A Fistfull of Charms(84)

“Ivy, I’m sorry,” I said, my pulse quickening in guilt. “You…Oh God, tell him you changed your mind. We’ll figure something out.”
Close beside me, Ivy gave me an unreadable look, her hands on Jenks’s shoulders, her oval face empty of emotion. “I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t prepared to follow through.”
“Ivy—”
“Shut up!” she shouted, startling me. “I want to do it, okay? I can’t touch anything without killing it, so I’m going to go back to things that are already dead! I’m doing this for me, not you! I’m going to enjoy myself, so just shut the hell up, Rachel!”
Face hot, my mouth fell open. It had never occurred to me she might want to. “I…I thought you only shared blood with people you—”
“Yeah, I tried that, didn’t I. It didn’t work. If I can’t have you, I may as well go back to the way I was. Shut. Up.”
I shut up. I didn’t know what to think. Was she saying that to make me feel less guilty, or was she serious? She had damn well looked like she knew what she was doing, wrapped around DeLavine like that. I couldn’t believe she really meant it. Not after her confession only an hour old. Apparently we were both going places we didn’t want to—me forward and her back. “Ivy?” I said, but she wouldn’t look at me.“Jenks,” she said, spots of color showing on her cheeks. “Wake up.”
His breathing quickened, and it was no surprise when his smooth features scrunched in hurt. Eyes still closed, he reached for his head. Nick had come out of the kitchen, standing to look like a fifth wheel beside the TV, arms crossed over his faded T-shirt. Rex was having a field day, purring and rubbing on everyone, clearly happy we were on her level.
“Ow,” Jenks said when his fingertips found the bump, and his eyes flew open. “You hit me!” he shouted, and Ivy let go. He fell against the couch, anger in his green eyes until he saw me beside him, probably looking as bad as I felt. His gaze shot to the empty table, then searched until he found the statue. “Holy crap, what did I miss?” he said.
“Sorry.” Ivy stood and offered him a hand up. “He would have killed you.”
So she hit him and risked giving him a concussion? Yeah, that made sense.
His gaze went to me, and my breath caught at the fear in it. “Are you all right? Did he touch you?”
“Of course he touched me,” I said, getting to my feet and wavering until I found my balance. “He’s an undead vampire. They can’t look without touching. They can’t not touch. I’m a freaking vampire candy cane and they all want a lick.”
“Damn it all to hell!” Jenks rose, touching the back of his head when it probably protested at the quick motion. “Stupid pixy. Stupid green-assed, moss-wipe, thumb up my ass pixy! You knocked me out cold, Ivy!”
“Jenks,” I protested, “leave her alone.” But he wasn’t mad at her, he was mad at himself.
“Tagged by a whiny little vamp,” he said, gesturing. “Rache, take this sword and stick it in me. Just go and stick it in me. I’m a back-drafted, crumpled-winged, dust-caked, dew-assed excuse of a backup. Worthless as a pixy condom. Taken down by my own partner. Just tape my ass shut and let me fart out my mouth.”
I blinked, impressed. Rex was twining about my feet, and needing some comfort, I picked her up. Immediately she jumped to the couch and bounced to Jenks, stretching against his leg. The pixy yelped when she flexed her claws into him, and the kitten skittered under the bed.
“Look! She drew blood. Rache! Your damn orange cat scratched me. I’m bleeding!”
“Rex!” Jax shouted, coming out from behind the top of the curtain. “Dad, you scared her! Rex, are you okay?” He darted under the bed after her.
“That is so unsafe,” I muttered. Tired, I hobbled to the kitchen to get away from Jenks, who had collapsed onto the bed and was holding his leg as if Rex had hit a femoral vein. I jerked to a stop before I ran into Nick. “Hi, Nick,” I muttered, hitting the k with an excess amount of force. “Get out of my way. I have a lot to do before I kill Peter and Ivy goes on her big date.” 
His long face worried, he took a breath to say something. I wasn’t going to listen. I owed him nothing. Feeling like I was eighty years old, I shambled around him.
“I can help,” he said, and I dropped into one of those nasty kitchen chairs, put my elbows on the table and slumped forward. I was tired, hungry, and ticked. I had completely lost control of my life. It wasn’t a simple snag and drag anymore. No, now I had to save the world from my former boyfriend and my roommate from herself. What the hell. Why not?
Ivy had gotten my bags from where she dropped them by the front door. Silent and clearly embarrassed, she set them on the table, making a show of putting Peter’s swab before me. Jenks had apparently decided he wasn’t bleeding to death, and with his very lack of movement, pulled my attention to him.
Standing, he first looked at the artifact, then flicked his gaze at Nick. I nodded, understanding. With a casual slowness, Jenks picked up the artifact and limped forward. My eyes were on Nick from around the curtain my fallen curls made.
My stomach caved in when Nick watched Jenks without appearing to. He wanted it. He still wanted to snatch it from us and sell it to the highest bidder, even if it would mean I’d have to go into hiding to keep the Weres from tracking me down and killing me for it. Whether he would or not was still unanswered, but he was considering it. Son of a bitch.
The vamp-bloodied artifact was set thumping down in front of me, and Jenks pulled the bags closer to indulge his pixy curiosity. “Catnip?” he said, pulling it out and opening it.
“It’s for Rex,” Ivy volunteered, suddenly sounding shy, of all things.
A grin flashed over Jenks, and he made a soft trill of a whistle. Immediately Jax buzzed out from under the bed. “Catnip!” the small pixy shouted, grabbing a handful and darting away.
“Oh, hey! Fudge!” Jenks exclaimed, finding the half-pound box I had bought to replace what he’d lost. “Is this mine?” he asked, green eyes alight.
I nodded, trying to stifle my anger at Nick. Jenks enthusiastically leaned against the counter and opened the box. Bypassing the plastic knife, he broke off about a third of it and took a huge bite. Ivy watched, appalled, and I shrugged. His mouth moving as he hummed, Jenks finished unpacking the sacks. I was half dead, Ivy was whoring herself to keep me safe, but Jenks was okay as long as he had chocolate.
It was getting tight in the tiny kitchen, but I didn’t want either of them to leave. I felt cold and vulnerable, and the closeness was helping me distance myself from the play DeLavine had made for me. Inside I was shaking for what Ivy was doing for me—what she was falling back into—and if they left, it would start to show in my fingers.
“Rachel?” Nick said from the outskirts. “Can I help?”
Ivy bristled, but I stretched across the table and handed him a swab. “I need a sample,” I said. “It’s an illegal charm, but I didn’t think you’d mind.”
Face tight with frustration, he took it, turning away when he ran the cotton around the inside of his mouth. I remembered what DeLavine had said about so many people having marked me and squelched a feeling of shame. I didn’t belong to anyone. But seeing Nick unable to enter the comfort I had found among my friends, I felt my Inderlander roots hard and strong.
Nick didn’t understand. He never would. I’d been stupid thinking I could find anything lasting with him, and he had proved it by having no problem selling slivers of me to Al.
I wouldn’t look at him when Nick handed me the swab, safely back in its cellophane wrapper. He moved as if to speak and I blurted to Ivy, “Piscary won’t mind you helping Peter, will he?” Eyes down, I wrote Nick’s name on the packet with a squeaky, big black marker.“No.” The sound of water trickling into the coffeemaker blurred her voice. “Piscary doesn’t care one way or the other. Peter isn’t important to him. To anyone. To anyone but his scion, anyway. It’s likely that he’ll simply fade from DeLavine’s awareness when he’s distracted by more exciting things.”
Like you? I thought, but I didn’t say it aloud.
Ivy turned, her black hair swinging to show her earrings. “I’m making coffee,” she said. “Do you want some?”
Not if it was laced with Brimstone. Crap on toast, I was tired. “Please,” I said, feeling Nick’s gaze heavy on me.
“Jenks?” she offered, getting a tiny hotel mug down from the bare cupboard.
Jenks looked appraisingly into the box of fudge, hesitating before he closed it and set it aside. “No thanks,” he said, starting to mess with my spelling supplies.
“Rachel,” Nick tried again. “Can I sketch a pentagram for you or something?”
Ivy’s head came up, and I moved my fingers to tell her I could handle it. “No,” I said shortly, pulling my demon book closer and opening it up. My eyes lifted to the artifact, wondering if Nick had had the opportunity to switch it out with a fake, but I didn’t think so. And there couldn’t be two such ugly things.
“Ray-ray—” Nick tried again, and Ivy slammed the cupboard.