The Witch with No Name

But even as I met his smile with my own, I ached for Ivy’s guilt. I wasn’t seeing the effect of Brimstone alone. She’d satisfied her hunger for blood, and not just the little sips she’d been allowing herself while making love, but a huge grasping amount that was selfish and demanding. Nina had goaded her into it, and she had succumbed. It would account for Nina’s increased stability as well, which might be reason enough to ignore it but for the little fact that it meant Nina was only exchanging one master for another.

“Ivy,” I tried again, and she turned away.

“Rachel!” Edden boomed, the force behind it honed by years of arguing with thickheaded FIB officers. “How did I do?”

He was grinning, and I couldn’t help but smile back. Catcalls and hoots rose up as I gave him a hug, rocking back and seeing his pleasure in the embarrassed flush on his round face. “I owe you, Edden,” I said, and he smiled all the wider. “Big-time. Don’t ever do it again, okay?”

“It was a calculated risk.” Edden looked out the plate-glass windows, a flicker of spent worry saying he was lying. “Cormel doesn’t want any bad press right now. We just need to travel in packs more often.”

“Or pair your men up with a demon,” I said flippantly.

Edden’s feet scuffed on the painted floor. “Ah, yes. About that.”

Jenks’s wings clattered in the new chill flowing in with the outgoing officers. “Can we go now?”

I nodded, spent adrenaline laying like a heavy coil in my middle as I waved my thanks to Mark. He was behind the counter stoically handing out drink coupons as he refused to make anything despite his being open twenty-four hours a day. Mr. Fish was probably dead from the cold in my cup holder, and I wondered if I dared a warming charm lest I cook him.

“Your folks okay, Ivy?” I asked as Nina all but bolted to the door. I really wanted to talk to her, tell her that one night of hunger was not a failure, but she wouldn’t look at me. Jenks shrugged, his shifting dust telling me he’d figured it out as well. What a pair we were; Ivy had fallen off the wagon and I was harboring mystics again.

“Ah, Rachel . . .” Edden pulled me to walk beside him, and I winced as Ivy strode out the door, her head high and jaw clenched. “Rachel, you talked to the demons,” Edden prompted.

“I’m working on it,” I said as I hesitated before going out. “You should be okay tonight unless someone gets a wild hair up their, ah, yeah.” My voice faltered as Trent breezed past. “It won’t get bad until they know if the sun is going to force them back,” I finished, voice softer.

Edden seemed pleased as he stuck his thick hand out for me to shake. It was rough, with just the right amount of strength, and I felt a moment of connection, of being needed, part of something. “That’s all I can ask for,” he said, making a “wrap it up” motion to get his men out. “Thank you. I’ll have someone get right on your arson case.”

“Thanks.” The welcoming feeling grew as I left and took a deep breath of the good Cincy air not stained with vampire or demon, but smelling of deep river and chill. Cormel’s car wheels crackled and popped over the loose stones on the pavement as they found the street and drove away. The taillights blinked red at a stop sign, and then they were gone.

I shivered, not moving as Trent handed me my bag. My stomach rumbled, and I looked at my hands. They weren’t shaking anymore. The mystics were back. “Ivy?”

Trent was right next to me, and I turned to him. “Trent . . .”

A shiver took me as he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “We have time. All the time in the world.”

“Thanks.” Feeling breathless, I spun. “Ivy!”

She hesitated at her mom’s car, the door already open. Nina grimaced from the other side, and I paced forward, head down as I rummaged in my bag. “Here,” I said, feeling unsure and nervous as I stopped before her. “I, ah, made this for you.”

Behind her, Mark was pushing out the last of the FIB guys, locking up and bolting the door before shutting off the lights. Fingers shaking, I found the cool shape of the tiny bottle. Nina pressed jealously close as I put it in Ivy’s hand, and they both looked at it, the faceted shape catching the buzzing streetlight. “What is it?” Ivy asked, her usual hesitancy where my magic was concerned blunted.

“It’s something to catch your soul in,” I said, curling her cold fingers around it. “Keep it in your pocket.”

Ivy’s head snapped up, and I could have cried at the hope in her eyes.

“Until Felix laughs and means it, I’m not calling this a good thing, but if you have your soul in a bottle, then it’s not in the hell of the ever-after,” I said. “You don’t have to do anything, just keep it within your aura. And don’t open the top once your soul is in there.”

“You did it?” Ivy said, looking at the stop sign where we’d seen Cormel last.