karaoke machine all you want.'
Jenks's eyes widened. 'Most excellent,' he said in a surfer-boy accent. From above us came Jax's exuberant shout that all the bugs in the lamp shade had been dried out by the heat and he was going to eat their wings like chips if she didn't mind.
Oh God. And it had been going so well.
Ivy cleared her throat, clearly appalled when Jax flitted from lamp to lamp, growing more excited by the amount of pixy dust he was letting slip. 'Ah, I think that will do it,' I said, and the woman turned away, bumping into a table as she watched Jax on her way to the kitchen. The hair on the back of my neck had pricked; everyone in the bar was looking at us. Even the cook.
Jenks followed my gaze, his blond eyebrows high. 'Let me take care of this,' he said, standing up. 'Rache, do you have any money? I spent mine at The Butterfly Shack.'
Ivy's eyes darkened. 'I can handle this.'
A small noise came from Jenks. 'Like at the FIB?' he scoffed. 'Sit down, weenie vamp. I'm too big to get shoved into a water cooler.'
Feeling the tension rise, I shuffled in my bag and handed Jenks my wallet. I didn't know what he had in mind, but it was probably a lot less scary than what Ivy had planned, and it wouldn't land us in the local jail either. 'Leave some in there, okay?'
He gave me a lopsided, charming smile, his perfect teeth catching the light. 'Hey, it's me.' Making a click to tell Jax to join him, he ambled to the bar, his pace more provocative than it ought to have been. The man couldn't have any idea how good he looked.
'No honey toddies!' I shot after him, and he raised a backward hand. Ivy wasn't happy when I met her gaze. 'What?' I protested. 'You've seen him on honey.'
Nick snickered and set his glass of water down. Jax flew a glittering path to the karaoke machine ahead of his dad, Jenks's pace intent as he followed. Becky had her eyes glued to the small pixy as she talked on the phone, and I had a feeling he was intentionally dusting heavy. I wondered how this would get everyone's eyes off us. A distraction, maybe?
The father and son clustered at the screen, a reading lesson ensuing while they looked at the song menu. Ivy glanced at them, then Nick. 'Go help them,' she muttered.
Nick pulled his gaunt face up to hers. 'Why?'
Ivy's jaw clenched. 'Because I want to talk to Rachel.'
Frowning, Nick rose, his chair scraping on the wooden floor. Our drinks arrived, and the woman set his cherry shake, three glasses of Coke, and a condensation-wet pitcher on the table. Milk shake in hand, Nick shuffled to Jenks and Jax, looking tired in his gray sweats.
I sipped my Coke, feeling the bubbles burn all the way down. My stomach was empty and the smell of the cooking meat was giving me a headache. Setting the glass aside so I didn't slam it, I slumped, relying on Ivy to keep an eye on my back. I watched her relax muscle by muscle until she was calm.
'I'm glad you're here,' I said. 'I really made a crap pit of everything. He was in the middle of a survivalist group, for God's sake. I never expected that.' I should have done more recon, I thought, but I didn't need to say it. It was obvious.
Ivy shrugged, glancing at Nick, Jenks, and Jax. 'You got him out. I wasn't planning on staying,' she added, 'but since I'm here, I'll stick around.'
I blew my breath out, relieved. 'Thanks. But is that…prudent?' I hesitated, then ventured, 'Piscary's going to be royally ticked if you aren't there by sundown.'
Her gaze tracked Jax flitting madly from Nick to Jenks. 'So what?' she said, fingers fidgeting with her new earrings. 'He knows I'll be back. It's only a six-hour drive.'
'Yes, but you're out of his influence, and he doesn't—' My words cut off when she rolled her fingertips across the table in a soft threat. 'He doesn't like that,' I boldly finished, pulse quickening. Here, surrounded by humans, was probably the only place I'd dare push her like this. She was on her best behavior, and I was going to use it for all it was worth.
Ivy bowed her head, the black sheet of her shorter hair not hiding her face. The dusky scent of incense became obvious, and a soft tickle shivered through me. 'It will be okay,' she said, but I wasn't convinced. She lifted her head, and a faint blush of worry, or perhaps fear, colored her. 'Kisten is there,' she said. 'If I leave, no one cares but the higher-ups—who aren't going to do anything anyway. Kisten is the one who can't leave. If he does, it will be noticed, talked about, and acted upon by idiots who haven't had their fangs for a month. We're fine.'
This really wasn't what I had been worried about. Part of me wanted to take her explanation at face value and drop it, but the other part, the wiser, stupider half of me, wanted her to be honest so there would be no surprises. I turned when the front door opened and a woman came in, talking loudly to Becky as she shrugged out of her coat and headed for the back.
'Ivy,' I said softly, 'what about your hunger? You don't have your usual…' I stopped, not sure what to call the people she tapped for blood. Donors? Special friends? Significant others? I settled on, 'Support net?'
Ivy froze, sending a jolt of adrenaline through me. Crap. Maybe I should keep my mouth shut. 'Sorry,' I said, meaning it. 'It's not my business.'
'Your timing sucks,' she said, and the tension eased. I hadn't overstepped the friendship boundaries.
'Well…' I said, wincing. 'I don't know what you do.'
'I can't go out and knock up a streetwalker,' she said bitterly. Her eyes were hard, and I could tell she wasn't responding to me but to a deeper guilt. 'If I let it be a savage act that I can satisfy with anyone, I'll be a monster. What kind of a person do you think I am?'
'That's not what I said,' I protested. 'Cut me some slack, will you? I don't know how you take care of yourself, and I was too afraid to ask until now. All I know is you go out anxious and jittery and come home calm and hating yourself.'
My admission of fear seemed to penetrate, and the creases in her forehead smoothed. She uncrossed her legs, then crossed them under the table. 'Sorry. It surprised me you asked. I should be good for a few days more, but the stress—' Ivy cut her thought short and took a breath. 'I have a few people. We help each other and go our separate ways. I don't ask anything from them, and they don't ask anything from me. They're vamps, in case you're interested. I don't make ties with anyone else…anymore.'
Single, bi vamp looking for same for blood tryst, not relationship, I thought, hearing her unspoken desire in her last sentence, but I wasn't ready to deal with it.
'I don't like living like this,' Ivy said, her words unaccusing and her eyes a deep, honest brown. 'But it's where I am right now. Don't worry about it. I'll be okay. And as far as Piscary is concerned, he can burn in hell—if his soul hadn't already evaporated.'
Her face was expressionless again, but I knew it was a front. 'So you're going to stay?' I asked, both embarrassed and proud that I had learned I could ask for help when I needed it, and boy did I need it.
She nodded, and I exhaled, reaching for my drink. 'Thank you,' I said softly.
The idea of leaving everything to play dead the rest of my life scared the crap out of me the way a death threat couldn't. I liked my life, and I didn't want to have to leave it and start over. It had taken me too long to find friends who would stick with me when I did something stupid. Like turning a simple snag and drag into an interspecies power struggle.
Shifting one shoulder up and down in a half shrug, Ivy reached under her chair for that paper bag. 'Do you want your mail,' she asked, 'seeing as I brought it all this way?'
She was changing the subject, but that was fine by me. 'I thought you were kidding,' I said as Ivy set the sack on the table and I dragged it closer. Jenks and Jax were excited about something they had found on the list, and people had given up watching them in glances and were blatantly staring. At least they weren't looking at us.
'It's the package I'm curious about,' Ivy said, glancing at Nick and Jenks while they pointed at the screen.
I dumped everything out, putting the obvious thank-you-for-saving-my-ass note from a previous run back in the bag along with the insurance bill from David's company and a late season seed catalog. What was left was a paper-wrapped parcel the size of my two fists. I looked closer at the handwriting, my eyes jerking to Nick in the corner. 'It's from Nick,' I said, reaching for a table knife. 'What is he sending me when he thinks I'm dead?'
