For a Few Demons More(27)
Ivy, though, had been a lot easier to live with the last few months as she slaked her blood lust with someone she loved who could survive her attentions. She was happy. Guilty, but happy. I didn’t think Ivy could be happy if she didn’t slather it with guilt. And in the interim we could pretend that I wasn’t feeling the first lure of blood ecstasy, not pushing the issue because Ivy was afraid. Our roles were reversed, and I didn’t have as much practice as Ivy did at telling myself I couldn’t have something I wanted.
The wooden spoon rattled against the pan as my hand trembled, the thrill of adrenaline zinging through me at the memory of her teeth sliding cleanly into me, fear and pleasure mixing in an unreal sensation, filling me with the rush of ecstasy.
As if the memory had called her, Ivy’s lanky silhouette appeared in the hallway. Dressed in tight jeans and a shirt cut high to show her belly-button ring, she went to the fridge for a bottled water. Her motions to open it slowed as she scented the air, realizing I’d been thinking about her, or at least about something that would get my rush flowing and my pulse up. Pupils swelling, she eyed me from across the kitchen. “That perfume isn’t working anymore,” she said.
I hid my smile, thinking I should just stop wearing it, but pushing her into biting me again was a bad idea. “It’s an old one,” I said. “I didn’t have anything else in the bathroom.”
Much to my surprise, she shook her head and chuckled. She was in a good mood, and I wondered what she and Skimmer had been doing in there besides rearranging the furniture. Not my business, I thought, turning back to my sauce.
Ivy was silent as she took another swig, leaning against the counter with her ankles crossed. I felt her eyes rove the kitchen, landing on the kettle shining dully on a back burner. “Is Ceri coming over?” she asked.
Nodding, I looked into the damp garden, shadowed into an early dusk from the clouds. “She’s going to help me with my calling glyph.” I glanced at her, my spoon still circling. Clockwise, clockwise…never widdershins. “What’s your schedule tonight?”
“I’m out and won’t be back until almost sunup. I’ve got a run.” In a motion of powerful grace, she used one hand to ease herself up to sit on the counter.
“You going to take Jenks?” I asked, wanting him here with me, but my scaredy-cat fears came in second after a real job.
“No.” Ivy ran her fingers up through the downward spikes of her shorter hair in a show of nervousness, telling me she was doing something for Piscary, not her bank account. She was the master vampire’s scion, and that came first—when it didn’t involve me. “Do you think that ugly statue is what that demon was after?”
“The focus?” Running a finger over the spoon, I licked it and set it in the sink. “What else could it be? Ceri says if Newt knew that David had it, she would have shown up at his apartment, not here, but I’m going to bring it back anyway. Someone in Cincy knows it’s surfaced again.” My gaze went distant, and a nasty feeling of betrayal settled into my belly. Besides Ivy, Jenks, and Kisten, the only person who knew I still had the focus was Nick. I couldn’t believe he would have betrayed me like that, but he had sold information about me to Big Al before. And now he was pissed at me.
The water was boiling, and I shook in enough macaroni for three. Leaning, Ivy dragged the open box of pasta to her. “What did Glenn want?” she asked, crunching through a dry piece.
Breaking apart the clumps of macaroni, I turned the flame down. “My opinion of a Were murder. It was Mr. Ray’s secretary. Whoever did it tried to make it look like a suicide.”
Defined eyebrows high, Ivy’s gaze went to the calendar pinned to the wall beside her computer. “A week from the full moon? No way was it a suicide, and the I.S. knows it.”
I nodded. “I don’t think they expected the FIB to take an interest. She had bruises from restraints and needle marks. Denon was covering it up.”
Ivy hesitated as she reached into the box for another piece of pasta. “You think it has something to do with the focus?”
“Why not?” I said, exasperated. Damn it. I’d only had the ugly statue for two months, and already word was out that it hadn’t been lost going over the Mackinac Bridge. Tucking a strand of hair out of the way, I stirred my pasta and tried to remember if I’d gone to see or even called David in all that time. Apart from the night I gave it to him, I didn’t think I had. He was my alpha, but it wasn’t like we were married or anything. Crap, this wasn’t safe. I needed to get it back from him, like today.