“Yeah?” I shot back, and she went to the van’s tiny sink and plugged in the electric kettle. “Let’s take a look at my track record. I live in a church with a vampire who is the scion of a master vampire who would just as soon see me dead.”
Saying nothing, Ivy got out an envelope of cocoa so old it was stiff with moisture.
“I date her old boyfriend,” I continued bitterly, “who used to be said master vampire’s scion, and my ex-boyfriend is a professional thief who calls demons and trades information about me for tips to steal artifacts that can start an Inderland power struggle. There’s something wrong when you trust people who can hurt you so badly.”
“It’s not that bad.” Ivy turned with the chipped mug in her hand, head down as she broke chunks of cocoa against the side of the mug with an old spoon.
“Not that bad?” I said with a bark of laughter. “It’s been hidden for five thousand years. Piscary is going to be majorly pissed, along with every master vampire in every city on the entire freaking planet! If we don’t do this right, they’re all going to be rapping on my door.”
“I wasn’t talking about that. I meant about you trusting people who can hurt you.”
I flushed, suddenly wary of her, standing over there at the end of the van in the dark. “Oh.”
The water from the kettle started to steam, blurring her features as it rose. “You need the thrill, Rachel.”
Oh God. I stiffened, glancing at the closed door.
Ivy’s posture shifted irritably, and she flowed into motion. “Get off it,” she said, setting the mug on the tiny counter space and unplugging the kettle. “There’s nothing wrong with that. I’ve watched you ever since we partnered in the I.S. Every guy who tried to date you, you drove away when you found out the danger was only in your imagination.”
“What has that got to do with Nick selling me out to a demon?” I said, my voice a shade too loud for prudence.
“You trusted him when you shouldn’t have so you could find a sense of danger,” she said, her expression angry. “And yes, it hurts that he betrayed that trust, but that’s not going to stop you from looking for it again. You’d better start picking where you find your thrills a little better, or it’s going to get you killed.”
Flustered, I put my back to the wall of the van. “What in hell are you talking about?”
Ivy turned to face me. “Being alive isn’t enough for you,” she said. “You need to feel alive, and you use the thrill of danger to get it. You knew Nick dealt in demons. Yes, he overstepped his bounds when he traded information about you to them, but you were willing to risk it because the danger turned you on. And once you get over the pain, you’re going to trust the wrong person again—just so you can find a jolt in that it might all go bad.”
I was afraid to speak. The scent of cocoa rose as she poured hot water into the mug. Afraid she might be right, I considered it, looking over my past. It would explain a lot. All the way back to high school. No. No freaking way. “I do not need a feeling of danger to get turned on,” I protested hotly.
“I’m not saying that’s bad,” she said neutrally. “You’re a threat, and you need the same. I know, because I live it. All vampires do. That’s why we keep to our own but for cheap thrills and one-night stands. Anyone less a risk than ourselves isn’t enough to keep up, keep around, keep alive, or understand. Only those born to it are capable of understanding. And you.”I didn’t like this. I didn’t like it at all. “I have to go,” I said, shifting my weight to stand.
The palm of her hand flashed out, hitting the side of the van to bar my way and stop me cold. “Face it, Rachel,” she said when I looked up, frightened. “You’ve never been the safe, nice girl next door, despite everything you do to be that person. That’s why you joined the I.S., and even there you didn’t fit in, because, knowing it or not, you were a possible threat to everyone around you. People sense it on some level. I see it all the time. The dangerous are attracted by the lure of an equal, and the weak are afraid. Then they avoid you, or go out of their way to make your life miserable so you’ll leave and they can continue deluding themselves that they’re safe. You trusted Nick knowing he might betray you. You got off on the risk.”
I swallowed a surge of denial, remembering the misery of high school and my history with bad boyfriends. Not to mention my idiotic decision to join the I.S., and then my even more idiotic attempt to quit when Denon started giving me crap runs and the thrill was taken away. I knew I liked dangerous men, but saying it was because I was equally dangerous was ludicrous…or would have been if I hadn’t just spent yesterday as a wolf/witch hybrid courtesy of a demon curse that my blood kindled, and I now sat in a brand-new Rachel skin with no freckles or wrinkles.
“So you’re a threat,” Ivy said, the scent of cocoa rising between us as she sat on the boxes across from me. “So you need the rush of possible death to keep your soul awake and turn you on. That’s not bad. It just says you’re one powerful bitch, whether you know it or not.” Tilting forward, she handed me the chipped mug. “Dangerous doesn’t always equal untrustworthy. Drink your cocoa and get over it. Then find someone to trust who’s worth trusting you back.”
Jaw clenched, I looked at the mug in my grip. It was for me? I had made her cocoa the night Piscary had raped her: mind, body, and soul. I pulled my eyes up her tight jeans and her long shapeless black sweater that hung mid-thigh.
“That’s why I wait,” she whispered when our eyes met.
I took a hasty breath when I realized the unseen scar beneath my new skin was tingling.
Ivy must have sensed it, for she stood. “I’m sorry,” she said, reaching for the door.
“Ivy, wait.” What she’d told me scared me, and I didn’t want to be alone. I had to figure this out. Maybe she was right. Oh God, was I really that screwed up?
Her long fingers gripped the handle, ready to pull the door open. “The van stinks of us both,” she said, not looking at me. “I should be good for a few days more, but the stress…I’ve got to get out of here. I’m sorry—damn it.” She took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, but I can’t comfort you without my blood lust getting in the way.” She looked up at me, her smile faint and carrying old pain. “Not much of a friend, am I?”
Without getting up, I fumbled my fingers past the curtain of the window above me and pushed the bottom out to open it. My heart pounded, and I took in the pine-scented air and hush of the passing traffic. “You’re a good friend. Does that help?” I asked in a small voice.
Ivy shook her head. “Come back to the room. Jenks will drag Nick in soon. We can all watch a movie and pretend nothing happened. It should be tremendously awkward. Tons of fun. I’ll be fine as long as I don’t sit next to you.”
Her expression was calm, but she sounded bitter. My face scrunched up and I curved my fingers around the warmth of the cocoa. I didn’t know what to think, but I was very sure I didn’t want Nick to know he had made me cry. “You go. I’ll come in when my eyes aren’t so red.”
I felt a sense of loss when Ivy stepped out of the van and then turned with her arms about her in the chill. It was obvious she knew the longer I stayed out here, the harder it was going to be for me to find the courage to come in. “Don’t you have a complexion charm?” she asked.
“They don’t work on bloodshot eyes,” I hedged. Damn it, what was wrong with me?
Ivy squinted in the glare and sharp breeze, then her face brightened. “I know…” she said, coming back in and slamming the door shut behind her to seal out the cold. I watched her push aside the front curtain and rummage in the console. Her eyes had returned to normal, the fresh air doing as much as the shift in topics. “Kisten probably has one in here,” she muttered, then turned with a tube of what looked like lipstick. “Ta-da!”
Ta-da, huh? I pulled myself straighter as she maneuvered around the clutter and sat on the cot beside me. “Lipstick?” I said, not used to having her that close.
“No. You put it under your eyes and the vapors keep the pupil constricted. It’ll take the red out too. Kist uses it for hangovers—among other things.”
“Oh!” I abruptly felt twice as unsure, not having known there was such a thing. I had always trusted a vampire’s pupils to give away their mood.
Legs crossed at the knees, she uncapped it and twisted until a column of opaque gel rose. “Close your eyes and look up.”
My lips parted. “I can put it on.”
A puff of annoyance came from her. “If you put on too much or get it too close to your eye, you can damage your vision before it wears off.”
I told myself I was being stupid. She looked okay; she wouldn’t have come back in if she wasn’t. Ivy wanted to do something for me, and if she couldn’t give me a hug without her blood lust tainting it, then by God I would let her put that gunk under my eye. “Okay,” I said, resettling myself and looking up. You need the thrill of danger flitted through my mind, and I quashed it.