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A Fistfull of Charms(82)

By:Laurell K. Hamilton

“Pleasure to meet you, sir,” I said, not offering my hand to DeLavine. No freaking way. “Peter,” I added, shaking his.
He smiled to show me his teeth, his hand cold as it slipped into mine. There was a strength to his grip, but I could see the fear in his eyes. I couldn’t do this.“Rachel Morgan,” the ailing vampire said, his gaze touching upon my neck and politely rising back to my eyes. “I’d like to talk to you about why I—”
“Rachel,” DeLavine interrupted softly, and I started. “I want to see you. Come here.”
My gaze jerked to Ivy and my pulse leapt. Her face was blank of emotion, and with that comfortable thought, I turned to him. When dealing with an unfamiliar vampire, it was always better to acknowledge their existence, then talk to their subordinates unless they showed an interest. Oh God, I didn’t want to be interesting.
“So you will free my Peter of his mortal pain,” he said, his voice going right to the bottom of my lungs and making it hard for me to breathe.
“Yes, sir.” I looked him in the eye and fought the familiar rising pull of tingles.
He gazed back, more than a hint of testing seduction in his widening pupils. Behind me, I felt Ivy step forward, and from the corner of my sight, Jenks slowly uncrossed his legs to put his feet on the floor. Tension pulled through me, and though DeLavine’s focus never moved from me, I knew he was becoming aware that I wasn’t for casual use and discard, despite what I looked like.
The refined man stood in a soft rustle, and I retreated a step, common sense overpowering my desire to appear cavalier. Rex, too, got to her feet, stretching before going to twine about the vampire’s feet. I forced myself to breathe, and Ivy’s presence behind me imparted a feeling of security I knew was false. My legs felt questionable, and his pupils widened when he sensed it. I’m not afraid, I thought, lying to myself. Well, not any more than would help keep me alive.
“I know you,” DeLavine said, and I steeled myself against the pheromones he was kicking out. He reached forward, and I stifled my jerk when he arranged a strand of wild hair. “Your youth distracted me. I almost didn’t see since you’re all but ignorant of yourself. You’re Kalamack’s witch.”
“I’m not his. I don’t work for him. Much,” I protested, putting little weight behind it, then stiffened when he distinctly pushed Ivy out of the way and circled behind me. I heard her fall back, catching herself but not protesting. In the kitchen, Nick paled. Jenks stood, his sword gripped tightly. Peter looked distressed, and the woman tensed. DeLavine was aware of everyone, but focused entirely on me.
“You are a remarkable woman,” the undead vampire said from behind my shoulder. There were no tingles, no hint of passion, but it was coming, I could feel it simmering under his silky voice. “And your skin…so perfect, not a mark from the sun. But, bless my soul,” he said with a mocking slowness. “Someone…has bitten you.” 
He exhaled, and my eyes closed when a wash of bliss rose from my new wound, melting my fear like spun sugar. He was bespelling me. I knew it. I couldn’t fight it. And God help me, I wanted to. All I could manage was a small sound in protest when his fingers moved the collar of my leather jacket aside.
“No,” Ivy whispered, fear in her voice. My eyes opened, only to be caught by DeLavine’s. He was before me now, a hand raised against Ivy behind me. Rex twined about my feet, purring. This wasn’t supposed to happen. This is not what was supposed to happen!
Jenks’s face was drawn tight. He had been told not to interfere, knew it would make matters worse. Beyond him, Nick was stiff with horror. I didn’t think it stemmed from DeLavine. I think it was from the new stitches on my neck and what they meant. Ivy had bitten me, and my face warmed at his unvoiced accusation. He thought I had failed, that I had let my passions rule me and let Ivy take advantage of it.
My jaw clenched and my chin rose. It was none of Nick’s business what I did with whom. And I hadn’t given in because of passion; I had tried to understand her, or maybe myself.
But DeLavine took it as defiance and gently caressed the sore edges of my bite.
Adrenaline jerked through me. My weakened pulse tried to absorb it, and failed. I gasped when feeling raced from his soft brush against the healing wound, streaming through me, both familiar and alien since it came from an unfamiliar vampire. The difference struck a chord in me I hadn’t known was there, and my vision darkened when my blood loss couldn’t cope with the new demand.
Jenks moved. From the edge of my sight I saw Ivy crash into him. “Sorry,” she grunted, making a mallet of her hands by covering her fist with another and slamming it into his head.
Mouth open, Nick stood in the kitchen, watching the pixy’s eyes roll up and him drop like a stone, unconscious. The human backed up until he could back up no more. He thought Ivy had given me to DeLavine. What she had done was save Jenks’s life, and probably everyone else’s, since a pitched fight would set DeLavine off. This way, only I would die.
“Let me…” DeLavine whispered for me alone, and he circled with Rex trailing happily behind him, the vampire scenting everything, weighing, calculating.
My breath came in a heave, and I held it. My knees were locked to keep me upright. Ivy couldn’t do a thing, and I could hear her frustration in her breathing as she forced herself to not interfere. She couldn’t best DeLavine. Not without leaning on Piscary’s strength, and she was out of his influence. DeLavine knew it. That we had invited him here to help Peter meant little.
“Bitten and unbound,” the undead vampire said, and a shudder rippled through me. “Free for the taking. I sense two demon marks on you. I feel two bites, but only one reached your soul, and so carefully—so careful she was, a kiss so soft, but a whisper. And someone…someone has put their mark in your very…cells. Claimed by many, belonging to none. Who would look to me to get you back?”
“No one,” I rasped, and his eyes fixed on mine, stilling my next word. I stood upright under his control and would have fallen if his will wasn’t propping me up.
“Please,” Ivy whispered, standing beside Jenks slumped on the floor. “I beg favor.”
With a light interest, DeLavine touched the unscared side of my neck. “What?” he said.
“Leave her as mine.” Ivy’s pale face made her eyes look even blacker. “I ask this as a thank-you for helping Peter.” She licked her lips and held her arms down. “Please.”
DeLavine lifted his eyes from me, and I blinked, finding a thread of will returned to me. “This,” the vampire said, lifting my chin with a finger, “should belong to a master, not you. Piscary has indulged you beyond reason. You’re a spoiled child, Ivy, and you should be punished for stepping out of your master’s influence. Taking her as mine will bother Kalamack and put me in good with Piscary.”Ivy’s eyes flicked to me and away. I could almost feel her thoughts realign themselves, and my pulse hammered when her posture melted from tense to seductive.
God save us. She was going to give him what he wanted so he would leave me alone. I couldn’t let her do this. I couldn’t let her turn herself into filth for me. But as tingles raced through me to set my mind confused, I could only watch.
“Such a sweet sip,” DeLavine said, his back to Ivy. A new glint was in his eyes, making me unsure if he was talking about Ivy or me. “A wolf in sheep’s clothing, stinking of Brimstone, but still very weak,” he said. “I might kill you by mistake, witch. But you’d enjoy it.” He inhaled, taking my volition. Exhaling, his breath under my ear sent a jolt of desire right to my core. “Do you want this?” he breathed.
“No,” I whispered. It was easy. Ivy had given me the fear to find the strength to say it.
But DeLavine was delighted. “No!” he exclaimed, his pupils wide and dilated, his lust-reddened lips curling upward. “Curiouser and curiouser.” His fingers traced the line along my shoulder that I knew he wanted to send his nails, digging to cause pain and a delicious path of blood to my neck that his mouth could follow.
Eyes on mine, he smiled to show his long canines. The thought of them sinking into me pulled a shiver from the depths of my soul. I knew how it would feel, and the fear of my blood being raped from me mixed with the memory of how good it could be. I closed my eyes, starting to hyperventilate, fighting him, losing to him. DeLavine eased closer, almost touching. I could sense his need to crush my will rise higher. He didn’t care about Peter. Not anymore. I was too damn interesting.
“So strong a will,” he said. “I could flake your consciousness from your soul like stone.”
He moved, and behind him I saw Ivy gather her resolve. No, I pleaded silently, but her fear for me was stronger than her fear for herself. Guilt, shame, and relief kept me silent when, shifting forward with a sigh to tell him where she was, she touched DeLavine’s shoulder.
I watched in horror and fascination as Ivy’s long leg slipped between his from behind. She curved a sinuous arm around his chest so that her fingertips played with the base of his neck. Tilting her head, she sent her lips to mouth his ear. And while DeLavine looked at me with Ivy bringing his hunger fully awake, she whispered, “Please?”