A Fistfull of Charms(71)

“You what?” Jenks blurted, and I sent my gaze to the people around us to remind him we weren’t alone. “She would have killed you!” he said, hushed now, but no less intense.
“Only because I asked her to ignore her feelings for me.” Flustered, I tucked a wayward strand of hair behind an ear. “Only because I let her bite me without the buffer of emotion that she uses to control her hunger.”
Jenks leaned closer, his curls flashing blond in the sun for an instant as his disguise charm bobbled. “But you’re straight,” he said. “You just said you were.”
Blushing, I pulled the bag that had the fudge in it closer. Hunger gnawed at my middle—thanks to the Brimstone—and I dug for the little white box. “Yeah,” I said, uncomfortable as I remembered her gentle touch on me growing intimate when she misunderstood. “But after yesterday, it’s pretty obvious she can share blood without the sex.” I darted a look at him, even as a shiver rose through me, unstoppable, at the reminder of how good it had felt.
“And she almost killed you trying,” Jenks protested. “Rache, she is still messed up, and this is too much, even for you. She can’t do it. You’re not physically or mentally strong enough to keep her under control if she loses it again.”
I hunched in worry, hiding my concern in trying to get the taped box open. “So we go slow,” I said, wrenching the thin white cardboard to no avail. “Work up to it, maybe.”
“Why?” Jenks exclaimed softly, his brow pinched in worry. “Why risk it?”
At that, I closed my eyes in a slow rueful blink. Crap. Maybe Ivy was right. Maybe this was just another way to fill my life with excitement and passion. But then I remembered our auras mixing, the desperation her soul was drowning in, and how I had eased her pain—if only for an instant.
“It felt good, Jenks,” I whispered, shocked to find my vision blurring with unshed tears. “I’m not talking about the blood ecstasy. I’m talking about my being able to fill that emotional void she has. You know her as well as I do, maybe better. She aches with it. She needs to be accepted for who she is so badly. And I was able to do that. Do you know how good that felt? To be able to show someone that, yes, you are someone worth sacrificing for? That you like them for their faults and that you respect them for their ability to rise above them?” 
Jenks was staring at me, and I sniffed back the tears. “Damn,” I whispered, terrified all of a sudden. “Maybe it is love.”
Reaching slowly, Jenks took the box of fudge from me. Twisting to a pocket, he flipped open a knife and cut the tape. Still silent, he handed me the open box and tucked the knife away. “Are you sure about this?” he asked worriedly.
I nodded, cutting a slab of fudge off with that stupid little plastic knife they put in with it. “God help me if I’m wrong, but I trust her. I trust her to find a way to make it work and not kill me in the process. I want it to work.”
He fidgeted. “Have you considered this might be a knee-jerk reaction to Nick?” he said. “Are you trusting Ivy now because Nick hurt you and you simply want to trust somebody?”
I exhaled slowly. I’d already mulled that around in my head, trying it on and dismissing it. “I don’t think so,” I said softly.
Jenks reclined against the bench, pensive. Thoughtful myself, I put the bite of fudge in my mouth and let it dissolve. It was butterscotch in salute to Ivy’s new “allergy,” but I hardly tasted it. Silent, I handed him the box of candy.
“Well,” Jenks said, ignoring the knife and just breaking off a piece. “At least you aren’t doing this because of your oh-so-endearing need to mix danger with passion. At least it better not be, or I’ll pix you from here to the day you die for using Ivy like that.”
Endearing need… My neck throbbed when I jerked upright, choking as I swallowed. “I beg your pardon?”
He looked at me, eyebrows high and the sun glinting on his disguise-black hair. “You do the damnedest things in order to rile yourself up. Most people settle for doing it in an elevator, but not you. No, you have to make sure it’s a vampire you’re playing kissy-face with.”
Heat washed through me, pulled by anger and embarrassment. Ivy had said the same thing. “I do not!”
“Rache,” he cajoled, sitting up to match my posture. “Look at yourself. You’re an adrenaline junkie. You not only need danger to make good in the bedroom, you need it to get through your normal day.”
“Shut up!” I shouted, giving him a backhanded thwack on his shoulder. “I like adventure, that’s all.”
But he laughed at me, eyes dancing in delight as he broke off another chunk of fudge. “Adventure?” he said around his full mouth. “You keep making stupid decisions that will get you into just enough trouble that there might be the chance you can’t get yourself out of. Being your safety net has been more fun than all my years at the I.S.”
“I do not!” I protested again.
“Look at yourself,” he said, head bowed over the fudge box again. “Look at yourself right now. You’re half dead from blood loss, and you’re out shopping. These disguises look great, but that’s all they are: thin sheets of maybe standing between you and trouble.”
“It’s the Brimstone,” I protested, taking the box of fudge out of his hands and closing it up. “It makes you feel indestructible. Makes you do stupid things.”
He glanced from the white box to me. “Brimstone doesn’t have you out here,” he said. “It’s your recurring lame-decision patterns that have you out here. Living in a church with a vampire, Rache? Dating a guy who summons demons? Bumping uglies with a vampire? Those caps Kisten wears won’t mean crap if he loses control, and you know it. You’ve been flirting with being bitten for the last year, putting yourself in situation after situation where it might happen, and the first time you get Ivy out of Piscary’s influence, what do you do? Manipulate her into it. You’re an adrenaline addict, but at least you’re making money off it.”“Hey!” I exclaimed, then lowered my voice when two passing women glanced at us. “Ivy had something to do with yesterday.”
Jenks shrugged, extending his legs and clasping his hands behind his head. “Yeah. She did come up here after you. ’Course, I think part of that was her knowing you might take the opportunity after you did jumping jacks in Kisten’s sweats. It didn’t take much convincing on her part to bite you, did it? Nah, you were primed and ready to go, and she knew it.”
Damn it, he was laughing at me. My brow furrowed, and I shoved the fudge back in a bag and out of his reach. I was not that stupid. I did not live my life trying to get into trouble just so I could have a good time in bed.
“I always have a good reason for the things I do,” I said, peeved. “And my decisions don’t hinge on what might put excitement in my life. But since I quit the I.S., I’ve never had the chance to make good decisions—I’m always scrambling just to stay alive. Do you think I don’t want the little charm shop? The husband and two-point-two kids? A normal house with the fence and the dog that digs up my neighbor’s yard and chases their cat into a tree?”
Jenks’s gaze was even and calm, wise and even a bit sad. The wind ruffled his hair, and the sound of the pixies grew obvious. “No,” he said. “I don’t think you do.” I glared, and he added, “I think it would kill you quicker than going to see Piscary wearing gothic lace. I think managing to find a blood balance with Ivy is going to be the only way you’re going to survive. Besides…” He grinned impishly. “…no one but Ivy will put up with the things you need or the crap you dish out.”
“Thanks a hell of a lot,” I muttered, slumping with my arms crossed over my chest. Depressed, I stared at the pixies, then did a double take when I realized they’d killed the hummingbird and were gathering the feathers. Crap, pixies were wicked when threatened. “I am not that hard to live with.”
Jenks laughed loudly, and I glanced at him, drawn by the different sound. “What about your upcoming demand to be free to sleep with whoever you damn well please while sharing blood with her, knowing she’d rather have you sleep with her?” he asked.
“Shut up,” I said, embarrassed because that was one of the things I had on my list to talk to Ivy about. “She knows I’m never going to sleep with her.”
The man passing us turned, then whispered something to his girlfriend, who promptly eyed me as well. I grimaced at them, glad I was wearing a disguise.
“It takes an incredibly strong person to walk away from someone they love,” Jenks said, holding up two fingers as if making a list. “Especially knowing they will do something asinine, like shopping when their blood count is so low they ought to be in the hospital. You should give her credit for respecting you like that.” 
“Hey,” I exclaimed, annoyed. “You said she wouldn’t mind.”
Grinning, he slid down a few feet. “Actually I said what she doesn’t know won’t hurt you.” He put up a third finger. “You leave windows open when the heat is on.”