For A Few Demons More. Kim Harrison
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“Oh. Herb toast, then.” With a forced cheerfulness, she went to wash her hands.
I wasn’t really allergic, just sensitive to it thanks to that same genetic aberration that would have killed me had Trent’s father not intervened. Ivy slid off the counter, and after snapping the box of pasta shut, started gathering salad stuff. She was right next to Skimmer, and when their heads almost touched, I thought I heard soft encouragement.
Standing at the stove with my pasta, I found I was beginning to feel bad for the woman. She was really trying, recognizing that I was important to Ivy and making an effort to be gracious. Skimmer knew that Ivy had once set her sights on me, dropping her play for my blood after she’d finally gotten it, the encounter’s ending bad enough to scare her into never doing it again. And it was no secret that I didn’t give a flying flip that the two of them were sharing blood and a pillow both. I think that that had a lot to do with Skimmer’s attitude. I was one of Ivy’s few friends, and Skimmer knew that the quickest way to tick Ivy off was to be mean to me.
Vampires, I thought, shaking the pasta into the white sauce. I’d never understand them.
“How about some wine?” Skimmer asked, standing at the open fridge with a stick of butter in her hand. “Red goes with pasta. I brought some over today.”
I couldn’t drink red wine without risking migraines, and Ivy didn’t drink much—not at all before a run. I opened my mouth to simply say none for me, but Ivy blurted, “Rachel can’t tolerate red wine. She’s sensitive to sulfur.”
“Oh, God.” Skimmer’s pretty face was creased when she came out from behind the door. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. Is there anything else you can’t tolerate?”
Just you. “You know what?” I said, dropping the lid on the finished pasta and turning the flame off. “I’m going to get some ice cream. Anyone else want ice cream?”
Not waiting for an answer, I snatched up my shoulder bag and one of Ivy’s canvas sacks and walked out of the kitchen. “I’ll be back before the bread’s done!” I called over my shoulder.
The echo of my sandals was different in the sanctuary, and I slowed to see the cozy area Ivy and Skimmer had arranged in a front corner as temporary living room. The TV would be lame, since we didn’t have cable out here, but all I needed was the stereo. Skimmer must’ve brought the floor plants, since I hadn’t seen them before. Damn vampire was just moving in.
And I’m having a problem with that? Irritated at myself now, I shoved one of the thick doors open, slipping out onto the wide stoop and shutting it hard. The light over the sign was on to make the damp pavement shine. Rain-soft air caressed my bare shoulder, but it didn’t soothe me. Was I bothered because I’d begun to think of the church as mine, or was it because Skimmer was taking some of Ivy’s attention?
Do I really want to answer that?
My mood worsened when I passed my car in the carport. Couldn’t drive my stupid car to the stupid corner store because of the stupid I.S.
I scanned the street for my pack-hopeful, not finding Brett. Maybe the rain had chased him off. The man did have to work sometime.
The thump of the church’s front door shutting cut through the damp air, and I turned with an apologetic look on my face. But it wasn’t Ivy.
“I’m coming with you,” Skimmer said, shrugging her lightweight cream-colored jacket and taking the steps two at a time.
Swell. I turned and started walking.
Silent, Skimmer held her purse tight to herself as she matched me step for step, a shade too close since the sidewalk wasn’t that wide. Our feet splashed through a puddle, and I glanced at her white boots. Though inappropriate for a runner to work in, they looked great on her, showing off her little feet. What in hell does she want?
Skimmer took a slow breath. “Ivy and I met the day she moved into my dorm room.”
Whoa. This is not what I had expected. “Skimmer …”
The cadence of her boots never slowed. “Let me finish,” she said, her cheeks spotted red in the occasional streetlight. “My old roommate was expelled, and Ivy moved in. Piscary had screwed her mind royally, and her parents managed to get her out from under him for a few years so she could find an identity that didn’t hinge on him. I think it saved her life. It damn well made her stronger. She needed someone, and I was there.”
My pulse quickened, and my pace slowed. Maybe I should hear this.
Skimmer’s posture eased at my response, her slight shoulders losing much of their tension. “We hit it off,” she said, the black in her eyes swelling. “She was away from her master and parents with a year of master-vampire techniques at her fangtips. I was looking for trouble. My God, it was fantastic, but she scared me into settling down, and I gave her something to believe in.” Skimmer fixed her eyes on me. “She was straight until she met me. Apart from a few latent tendencies. It took me two semesters to convince her that she could love me and Kisten both without betraying him.”
My light steps seemed to jar me to my bones. And that was a good thing? Our pace had slowed, becoming less angry. Skimmer was at the top of her class, and I knew that anything she said would be slanted to scare me. Whatever. She couldn’t scare me any more than Ivy had.
“It was a private school,” Skimmer said. “Everyone lived on campus. It was expected that, as roommates, Ivy and I would share blood as a matter of convenience, but it wasn’t insisted on. That we became lovers only meant … that’s the way we were. I needed her to balance me out, and she needed me to feel good about herself after Piscary screwed her over.”
The anger in her voice was shockingly hard. “You don’t like him,” I said.
Skimmer jerked the strap of her purse back up her shoulder as we walked. “I hate him. But I’ll do whatever he asks if it means I can stay with Ivy.” Her eyes met mine, the light from a nearby streetlamp glowing on her. “I’m going to get him out so I can stay with Ivy. If he kills you afterward, it’s not my problem.”
The threat was obvious, but we kept moving, her steps meeting mine solidly. That’s why she was being nice to me. Why risk getting on Ivy’s bad side if Piscary would take care of it?
I was shaking inside, but Skimmer wasn’t done yet. Her pretty features knotted in an inner turmoil as she added bitterly, “She loves you. I know she’s using me to try and make you jealous. I don’t care.” Flushed, her eyes dilated. “She wants to share everything with you, and you’re kicking it in the dirt. Why do you live with her if you don’t want her to touch you?”
Suddenly it was making a lot more sense. “Skimmer, you’ve got it wrong,” I said softly, the night silent but for the wet hush of traffic a street over. “I want to find a blood balance with Ivy. She’s the one balking, not me.”
Her white boots scuffed to a halt, and I stopped. Skimmer stared at me. “She always mixes sex with her blood,” she said. “Uses it to keep control. You won’t do that. Ivy said so.”
“I won’t have sex with her, yeah. But that doesn’t mean we can’t …” I hesitated. Why am I telling her this?
Shock was clear on Skimmer’s pale face, and her outline came into sharp relief as a car passed us, its lights throwing her into a stark reality that left the night darker when it passed. “You love her,” Skimmer stammered.
My face flamed. Okay, I loved Ivy, but that didn’t mean I wanted to sleep with her.
Skimmer hunched, becoming almost ugly. “Stay away from her,” she hissed.
“Ivy’s making the decisions here, not me,” I said quickly.
“She’s mine!” Skimmer shouted, lashing out.
I moved instinctively, without fear, blocking and