make a sound. I was too angry to care.

'What are you doing?' she asked as I opened a cupboard and pulled a handful of charms off a hook, to put them in my bag.

'Leaving.'

'You can't. You heard Kist. They're waiting for you!'

'Better to die knowing my enemies then to die sleeping innocently beside them,' I retorted, thinking it was the stupidest thing I'd ever said. It didn't even make sense.

I jerked to a halt as she slipped in front of me and shut the cupboard. 'Get out of my way,' I threatened, my voice low so she wouldn't hear it shake.

Dismay pinched her eyes and furrowed her brow. She looked utterly human, and it scared the crap out of me. Just when I thought I understood her, she did something like this.

With my charms and finger sticks out of reach, I was helpless. She could throw me across the room and crack my head open on the oven. She could break my legs so I couldn't run. She could tie me to a chair and bleed me. But what she did was stand before me with a pained, frustrated look on her pale, perfect, oval face. 'I can explain,' she said, her voice low.

I fought off the shakes as I met her gaze. 'What do you want with me?' I whispered.

'I didn't lie to you,' she said, not answering my question. 'Kist is Piscary's chosen scion. Most of the time Kist is just Kist, but Piscary can—' She hesitated. I stared at her, every muscle in my body screaming to run. But if I moved, she would move. 'Piscary is older than dirt,' she said flatly. 'He's powerful enough to use Kist to go places he can't anymore.'

'He's a servant,' I spat. 'He's a freaking lackey for a dead vamp. Does his daylight shopping for him, brings Papa Piscary humans to snack on.'

Ivy winced. The tension was easing from her, and she took a more relaxed stance—still between me and my charms. 'It's a great honor to be asked to be a scion for a vampire like Piscary. And it's not all one-sided. Because of it, Kist has more power than a living vamp should have. That's how he was able to bespell you. But Rachel,' she rushed as I made a helpless noise, 'I wouldn't have let him.'

And I should be happy for that? That you don't want to share? My pulse had slowed, and I sank down into a chair. I didn't think my knees would support me anymore. I wondered how much of my weakness was from the spent adrenaline and how much was Ivy pumping the air full of soothing pheromones. Damn, damn, damn! I was in way over my head. Especially if Piscary was involved.

Piscary was said to be one of the oldest vampires in Cincinnati. He didn't cause trouble and kept his few people in line. He worked the system for all it was worth, doing all the paperwork and making sure every take his people made was legal. He was far more than the simple restaurant owner he pretended to be. The I.S. had a 'Don't ask, don't tell' policy on the master vampire. He was one of the aforementioned people who moved in Cincinnati's unseen power struggles, but as long as he paid his taxes and kept his liquor license current; there was nothing anyone could—or wanted to—do. But if a vampire looked harmless, it only meant they were smarter than most.

My eyes flicked to Ivy, standing with her arms clasped about herself as if she were upset. Oh, God. What was I doing here?

'What's Piscary to you?' I asked, hearing my voice tremble.

'Nothing,' she said, and I made a scoffing noise. 'Really,' she insisted. 'He's a friend of the family.'

'Uncle Piscary, huh?' I said bitterly.

'Actually,' she said slowly, 'that's more accurate than you might think. Piscary started my mother's living- vamp bloodline in 1700s.'

'And has been bleeding you slowly ever since,' I said bitterly.

'It's not like that,' she said, sounding hurt. 'Piscary's never touched me. He's like a second father.'

'Maybe he's letting the blood age in the bottle.'

Ivy ran her hand over her hair in an unusual show of worry. 'It's not like that. Really.'

'Swell.' I slumped to put my elbows on the table. Now I had to worry about chosen scions invading my church with the strength of a master? Why didn't she tell me this before? I didn't want to play the damn game if the rules kept changing.

'What do you want with me?' I asked again, afraid she might tell me and I'd have to leave.

'Nothing.'

'Liar,' I said, but when I looked up from the table, she was gone.

My breath came in a quick sound. Heart pounding, I stood, my arms clasped about myself as I stared at the empty counters and silent walls. I hated it when she did that. Mr. Fish on the windowsill wiggled and squirmed, not liking it, either.

Slow and reluctant, I put my charms away. My thoughts swirled back to the fairy attack on my front steps, the Were splat balls stacked on my back porch, and then to Kist's words that the vamps were just waiting for me to leave Ivy's protection. I was trapped, and Ivy knew it.

Thirteen

I tapped on the outside of the passenger window of Francis's car to get Jenks's attention. 'What time is it?' I