A Fistfull of Charms(70)

“I’ll be outside,” I said, seeing an empty bench in the middle of the open-air mall. Jenks mumbled something, and I leaned into the glass door, glad it moved easily. The air smelled like fudge and water, and with slow steps I made a beeline for the bench before the young family with ice cream cones could reach it.
I exhaled as I settled myself on the wooden bench. The wind was light in the protected area, and the sun was warm. I breathed deeply, pulling in the scent of the marigolds behind me. It was right on the cusp of being able to plant annuals up there, but they would be sheltered from frost, being surrounded by so much stone.
Though the tourist season hadn’t officially started, it was busy. People with colorful sacks drifted aimlessly in a contented pattern of idle amusement that was comforting to see, humans mostly, with the odd witch making a statement with his or her dress. It was hard to tell who was who otherwise—unless you got close enough to smell them.
The sound of unseen pixy wings was a soft, almost subliminal hum. My hands drifted up to my scent amulet, making sure it was touching my skin. I knew I shouldn’t have been out there alone, but I was under two disguises. What were the chances the Weres would even be looking for me here? And if they were, they would never recognize me.
I glanced up when the shop door opened and Jenks came out, squinting in the brighter light until he put his shades on. The top of that hat poked out from the bag he carried, and I smiled. His head turned to the end of the mall where we had parked Kisten’s Corvette. It was obvious he wanted to hustle me over there and get me home, but upon seeing me slumped in fatigue, he came to a silent standstill above me. Slowly I drew my head up.
“Are you—” Jenks started.
“I’m fine,” I lied, wanting to pluck my turtleneck off my stitches. Jax had used dental floss, but they still pulled on the fabric. “The couch left me tight, is all.”
He grinned, sitting down cross-legged on the bench as if it was a toadstool. Jenks had slept in the van last night so neither Ivy nor I had to. Hell, I didn’t even want to ride in it again—which was probably why Ivy had taken a cab across the straits to get Nick’s truck.
“I was going to ask you if you were hungry and wanted a hamburger,” he said, squinting, “but I like your idea better. I could go for a little scuffle. Loosen up. Get the blood flowing.”
I hated feeling weak. Taking a weary breath, I straightened. “Jenks, sit like a man. That was cute when you were four inches tall, but now you look prissy.”Immediately he put his feet on the ground, knees together and a worried look on him. Puffing the hair from my eyes, I gave up and rolled my turtleneck down. So I had been bitten by a vamp. Lots of people were. “That doesn’t look much better,” I said.
“Well, how the hell am I supposed to sit!” he exclaimed.
Lacing my fingers over my head, I stretched carefully, feeling the stitches pull. Kisten’s bracelet shifted to my elbow to make a cold spot of metal against my skin. “Have you seen Kisten slouch in the kitchen?”
With a hesitant slowness that could have been provocative, Jenks extended his legs. Lean in his tight jeans, he slumped until his neck rested atop the back of the bench. His arms went out to run along the length of the worn wood and his feet spread suggestively.
Oh—my—God. Flushing, I sat up straight. “Yeah,” I said faintly. “That’s better.” Fifty-four kids. Fifty-four kids. And where was that camera he was going to buy for me?
“Give me a minute to catch my breath,” I said, sneaking glances at him. “Then we can head to the car. I need a few more things to make the demon spell, but I’m too tired to do it now.” It grated on me to admit it, but it was kinda obvious.
Jenks sat up with a little grunt, rummaging in a pocket of his coat to bring out a folded napkin. “Here,” he said, handing it to me. “Ivy said you might be stupid enough to leave the motel, and if you did to give you this.”
Irritation filled me, and I unfolded it to find one of her Brimstone cookies. “Damn it, Jenks!” I hissed, folding it up and glancing at the passing people. “You want to see me in jail?”
He smirked. “Then eat it and get rid of the evidence. Tink’s a Disney whore, Rache, you’re worse than my kids. You need it. It’s medicinal. Just eat the damned cookie.”
I felt it light in my hand, thinking it wasn’t as simple as he made it out to be. The only reason I was out here was because the dose I’d taken before bed had woken me with the jitters. ’Least, I was blaming it on that. I felt like crap, though, so I opened it up and nibbled a corner.
Immediately Jenks’s posture relaxed. I followed his gaze across the busy plaza to the hanging planters, finally spotting the pixies. They were chasing a hummingbird off, their ferocity surprising me. It was too early for fairies to be back from Mexico, and with a little practice, the pixies might be able to hold the plaza when they migrated up.
The silence grew as I broke off a second corner off Ivy’s cookie and guiltily ate it. I hated being on Brimstone, but I hated being flat on my back more. There had to be another way, I thought. But it would shorten my fatigued state from three weeks to three days. It wasn’t magic, but it was close. I could actually feel the drug taking hold, making my pulse quicken and the slight trembling of my fingers disappear. No wonder this stuff was illegal. 
Jenks was quiet, watching the passing people with interest while he waited for my strength to return. I didn’t have a dad to talk stuff over with, and my mom was too far away. Jenks was a heavy third of our firm; what he thought mattered. I took a breath, worried about what he might say after I told him what really had me out there, running from my thoughts.
I’d done some thinking that morning, hunched over the sink and squinting into the shower-fogged mirror to inspect my new stitches and scraped face. The tears were small and harmless looking, nothing like the savage rips Al had given me—but they forced me to question how long I had been pushing Ivy into biting me—’cause this hadn’t come out of nowhere. So while the shower ran from hot to cold, I sat on the edge of the tub with a towel wrapped around myself, shaking and almost physically ill with the thought that Ivy had been right about at least part of it. All it had taken was a brush with death for me to admit it.
So maybe I had wanted her to bite me even before I moved in with her. That did mean I needed a subliminal feeling of danger to become passionate. Nobody was that screwed up.
“Thanks for helping me,” I said, trying to work up to what I wanted to say. “With Ivy.”
Jenks shrugged. Shifting position, he pulled himself together and watched the pixies with a professional interest. “What was I supposed to do? Walk away?”
I looked at my half-eaten cookie. Nick might have. Nick almost did the first time I had goaded Ivy into trying to bite me. Until I said no to her and she insisted. Then he stepped in to help. Looking back on the incident, it seemed obvious I had been jonesing for a bite.
“Sorry,” I said, thinking of how tenuous I’d made everything. “I wasn’t thinking.”
Making a rude snort, he crossed his legs. “Do tell, Miss witch princess,” he said. “Ivy was handling it, and you go and get curious, tipping her into all but killing you. Bloody hell! When are you going to stop being afraid of yourself?”
I ate a bite of cookie, a big one this time. “I’m scared,” I said after I forced it down, dry.
“We’re fine,” Jenks said loudly, his eyes on the hanging flowers and clearly not knowing where my thoughts were. “We’re all fine. Ivy said she isn’t going to bite you again. We’ll go out for pizza at Piscary’s when we get home, and everything will return to normal. You’re safer now than your first night spent under the same roof.”
I put the last of the cookie in my mouth, nervously folding the crumbs up into the napkin. Jenks was probably right about Ivy never again initiating a bite between us. But she hadn’t initiated the first one either. The thing was, I didn’t want everything to return to normal.
Jenks swiveled to face me. “Ah, you are too scared to let her bite you again, right?”
A slow breath slipped past my lips and adrenaline zinged through me, pushed by fear. It was a feeling I was beginning to understand. I didn’t need fear to feel passion. I didn’t.
“Crap on my daisies,” Jenks breathed. “You aren’t. Rache…”
Frightened, I shifted to put my elbows on my knees, wadding the napkin up and squishing it as if it was my shame. “I’m in trouble,” I whispered. “She didn’t bind me, but she may as well have.”
“Rache…” It was soft and pensive, and it ticked me off.
“Just listen, will you?” I snapped, then slumped back, squinting into the sun as I looked at nothing. My throat was tight, and I shoved the napkin in a pocket. “I…I learned something about myself. And I’m scared it’s going to kill me if I ignore it. It’s just…God! How could I be that blind about myself?”“It might be the vamp pheromones,” Jenks coaxed. “You aren’t necessarily attracted to women just because you want to sleep with Ivy.”
My eyes widened and I turned to him, shocking myself that he was still wearing that disguise and only his eyes looked like him. “I don’t want to sleep with Ivy!” I said, flustered. “I’m straight. I…” I took a deep breath, afraid to admit it aloud. “I want to try to find a blood balance with her.”