A Fistful of Charms (35 page)

Jenks stood with his feet widespread and his stance terrible. “You stupid, selfish whore of a vampire,” he intoned. “You said you wouldn't. You promised. Now you've ruined everything. You couldn't accept what she could give, so you took it all!”

“I didn't.” Ivy sprawled in the sun with her sword at her throat, the sun glinting on it and her tears. “I told her no. I told her to stop,” she wept. “She asked me to.”

“She wouldn't ask for this,” he spat, jerking the sword so it touched her white skin to leave a line of red. “You ruin everything you love.
Everything,
you screwed-up bitch. But I'll be damned before I let you ruin Rachel.”

Ivy's eyes darted to mine, her face tear-streaked and terrified. Her mouth moved but no words came out. My gut twisted when I saw her accept his words as truth. Jenks held the sword to her throat; he was going to use it and Ivy would do nothing to stop him.

Jenks shifted his grip. He pulled the sword back. Ivy looked at me, too lost in guilt to do anything.

“No,” I whispered, panicking. My grasping fingers reached the edge of the van and, feet scrabbling weakly, I pushed myself forward. Jax was in my way, shrilling something and his dragonfly wings sparkling in my darkening vision.

“Jenks, stop!” I cried out, falling out of the van. Ice hard and cold, the pavement hit my shoulder and hip, scraping my cheek. I took a breath that was more like a cry, focusing on the gray pavement as if it was my coming death.
Oh God. Ivy was going to let Jenks kill her.

“Rachel!” There was the clatter of the sword falling, and suddenly Jenks was there, his arms picking me up and cushioning me against the hard ground. Struggling, I focused on him, shocked he was so close. He didn't like anyone touching him.

“It wasn't her fault,” I breathed, focusing on his eyes. They were so green, I forgot what I wanted to say. My breath sounded harsh and my throat hurt. “It wasn't her fault.”

“Shhhh,” he whispered, his brow creasing when I moaned as he hoisted me into his arms and lurched to his feet. “It's going to be all right. You're going to be all right. She's going to leave. You don't have to worry about her again. I won't let any vampire hurt you. I can do this. I'll stay big, and make sure no one hurts you again. It'll be okay. I'll make sure you're safe.”

The vampire saliva was wearing off fast. As he carried me, I could feel a heavy pain starting to take hold and unconsciousness gather. I was cold, and shivers shook me.

Jenks's motion stopped, and he cradled me close as he stood over Ivy. His arms filled with a hard tension. “Leave,” Jenks said. “Get your things and go. I want you out of the church by the time we get back. If you stay, you're going to kill her, just like everyone else stupid enough to love you.”

A sound broke from her, and he walked away, pace fast as he headed for the warm darkness of the motel room.

I couldn't find the air to speak. Ivy's heavy sobs came one after the other. I didn't want her to leave. Oh, God. I had only wanted to show I trusted her. I only wanted to understand her—and myself.

Jenks's shadow fell over me, and I trembled. Tears spilled from me as I saw everything crash down to ruin. I could hear her crying, alone and lost. She was going to leave. She was going to leave because of what I had asked her to do. And as I listened to Ivy crying, alone and guilt-strewn on the pavement, something broke inside. I couldn't lie to myself anymore. It was going to kill me.

“I asked her to bite me,” I whispered. “Jenks, don't leave her there. She needs me. I asked her.” A sob rose in me, hurting as it broke free. “I only wanted to know. I didn't think she'd lose control like that.”

Jenks jerked to a stop under the motel overhang. “Rachel?” he said, bewildered. There was the snap of dragonfly wings, and I wondered how he could carry me if he was a pixy.

I couldn't see Ivy, but her sobs had stopped and I wondered if she had heard me. I choked on my harsh breath. Jenks's shocked eyes were inches from mine. I had promised I wouldn't leave, and I refused to let her run away in guilt. I needed them both. I needed Ivy.

“I had to know,” I whispered, and Jenks's face went panicked. “Please,” I breathed, my vision starting to mercifully darken. “Please get her. Don't leave her alone.” My eyes closed. “I hurt her so badly. Don't let her be alone,” I said, but I didn't know if it made it into words before I passed out.

I
was moving, and it was confusing the hell out of me. I didn't think I was unconscious, and I certainly didn't know what was going on, but someone had their arms around me and I could smell the sharp scent of chlorophyll. Piecing together if I was outside with my eyes shut or inside with my eyes open was beyond me. I was cold, but I'd been cold for forever.

I did recognize the dropping sensation followed by a bed pressing into me. I tried to speak but failed. A wide hand cradled my head, and the pillow under it was pulled away. I sank deeper into the comforter as someone propped up my knees and tucked the pillow under it.

“Stay with me, Rache,” came a voice, accompanied by the smell of fudge, and I tried to remember how to open my eyes. Hands were on me, light and warm. “Don't pass out. Let me get some water in you first, then you can rest.”

My head lolled, accompanied by a pulsing pain in my neck. The voice had been soft, but there was panic under it. The thought of water gave me a name to the feeling I couldn't figure out.
I'm thirsty. Yes, that's what I'm feeling.

I felt sick, and my lids fluttered as I hung in a state too fatigued to move. I remembered this. I had done this before. “Where's Keasley?” I whispered, hearing it come from me in a soft breath of air. No one heard me over the sound of running water.

“Jax, get a straw,” the intent voice said. “In the trash by the TV.”

There was the sound of cellophane crackling, and someone moved my legs to wedge another pillow under them. It was as if a veil dropped away, and suddenly everything had meaning. My eyes opened and reality realigned itself. I was in the motel room. I was on the bed with my feet propped higher than my head. I was cold. Jenks had carried me in, and that winged spot of sunshine hovering by the TV was Jax.

Oh God. I had asked Ivy to bite me.

Taking a deep breath, I tried to sit up.

Jenks abruptly had his hands on me, pressing my shoulder down.
He's got big hands,
I thought, trying to focus.
And warm.

“Not so fast,” he said. “Can you swallow?”

My eyes flicked to the plastic cup in his hand. I licked my lips. I wanted it, but my neck hurt. It hurt bad. “Where's Ivy?” I slurred.

Jenks's expression closed. I focused on his green eyes while the edges of my sight grayed. Nausea tightened my gut. Kisten said she had forgotten control while under Piscary's ungentle touch, possibly killing people in the throes of blood passion. I'd thought she was better. Kisten said she was better. She looked better. Apparently by asking her to divorce her feelings of love from her hunger, I'd taken away what she had used to shackle it. In three minutes I threw her back into the pit of depravity she had struggled so long to escape. I had done it to her. Me.

“I'm sorry,” I said, starting to cry, and he took both my hands in one of his to stop them from moving upward to my neck. “I only wanted to understand. I didn't mean to tip her over the edge. Jenks, don't be mad at her.”

His fingertips brushed the hair from my forehead, but he wouldn't meet my gaze, not yet ready to believe. Though his smooth features looked too young for someone who had adult kids, the deep-set pain born in understanding said he had endured a lifetime of joy and sorrow.

“Let me get some water in you before you pass out,” he said, turning away. “Jax!” he snapped, sounding very unlike himself. “Where's that straw? I don't want her lifting her head.”

“Which one is hers, Dad?” the adolescent pixy said, his voice high in worry.

“It doesn't matter. Just get one!”

The reflected light on the ceiling darkened, and from the open door came a hesitant, “She had the Sprite. And her cup is the one with all the buttons punched in.”

Jax rose three feet in a glittering column of sparkles.

How about that? Those plastic dents are of some use after all.

“Get the hell out of here,” Jenks said, seething. The warmth of his fingers slipped from me as he rose to stand above me.

Guilt hit hard, and I wanted to curl up and die.
What had I done? I couldn't fix this.
All I'd wanted was to understand Ivy, and now I was lying in a motel room with holes in my neck and my two best friends fighting. My life was a pile of shit. “Jenks,” I whispered, “stop.”

“She wants me here,” Ivy came back with immediately. I could tell she was still in the threshold, and she sounded desperate. “It was an accident. I'll never touch her again. I can help. I know what to do.”

“I bet you do,” he said snidely, putting his hands on his hips. Now that he was six-foot-four, it didn't look as aggressive, somehow. “We don't need you! Get out!”

I wished they would figure this out so someone would give me some water. Jax hovered above me, a red straw taller than he was in his grip. Feeling distant and unreal, I made my eyes wide so I could focus on him. “Dad?” the small pixy called, worried, but they weren't listening.

“You little twit,” Ivy snapped. “It was an accident! Didn't you hear her?”

“I heard her.” He left me, his feet silent on the carpet. “She'll say anything you want now, won't she? You bound
her to you! Damn it, Ivy! You weak-willed, jealous sack of vampire spit. You said you could handle this! You promised me you wouldn't bite her!”

His shouting was furious, and I went even colder. What if she
had
bound me to her? Would I be able to tell?

I desperately wanted to turn my head, but Jax was standing on my nose, his bare feet warm, the scent of sugar and wax coming from the drop hanging on the end of the straw. I wanted it, then felt guilty for wanting water when my friends were going to kill each other.

“I'm not going to tell you again, Jenks. Get out of my way.”

There was an intake of breath, and Jax let out a yelp and darted to the ceiling. I heard a grunt followed by a rolling thump. Adrenaline surged, and I pushed myself up, then slumped against the headboard, neck protesting.

They were grappling on the floor, moving too fast for my blood-starved brain to follow. The small end table had been knocked over, and they were a confusing tangle of legs and arms.

“You're a lying, manipulative, vamp-bitch whore!” Jenks shouted, twisting violently out of her grip. She leapt at him from a crouch, and the two crashed to the wall. Jenks moved blindingly fast, flowing out from under her, grabbing her arm and landing atop her back, pinning her to the carpet. My God, he was quick.

“Ow,” Ivy said to the wall, abruptly still with Jenks atop her, her arm held at an awkward angle. His other hand held a dagger to her kidneys.
When had he gotten a dagger?
“Damn it, Jenks,” she said, making a little wiggle. “Get off.”

“Tell me you're going to leave and not come back,” he said, breath fast and blond hair in disarray, “or I'll break your arm. And you're going to stay away from Rachel. Got it? And if I see her trying to get to you because you bound her to you, I'll find you and kill you twice. I'll do it, Ivy. Don't think I can't!”

My mouth went dry and I started to shake. I was going into shock. My hand pressed to my neck was sticky. I
wanted to tell them to stop, but it was all I could do to stay upright.

Ivy wiggled, stiffening when Jenks poked her. “Listen to me, pixy man,” she said, her face turned to the wall. “You're quick, you're fast, and if you stick that into me, I'm going to smack you into the ever-after. I didn't bind her to me. I tried to leave, and she asked me to stay. She wanted to know. Damn it, Jenks, she wanted to know!”

Focus blurring, I tried to pull the bedspread over me, my fingers as strong as string, accomplishing nothing. Jenks started at the movement, realizing I was upright and watching. His angular, beautifully savage face lost its emotion. “You seduced her,” he said, and I dropped my eyes, shamed. All I had wanted was to understand. How could so much go wrong from wanting to understand?

Her cheek pressed against the carpet, Ivy made a helpless bark of laugher. “She seduced me,” she said, and I wavered from the pain and blood loss, knowing it was the truth. “I left, but she called me back. I would have left even then, but she said she wanted this for her. Not for me, but for her. I told you if she ever admitted that, I wouldn't walk away. I didn't lie to you!”

My breathing had quickened, giving me a feeling of disjoined airiness. I was hyperventilating. Jax was flitting over me, trying to dust my bite but only making me squint to see through the sparkles. At least I think the sparkles were from him. God I hurt. I was going to either die or throw up.

Jenks pricked Ivy's sweater with his knife and she jerked. “If you're lying to me—”

Ivy's shoulders lost all their tension, and she surrendered visibly. “I thought I was better,” she said, guilt slamming into me at the pain in her voice. “I worked
so hard,
Jenks. I thought I'd finally—She didn't want…she couldn't handle the sex, so I tried to separate it from the blood. I wanted
something
of her. And she was able to give me the blood. I—I lost control of the hunger again. Damn it, I almost killed her.”

His eyes on me, Jenks let go of her arm. It hit the floor
with a thump. Ivy slowly pulled it into a more comfortable position. “You didn't separate the sex from the blood, you took the love from it,” Jenks said, and I wavered, my pulse hammering.
What had I asked her to do?
“You take that away, and all that's left
is
the hunger.”

My breath came in short splurges as I fought to remain upright. Did everyone know more about vampires than me? Jenks was a pixy, and he knew more about vampires than I did.

“I tried,” Ivy whispered. “She doesn't want me to touch her that way.” She took a shuddering breath, broken.

Jenks flicked a glance at me, seeing my cold face and realizing that she was telling the truth. Slowly he slid off her, and Ivy pulled herself upright, knees to her forehead, arms wrapped about her shins. She took a gasping breath and held it.

“Rachel didn't think it was wrong, did she?” Jenks pressed.

“She said she was sorry for waiting so long,” Ivy whispered as if she didn't believe it. “But she saw the hunger, Jenks. She saw it raw, and I hurt her with it. She's not going to want anything to do with me—knowing that.”

It was a very small voice, vulnerable and afraid, and Jenks watched me, not her. “Why are you trying to hide what you are?” he said softly, his words for both of us. “Do you think seeing your hunger shocked her? Do you think she's so shallow that she'd condemn you for it? That she didn't know it was in you and loved you anyway?”

Ivy shook with her head on her knees, and tears slipped from me. My head hurt and my neck throbbed, but it was nothing compared to my heartache.

“She loves you, Ivy. God knows why. She made a mistake in asking you to separate the love from the hunger, and you made a mistake thinking you could.”

“I wanted what she could give me,” Ivy said, curled up into herself. “Just that much would have been enough. Never again,” she said. “Never, never, Jenks. She's safe. You're right. I destroy everything I touch.”

I struggled to keep from passing out. She wasn't a monster. “Ivy?”

Her head jerked up. Her face was white and tracked with tears. “I thought you were unconscious,” she said, scrambling to her feet and wiping her face.

Blinking, I wavered where I sat. Guilt lay thick on me, and Jenks sat cross-legged by the open door in a patch of sun, a faint, sad smile on him.

She stood in a frozen quandary. “Are you okay?” she asked, clearly wanting to rush over but afraid to. Between the blood loss and the absurdity of the question, I almost laughed.

“Uh-huh,” I said, giving up on trying to have this make sense. “Can I have some water?” I whispered, then tipped over.

My neck sent a stab of pain to shock me and I couldn't breathe; my face was buried in the covers. I tried to cry out but was helpless. Damn it, even my arms wouldn't work.

“Oh God,” Ivy said, her hands cold as she pulled me up. I took a grateful breath, trying to focus through the hurt. Jenks was at my feet, and he tugged them down until I was flat on my back and looking up at them with wide eyes, teetering on unconsciousness again now that the adrenaline had played itself out. The asinine relief that I had shaved my legs lifted through me and was gone.

“Here, Dad,” Jax offered, that red straw in his two-fisted grip.

Jenks grabbed that absurdly small cup of water, never sloshing it as he retrieved it from the nightstand. “She's bleeding again,” he said, his voice and face grim. “Dust her.”

“Don't give her the water yet.” Ivy was a confusing blur as I tried to focus. “I've got something to put in it.”

Struggling to keep from passing out, I watched her snatch up her purse and rummage through it. My stomach clenched when she brought out a small vial. “Brimstone?” I whimpered, waiting for Jenks's protest.

But all I heard was his soft, “Not so much this time.”

Ivy's oval face scrunched in anger as she unscrewed the top. “I know what I'm doing.”

Jenks glared at her. “She's too weak for what you usually
give her. She can't eat enough to support that high a metabolism with all the blood you took out of her.”

“And you know all about that, don't you, pixy?” she said sarcastically.

So much for playing nice.
Tired, I let my eyes shut while they argued, hoping I didn't die in the interim and make the problem moot. I wasn't ever going to get my water. Ever.

“Rachel?”

It was close and direct. Startled, I opened my eyes. Jenks was kneeling beside the bed with that cup and straw in his hand. Ivy was behind him, her arms crossed over her chest, cheeks spotted with red. Anger and worry warred in her expression. I'd missed something. “No Brimstone,” I slurred, my hands rising to push it away. My throat tightened as my emotions swung from one extreme to the next. They were so worried about me.