For a Few Demons More (30 page)

Blood flowed. My body shook in a spasm. Oh, God. It was all. It was everything.

Scintillating and alive, I tasted vampire blood. It struck through me, and I clutched at Kisten, unable to breathe, unable to pull away in sheer ecstasy. In a flash, hunger poured into me, and I knew what Ivy and Kisten fought to contain every day, and how good it felt to sate it. It was Kisten's hunger echoing in me, without fear.

This is not wrong,
I thought as Kisten's hands clutched at me. The hunger demanded more, and I deepened the kiss we shared. There was only this. This was all. It was the spark of existence, pooled and collected, distilled to a feeling. And with Kisten's hunger echoing through
me, I pulled his blood from him, taking it as my own. Vampire blood wouldn't make me stronger, or faster, or live forever. But it was a rush. A high like no other. And I could feel his aura mixing with mine, sharing the same space as I took him into me.

A surge of white-hot need ached, spinning from his blood. He moaned, and as I drew his blood into me again, I tightened my grip on him and wouldn't let go. I could feel us reaching for climax. It was there, dancing just out of my reach.

His arms shook. I breathed heavily, struggling for air. A savage sound came from him, and he clutched me close. His blood was liquid thought, racing to set me alight. I could feel him inside me, and I pressed into him, desperate.

And then we found it.

Eyes clamped shut, I flung my head back. I could do nothing as a wash of sensation spilled into me, into us. Every cell sang with the release, leaving a high so deep there was no thought but for its continued existence.

Kisten's grip shook, and he staggered. Unaware of anything, we hung, poised in the rapture that suffused us. “My God,” he groaned, both satisfied and desperate as he reached out for the feeling. And with his words it slipped away. It was gone.

I took a gasping breath, slumping. My muscles wouldn't hold me, and I started to fall.

“Oh, God,” he said again, this time in worry as he caught me and brought me to the bed. I felt myself ease down, and he peered close. “Rachel…” he said, his hands holding my head.

“I'm okay,” I panted, trembling as I felt for the bed and put out an arm to keep myself upright. I shuddered, cold as my body tried to recover, and Kisten pulled me to him. Vampire blood and sex. Holy crap, they weren't kidding. It
was
good enough to kill a person.

Shifting himself back to the headboard, we found an almost-upright stance with his arms warm around me. “Are you okay?” he asked.

“Fine.” I couldn't stand, but I was fine. I was better than fine.
I had been afraid of this?

My hand was on his chest where his shirt hung open. Pulse slowing, I shifted my fingers across his skin, feeling the smoothness. I looked
for my pants, finding them puddled before the dresser. Kisten was still in his. Mostly. Contentment rose high in me, and I smiled, worn out and exhausted. I could hear his heartbeat, and I listened to it as it slowed. “Kisten?”

“Mmmm-hmm?”

The sound rumbled up through his chest and into me. I could hear the peace in it, and I snuggled closer. Fingers fumbling, Kisten pulled the lightweight coverlet over us.

“That was incredible,” I said, shivering at the comforter's smooth silk backing. “How do you…how do you go to work and live a normal life knowing that's there to find?”

Kisten's arms about me tightened. His one hand rose to find mine, stilling my motion against his skin. “You just do,” he said softly. “And you're a good bite. Innocent and eager.”

“Stop…” I moaned. “You make me sound like a…a…” I didn't know what to call myself, and “slut” sounded so nasty.

“Blood slut?”

“Shut up!” I exclaimed, and he grunted as my elbow jabbed him when I moved.

“Be still,” he said, wrapping his arms around me, keeping me where I was against him. “You're not.”

Forgiving him, I slumped back into his warmth. His hand moved against my hair, gentling me, and I watched the lights from the city reflected onto the low ceiling as a deep lassitude drifted into me. I ran my tongue across the insides of my caps to find the taste of him all the way to the back of my throat, and I couldn't concentrate well enough to decide if I liked finding it there or not. My pulse was slowing, taking my thoughts with it. I knew I should be worried about Ivy, but all I could manage was a sleepy, “Ivy…”

“Sh-h-h-h,” he whispered, his hand ever moving, soothing me. “It's okay. I'll make sure she understands.”

“I'm not leaving you, Kisten,” I said, but it sounded like I was trying to convince myself.

“I know.”

And in his silence that followed, I heard the echoes of the women before me who had said the same thing. “It wasn't a mistake,” I whispered,
eyes closing. I knew I was blood-sugared, his pheromones probably hitting me especially hard from my having taken his blood. “I didn't make a mistake.”

His hand moving atop my head never slowed, never sped up. “Not a mistake,” he agreed.

Reassured, I lay against him and inhaled his scent to find comfort. I wasn't going to abandon that feeling, no matter what. “So what do we do now?” I breathed as I started to fall into sleep.

“Whatever the hell we want,” he answered. “Sh-h-h-h, go to sleep.”

The last of my tension eased, and I wondered if I should take my caps off. “Anything?” I whispered, surprised at how natural they felt. I'd forgotten I had them on.

“Yeah, anything,” he said. “Go to sleep. You haven't had a good sleep in days.”

Safe in Kisten's arms, I closed my eyes, feeling more secure than I had since my dad had died. Only now did I feel the gentle movement of the boat, rocking me into oblivion. I was sated in mind and body and soul. Kisten's arm was over me. It was like the warmest comforter on the coldest morning. I exhaled, finding a peace I hadn't known I'd been missing.

And as I hovered in a curious mix of waking and sleep, I heard Kisten sigh, his fingers still gentling the hair about my forehead. “Don't leave us, Rachel,” he whispered, clearly not aware I was still awake. “I don't think Ivy or I could survive it.”

Standing at the church's door in the early-afternoon sun, I shifted the shiny paper sack of three-dollar pastries and wedged the foam container of brewed gourmet coffee into the crook of my elbow. One hand free, I managed the latch and pushed on the heavy door. The strap to my shoulder bag slipped to my elbow to throw me off balance, but my held breath eased out when it opened. Thank God it wasn't bolted. Ivy would hear me for sure if I had to come in the back.

Listening, I pushed the door wider. My stomach was upset. I'd like to say it was from lack of sleep, but I knew it was from how the next hour was going to play out. Kisten hadn't broken my skin, but Ivy was going to be pissed, especially after being so clear yesterday. One way or another, my life was going to change—in the next sixty minutes.

Letting Kisten face the fallout wasn't going to happen either. Ivy was my roommate; it had been my decision. And after I had quelled my minor panic attack in Kisten's bathroom this morning, I'd convinced him to let me tell her. She wanted a relationship with me, and if I came in unrepentant and matter-of-fact, she'd hide her feelings until she could deal with them. If he came to her meek and guilty, she'd get mad and do who knew what. Besides, Ivy had shown me what she could offer, then walked out the door. What did she expect me to do? Be celibate with Kisten while I figured it all out? Kisten had been my boyfriend first.

But she was my friend, and her feelings mattered.

The sack of Godiva chocolate and the thimble-size jar of dogwood-blossom honey that had set me back ten bucks swung from a pinkie as I eased the door shut and, in the darkness of the foyer, kicked off my shoes. So I wasn't above bribery. So sue me.

A thick silence gave me pause. It was eerie, and I padded in my sock feet through the sanctuary. Ivy had moved her stereo out, though the furniture was still clustered in the corner. I wondered if she was waiting for me to finish the living room together. The church felt different, the blasphemy seeming to grate heavily on my aura.

Head down, I hustled past her closed bedroom door, not wanting the scent of coffee to wake her until I was ready. I wasn't a fool to believe that coffee, pastries, chocolate, and honey would be enough to soothe Ivy's hurt emotions and Jenks's worry, but it might buy me time to explain before the shit hit the fan. Kisten wanted me to tell her I'd bitten him to understand her hunger better, but it would be a lie. I'd bitten him because I had known he'd enjoy it. That it had felt good to me had been an unexpected surprise—which I was embarrassed about now.

Safe in the kitchen, I set the pastries by the sink, wincing at the nine-by-thirteen pan of unfrosted chocolate cake and tub of white frosting.
She made me a cake while I was sleeping with Kisten?
Great.

“The nice plate,” I said, quashing my guilt and rummaging for the plate Ivy had bought at a garage sale this spring after I'd said I liked the violets on the open-weave rim. Not finding it, I slid the top everyday black plate out, glancing at the empty hallway when the ceramic clinked. The sack crackled as I took out and arranged the pastries. The coffee was next, and my frown deepened when Ivy's Vampiric Charms mug wasn't in the cupboard. It wasn't like her to put it in the dishwasher, but the door creaked, so I poured the brew into a set of smaller cups.

“Now for Jenks,” I muttered, getting a matching dessert plate and setting the single square of fudge on it, strategically placing the honey beside it. This was going to work. I'd talk to them both together, and it was going to be all right. It wasn't as if I had let him bite me.

Ready, I spun to the table. My face went cold. Ivy's computer was gone.

My thoughts flew to the sanctuary and her missing stereo. “Please, let us have been robbed,” I whispered. Scared out of my mind, I hustled
into the hallway. Had she found out and left?
Damn it! I wanted to be the one to tell her!

Pulse pounding, I stopped before Ivy's door. I felt hot, then cold. Hesitating, I tapped the thick wood. “Ivy?” No answer. I took a deep breath, knocked again, and turned the handle. “Ivy? Are you awake?”

Heart in my throat, I looked in. Her bed was made and her room looked normal. But then I saw that her book was gone from her night-stand and the closet was empty.

“Oh…crap,” I breathed. My eyes darted to the wall with her informal collage of pictures. They were all there from what I could tell, but then I wondered. The picture of Jenks and me standing before the Mackinac Bridge. Had there been an empty spot on the fridge?

Feeling unreal, I paced to the kitchen, my stomach caving as I entered. It was gone.

“Ah…shit,” I swore, and a tiny harrumph pulled my attention to the sink.

“Shit?” Jenks said, standing on the windowsill between his sea monkeys and Mr. Fish. “Shit!” he shrilled, coming to hover before me. His face was tight in anger, and black pixy dust spilled from him. “Is that all you have to say? What did you do, Rachel?”

Mouth open, I took a stumbling step back. “Jenks…”

“She's gone!” he said, hands clenching. “Packed up and left.
What did you do!
”

“Jenks, I was—”

“She leaves, and you come home with bribes. Where were you?”

“I was with Kisten!” I shouted, then fell back two steps when he flew at me.

“I can smell him
in
you, Rachel!” the pixy shouted. “He bit you! You let him bite you when you knew Ivy couldn't! What the
hell
is wrong with you!”

“Jenks. It's not like that—”

“You stupid witch! If it's not one of you, it's the other. You women are all damned fools. She makes a pass at you, and you screw everything up by letting Kisten bite you so you can feel secure in your own sexual drives?” He darted at me, and I put the center island counter between us, but seeing as he could fly over it, that was kind of useless. “And then you try to buy me off with fudge and
honey
? You can stick my dragonfly's
turds on a stick and roast them, because I can't take you two women screwing my life up anymore!”

“Hey!” I shouted, hands on my hips and leaning to put my nose inches from him. “He didn't bite me! She never said I couldn't bite him. She only said he couldn't bite me!”

Jenks pointed a finger at me. He took a breath, then hesitated. “He didn't bite you?”

“No!” I shouted, burning off some adrenaline. “You think I'm stupid?” He raised a hand, and I added, “Don't answer that.”

He landed on the counter, arms crossed over his chest and his wings a blur of agitation. “That doesn't make it right,” he said, sounding sullen. “You knew it would bother her.”

Pissed, I slammed my hand on the counter to make him jump into the air. “I can't live my life by what bothers Ivy! Kist is my boyfriend! Ivy making a pass at me didn't change that, and I'll have sex with who I want and how I want, damn it!”

His feet touched the counter, and his wings went still. Guilt hit me hard as I looked at him standing there. I wished he were bigger so I could give him a hug and tell him it was going to be all right, anything to get that terrible look of betrayal and anger off him. But he just stared.

Sighing, I swung a chair around. I sat on it backward and put my folded arms on the counter, slumping to get my eyes on the same level as his. He wouldn't look at me. “Jenks,” I said softly, and he sneered, wings coming alive. “It's going to be okay. I'll find her and explain.” I reached out, letting my hand fall to curve protectively around him. “She'll understand,” I said, gazing at the cake and hearing the guilt in my voice. “She has to.”

He looked at me, his arms uncrossing. “But she left,” he said plaintively.

My hand beside him moved in a motion of exasperation. “You know how she can be. She just needs to cool off. Maybe she went to spend the weekend at Skimmer's?”

“She took her computer.”

Glancing at the empty space, I winced. “She couldn't have found out that fast. What time did she leave?”

“Right before midnight.” He stopped pacing and looked at me
sideways. “It was really weird. Like that movie where the guy gets a call and it triggers a set of actions programmed into him years ago? What's the name of that movie?”

“I don't know,” I muttered, glad he wasn't yelling at me anymore. She couldn't have left because of this. Kisten and I hadn't even had dinner yet by midnight.

“She wouldn't answer me,” he said. He resumed pacing, and I watched, wondering how much of his outburst had been worry for Ivy finding an easy outlet in anger at me. “She just packed her clothes and her computer and her music and left.”

My eyes went to the fridge and the empty tomato magnet. “She took our picture.”

“Yeah.”

I pulled myself up. Something had happened, but it was unlikely she knew about Kisten and me, and there was no way for her to find out until she got back. Jenks was the only one who knew; I had taken the bus home, so even Steve wouldn't smell Kisten's blood in me. “Who called? Skimmer?” I asked, wondering if it had simply been an emergency run.
An emergency run she hadn't taken Jenks on? Or even told him what it was?

“I don't know,” Jenks said. “I came in when I heard the whine of her computer shut off.”

Lips pressed together, I thought about that.

“Why, Rachel?” Jenks asked, his voice tired.

I didn't move anything but my eyes. “My biting Kisten is not why she left.”

His angular face pinched in distress. “Maybe someone found out and called her.”

The thought of what Ivy was capable of in a fit of rage passed through me, and I reached for my shoulder bag. The timing was wrong, but still…“Maybe I should call Kisten.”

He nodded in worry, coming closer as I punched the right buttons. I held the phone from my ear, and we both listened to it ring until it shunted me into voice mail. “Hey, Kisten,” I said, eyes on Jenks, “give me a call when you get this. Ivy wasn't here when I got home. She took her computer and music. I don't think she knows, but I'm worried.” I wanted to say more, but there wasn't more to say. “'Bye,” I whispered, and hit the “end” button.
'Bye? God, I sounded like a little lost girl.

Jenks peered up at me, the color returning to his wings. “Call Ivy,” he demanded, but I was already ahead of him. This time I was dumped right into voice mail, and I left a guilty-sounding message that I had to talk to her and not to do anything until I talked to her. I wanted to say I was sorry, but I closed the phone and looked at it sitting alone on the counter.

Suddenly the pastries arranged on their plate looked trite. I was an ass. “Jenks…”

The coaxing in my voice turned his worry into a cold anger. “I don't want to hear about it. You screwed everything up for one moment of blood passion. Even if that's not why she left, she will when she finds out. What's
wrong
with you? Can't you leave things alone?”

“No, I can't!” I exclaimed. “And it wasn't just a moment of blood passion, it was an affirmation of what I feel for Kisten, so you can shove it, you little twit. I know what I'm doing,” I said. He opened his mouth to protest, and I threw my hands up in the air. “Okay, maybe I don't, but I'm
trying
to figure this out. It's all mixed up. The blood, the passion. It's all mixed up, and I don't know what to do!”

He was clearly taken aback, and I surged ahead, almost panicked. “I want Ivy to bite me.” I said. “It feels too damn good, and it would do both of us good. But the only way to do it safely is to sleep with her. And I'm not going to sleep with her just for the blood passion until I know what's going on in my head. I never thought I'd like a girl—I mean, I'm straight, right? Is it the vamp scar that's turning me on, or her? Do I love Ivy or just the way she can make me feel? There's a difference, Jenks, and I'm not going to cheapen it if it's only about the blood.” I knew my face was red, but he deserved to hear it all. “Ivy made a pass at me because she knows I make decisions by doing stuff and then thinking about it, not the other way around. Well, I'm doing different stuff, and look how messed up everything got. Isn't this nice?” I said sarcastically, gesturing behind me at Ivy's empty place.

Jenks's wings went still, and he sat down on edge of the fudge plate. “Maybe you should try it,” he said, and a spike of adrenaline shot through me and was gone. “Just once,” he coaxed. “Sometimes the quickest way to find out who you are is to be that person for a while.”

I'd thought of that already, and it scared me. Slowly I brought my eyes to his. “Then why are you upset that I bit Kisten?” I said. “That's
me trying to be someone new. You think I would've done that a year ago? Why is it wrong when I try things with Kisten and not Ivy?”

His gaze went to her empty spot at the table. “Because Ivy loves you.”

My gut tightened. “So does Kisten.”

Jenks brought his knees to his chin and clasped his hands around his shins. “Ivy would die for you, Rachel. Kisten won't. Put your emotions where they will keep you alive.”

It was a hard truth. Ugly. I didn't want to choose who I loved by who could keep me alive. I wanted to make decisions on who I loved by who completed me, made me feel good about myself. Who I could love freely and help make a better person by just being there. God, I was confused. Tired, I pillowed my head on my folded arms and stared at the table, inches from my nose. I heard the soft sound of wings, and the draft from Jenks stirred my hair.

“It's all right, Rachel,” he said, close and concerned. “She knows you love her.”

My throat closed, and I sighed. Maybe I should try it Ivy's way. At least as far as I could without becoming uncomfortable or freaked out. Just once. A moment of embarrassment would be better than all this confusion. And awkwardness. And misery.