"Pale Demon" - читать интересную книгу автора (Harrison Kim)

Eighteen

I’d already used the glass-and-tile shower in the front bathroom, scrubbing my scalp until it hurt as I worked to get the last vestiges of the burnt-amber stink from my hair. The hotel shampoo smelled far too masculine for me, and I thought it irksome that the management assumed only men would be renting the top floor. But then again, they probably hadn’t expected Trent to blow into town with two women. Fortunately I had some of my own shampoo and detangler, and I was again smelling like strawberries and oranges.

I smiled, settling myself deeper into the bubbles. Yes, I had already showered, but there was nothing like a long soak to prepare oneself for a lynching. Especially when you could watch TV while doing it.

Clicking from the Weather Channel to the news, I set the remote next to my plate of crackers. A half-empty bottle of water stood beside it. The scent of coffee slipped in under the door, telling me that Ivy was up. I felt like a prisoner, even after having been a guest at Alcatraz and knowing what true incarceration felt like. Never again, I thought as I adjusted the towel wrapped around my hair. If I couldn’t beat this, I’d go live with Al.

But I didn’t want to.

My gaze drifted to my heavy-magic detector, the disk a flickering, sickly green. It wasn’t working well, and I couldn’t trust it. I felt like Jenks at five thousand feet. Ley-line magic, too, was messed up because of the ley lines, fractured and broken by the seismic activity. This was why the coven had their convention here. Unless you lived here, you were at a disadvantage and didn’t dare use your magic in a pique of anger or implied insult. Demon magic worked, though, I thought bittersweetly as I extended an arm up and looked at the lack of bruises. That curse Al had given me before sending me back had rubbed out every ache.

The TV detailed California’s latest wildfire, and I stretched out all of my five foot four in the water with room to spare. Fires, mudslides, earthquakes, smog, broken ley lines…Why did anyone live here?

I breathed deeply, my eyes flicking to the short dress that Al had given me. I could still detect a whisper of burnt amber drifting from it as it hung on a wooden hanger on the back of the door, and I was hoping that the moist air might help. Apart from the purple scarf, it was all-white leather from the cap to the boots, supple like butter and having a luster that would show off my curves. I knew without trying it on that it would fit. I didn’t want to know how Al knew my size. Apart from the color, I’d look like Cat-woman. Me-ow.

My first reaction when I had shaken it from the paper wrapping had been “Is he kidding?” No one wears white leather, especially not head to toe. But now, after I’d been looking at it for over an hour, I thought why the hell not? Skimpy as it was, leather did have a small resistance to thrown potions.

There wasn’t a clock in here, but the ticker on the bottom of the news said it was getting late, and I sat up. The water fell from me, creating bubbles, and I stood and reached for a fluffy towel. It felt good not to hurt, and I dried myself off, going over every inch of my smooth, unblemished skin that should be aching and purple from fighting first Ku’Sox and then Al. Demon curses. Better than Band-Aids, and they didn’t wash off in the tub, either.

The TV switched to an on-the-scene reporter, yelling as she tried to be heard over the fire trucks. It was a small warehouse fire on the docks of Seattle. Jenks? I wondered. God, I missed him, and I hoped he was okay. They were supposed to be back by midnight, but I doubted they’d make it. So much for Trent’s promises. I was sure he’d have a pixy dust of an excuse.

Wrapped in a white robe embroidered with the hotel’s initials, I undid my hair and tried to go through it again. I could see the TV in the mirror. The woman was going on and on about numerous minor problems all over Seattle, from an elevator becoming stuck in the needle, to a catfight at the international cat show Seattle was hosting, to hundreds of fender benders that seemed to happen simultaneously across the Seattle area. She was asking everyone to be patient. Apparently the 911 system had been scheduled for maintenance, and the load of calls had crashed the backup.

Jenks, you little devil, I thought with a smile, but then changed my mind. Jenks was good, but he couldn’t be in more than one place at a time. This had all the earmarks of a demon.

My motions to comb the detangler through my damp hair grew rough, and I frowned. All this for a wedding band? I didn’t want to believe that Trent had released a dangerous, day-walking demon to be a friggin’ distraction—even if it was to control the direction of the next elf generation. And since elves had their fingers in everything, everyone was going to feel it. Damn it, Trent, you’d better know what you’re doing.

The knock at the bathroom door made me jump, and I set the comb down with a clatter when Ivy’s voice came through the thick door, saying, “Rachel? Can we talk?”

What did she want? “Give me a minute to get dressed?”

“Sure.” There was a moment, then from deeper in the room, louder but muffled, “Do you want something to eat?”

I reached for my underwear, then hesitated. “You mean like room service?” God, I felt like a prisoner, and in a sudden decision, I took Al’s outfit off the hanger instead. Might as well make sure the dress fit.

“No,” she said, voice softer. “I wouldn’t eat anything they bring up now that they know we’re here. If you don’t want cold cuts or fruit, I’ve got Milk Duds.”

Ivy is the one buying the Milk Duds? “Uh, no thanks.” I zipped up the side zipper on my hip, gratified that nothing pinched or bunched when I bent to put on my socks. “You want to see my go-to-trial outfit?” White. Was he serious?

“Sure.”

She sounded depressed, even through the door, and I became worried as I adjusted the sleeveless top over my bare skin. It laced up the back and had a neckline that would show off what little I had to my best advantage, accentuating instead of hiding what wasn’t there.

“I, uh, had three gallons of syrup sent out to the Petrified Forest,” she said, standing by the door by the sound of it.

“You’re kidding! How?”

She was silent, and I imagined her shrugging. “Internet,” she said shortly. “Jenks’s freedom cost us $275, but most of that was to pay for someone to deliver it.”

I couldn’t help my smile. I hadn’t forgotten my promise to the pixies, but leave it to Ivy to know how to arrange it online.

“Have you given any thought to tomorrow?” Ivy asked, her voice hesitant.

I posed in the mirror, stuck out my chest, then slumped and reached for the boots. They were white, too. “All the time.”

“No, I mean really. Have you thought about tomorrow?”

Sitting on the edge of the tub, I slipped the low-heeled boots on. They fit perfectly, and the zipper was well oiled. My estimation of Al knowing what a girl likes went up. I thought of that kiss of his and squinted. “Ivy, I’m just trying to get through tonight. If I don’t make it, then I’m…” I took a breath as I stood and looked at myself. Damn, I looked good. Like a leather teardrop. “Then I’m in the ever-after,” I finished, slightly depressed.

Fear flared up, and I squashed it. I didn’t want to come out of the bathroom wearing leather and stinking of fear. Ivy was good at resisting temptation, but she wasn’t above taking a lick of frosting from the cake before it was served.

Putting the cap on my head, I looked at my reflection, my hair still damp and my skin still holding the glow from the bath. Maybe I shouldn’t call it fear. Maybe it was dread. My throat became tight, and I sent my gaze to the purple scarf. Purple was how a demon showed pride or favor to its familiars, and it made me feel like it was the first day of school, when you know you’re too chicken to stand up for yourself and you don’t have any friends to rely on—all alone and your mother telling you at the car you’d be okay.

My hand ran across the scarf, feeling it cool and smooth against my fingertips. I couldn’t make myself put it on.

“I’ve been thinking about it,” Ivy said from the other side of the door. “If you have to go, I’m going to shut down the firm.”

Whoa. I pointed the remote to shut off the TV. Flinging open the door, I found Ivy sitting beside the window in the bright light, her back curved and her shoulders slumped. She looked tired. “Why?” I asked as I crossed the room. “You’re great at this. What about Jenks? You just going to leave him alone in the church?”

Ivy’s head came up, and she tossed her hair from her eyes, smiling faintly. Her gaze traveled over me, taking in the leather dress. “I like that,” she said. “You look good in white. And before you get uptight, Jenks will be fine. He’s thinking about going to work for Trent if things go wrong tonight.”

I looked at her, shocked. Work for Trent? “He told you this?”

Shrugging, Ivy pushed back into the chair, every motion screaming of an inner pain. “We’ve talked,” she said, her voice low. “One of the reasons he was so hot to go with Trent today is because he’s trying it on.” Her eyes flicked to mine and held them. “There’s nothing for him in the garden anymore. Especially if you’re gone.”

I was not believing this. “Trent? Are you kidding me?”

Ivy looked out onto the bay. “I know you’re focused on tonight, but in case there isn’t any time to talk before you go…I wanted to let you know that I enjoyed being with you.”

Oh my God. She was saying good-bye. Agitated, I came to stand before her, not knowing what to do with my hands. “I am not dying!” I said, finally sitting down on the edge of the nearest chair and taking my hat off. “I can come back for visits and stuff.”

Her jaw was clenched. “I know.”

She looked at me, and I suddenly realized that this was for real. My eyes filled, and there was a sudden lump in my throat. I wanted to touch her shoulder, but her body language said not to. “I can visit.”

Ivy’s eyes were just as full, but neither of us would let a tear fall. “Let me say this,” she whispered. “Will you just let me say this?”

I put a hand to my middle to try to get it to stop hurting. “Why are you saying good-bye?” I whispered.

She lifted her hands and let them fall. “Because I can’t follow you,” she said suddenly. “I started on this trip two days ago, and it wasn’t until Arizona that I realized I wasn’t doing a damn thing. I was driving, sure, but you don’t need me. You never really did!”

“Yes, I do,” I said quickly, but I shut my mouth when she shook her head.

“Not like I want you to. You’re moving fast, Rachel. And vampires are slow. It’s like you’re from the future, and you’re here trying to yank everyone forward so some of us have a chance to survive what’s coming. You’re leaving Jenks and me behind.”

Anger flared, but it was at the universe, not her. “This demon thing wasn’t my idea!”

“I’m not talking about the coven and shunning. I’m talking about you changing everything.” Ivy crossed her legs and gripped her biceps, looking vulnerable. “The Weres, the elves, the vampires. You’re stirring everything, like a catalyst, and you’re leaving us behind. It’s okay. We’re not mad. Sad maybe, but not mad.” She let go of her arms and met my eyes. “I knew ever since you sealed that room in the tunnels that you and I weren’t going to work even if you woke up some morning and wanted it to. I felt the power of what you could do. I saw it. I saw the fear in Edden’s eyes. It only made me love you more.”

I blinked fast. “And you don’t think I need you? After that? Ivy, it was your soul that protected me.”

She nodded, hiding her face as she wiped her eyes. “You’ll do better once you let us go. Jenks and me both. We’ll be okay.”

My head was shaking in denial. “I’ll beat this, Ivy. I always do.”

Her chin came up. Eyes black, she snapped, “What if you do? You think we can drive back to the church and go on like nothing happened? It won’t work. I can’t pretend anymore that one day you’re going to wake up and be anything different from what you are right now. I’m not talking sex and blood. I’m talking about you and change. How you make it happen and how you adapt to it. Your mind lets you. Jenks and I…we can’t.”

“Ivy.”

“I never had a chance,” she whispered.

“Ivy!” I said louder, and she focused on me.

“I never had a chance,” she said again. “But thank you. I’ve seen what it’s like to be normal. Been a part of a family, even if I was on the fringes.”

I reached over the space between us, touching her. “You’ve never been on the fringes.”

She looked at my hand on her, smiling almost. “I’ve never been in all the way, either, and don’t start thinking that you did me wrong. Hell, Rachel, if I’d gotten all the way in, I would have self-destructed, destroyed myself. You knew that,” she said, and my hand fell away. “I don’t…I didn’t have a way to cope, to accept that I deserve good things. But I feel good right now.”

She smiled, looking at the ceiling as she wiped her eyes again. “Do you know I’d never remembered feeling good before you? Kisten was safe, but you felt good, even when you weren’t around. Even when you were out doing stuff. Even when I was out with one of my blood partners, and I knew that when I came home…” She hesitated. “I knew that you would be there, or would be back soon, and you wouldn’t look at me and hide your disgust at what I am but would let me work it out. You were like a warm finger touching my thoughts, pushing the black down and not letting it rise up. Keeping me sane. I’ve felt good so often that now I can recognize it even when it doesn’t come from you. I can feel good about other people.”

My chest was tight, and I could do nothing but look at her miserable, happy face. Maybe I should let her go.

My expression must have shown my thoughts, because Ivy smiled even as a tear leaked out and she wiped it away. “I wanted to say thank you before Jenks and Trent get back and things start to happen. I know I can find the good again, now that I know what it feels like. I can recognize it. Keep from destroying it.” She touched my knee, and I blinked back my own tears. “I can’t ever repay you for that. It’s more than I ever thought I’d find. Thank you.”

“You’re killing me, Ivy,” I croaked, throat so tight it hurt.

“Payback is hell, isn’t it?”

I tried to say something, failing.

“Just say you’re welcome,” Ivy said, standing up to look out the window at nothing.

There were lots of things I wanted to say, and none of them was “You’re welcome.” I wanted to say that I was going to lick this. That nothing was going to change. That this was just a bump. But when my gaze focused past her and found the blocky gray shape of Alcatraz, I didn’t know if it was true. Feeling a sense of mild panic, I stood.

Ivy turned. Looking at me, she leaned in and gave me a hug. I held my breath so I wouldn’t start crying, so I didn’t breathe in her soothing vampire scent, but I knew it was there. My arms went around her, and I had a fleeting thought that she felt small for such a big person.

Reluctantly Ivy let go and dropped back. “I hope you get your shunning rescinded. I hope we drive back, taking our time and actually sleeping. I hope that nothing changes. But even if we can make all those things happen, let me go. Right now. I need to move on and find something good that I can hold on to.”

I stared at her black eyes. She’d come a long way. We’d never have been able to have this conversation last year. “But—”

She leaned in, taking my face in her cool hands. “This is good-bye, Rachel.”

Oh, shit.

I knew what was going to happen, and I let it. Ivy’s lips met mine, and my eyes closed. My heart gave a thump. Her lips moved against me, tasting lightly of coffee. All the tension that had been winding up in me unraveled in a rush of endorphins, followed by a spark of adrenaline, glowing through me like pixy dust.

For the first time, there was no fear from her vampire teeth, no worry of the promise of ecstasy and danger she held. She was just Ivy, and her hand slipped to my waist, pulling a ribbon of feeling through me. My blood rose, pounding, responding to her touch. She smelled like incense and soap. She held me to her without binding, without promise, only passion in her embrace. Her mouth was soft, unbelievably soft.

Blood humming, I felt her tongue whisper against me and her grip quiver against my jaw as the scent of her tears lit through me. Salt and blood. Oh so close, and my own closed eyes spilled over as my body ached. She began to pull away, I realized I was tasting what I could have had—but now was gone. And it hurt.

Feeling it, Ivy let go. I blinked, trying not to cry. Even as she stood there, I’d lost her. Even though she’d never been mine, now she was gone. I didn’t want anything to change, but I couldn’t stop it. She was right, even if everything went perfectly tonight, nothing would be the same tomorrow.

“You’re not leaving me,” she said, her eyes damp. “I’m leaving you.”

The knock at the door shocked both of us, and I stifled my jerk when Ivy turned to it with her vampire-quick reflexes. I wasn’t thinking, the heat of that kiss still aching. She looked at me, her soft smile the last thing I would have expected from her right now.

“I’ll get it,” she said, motions like an old jazz song as she drifted past me in a wave of happy vampire.

“Damn it, what’s wrong with you, Ivy?” I said, shaking.

“Nothing. I feel good. Hell of a good-bye kiss.”

Good-bye kiss. God, she had me in the ever-after already. “Whoever it is, don’t let them in,” I said, wiping my eyes. “And we’re not done talking here.”

“Yes, we are,” Ivy said as she looked through the peephole. “It’s your mother. And some guy with red hair.”

“Robbie?” I jumped up and started for the door. “Let me see,” I said as I got close, and she shifted away.

In the hallway, looking anxious in a yellow sundress and a straw hat, was my mother. Beside her was Robbie, his hair slicked back and a pleasant expression on his face. “It’s my mom!” I said, reaching to open the door. It cracked open, and then it slammed shut, slipping right out of my grip.

I turned to Ivy, and I heard my mother huff through the door. “Ivy!” I protested, her black eyes setting me back a step.

“That’s not your mom,” she said, and I got cold.