04. A Fistful of Charms by Kim Harrison

Author:Kim Harrison [Harrison, Kim]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2012-01-10T08:51:53+00:00

Nick slumped into a defeated stillness. “I’ve changed.” I didn’t want to hear this. They never changed, they simply hid it better. “I’m seeing someone,” I said, my voice low so it wouldn’t shake. “He’s there when I need him, and I’m there for him. He makes me feel good. I don’t want to return to how things were, so don’t ask me to. You were gone, and he—” I wiped a hand under my eye, embarrassed that they were wet. “He was there,” I said. He helped me forget you, you bastard.

“You love him?”

“Whether I love him or not isn’t relevant,” I said, hands in my lap.

“He’s a vampire?” Nick asked, not moving one inch, and I nodded.

“You can’t trust that,” he protested, long hands gesturing weakly. “He’s just trying to bind you to him. You know that. God, you can’t be that naive! Didn’t you just see what happened with your scar? With Ivy?”

I stared at him, my feelings of betrayal rising anew, both angry and frightened.

“You told me once that if I wanted to be Ivy’s scion, that you would drive me back to the church and walk away. That you loved me enough to leave if it meant I would be happy.” My heart was pounding and I forced my clenched hands apart.

“Well, what’s the difference, Nick?”

He bowed his head. When he looked up, his face was tight with emotion. “I hadn’t lost you then. I didn’t know what you meant to me. I do now. Ray-ray, please. It’s not you making decisions anymore, but vampire pheromones. You’ve got to get out before you make a mistake you can’t walk away from!” A movement in the mirror caught my eye. Ivy. Thank God. I reached for the door handle. “Don’t talk to me about making mistakes,” I said, grabbing my bag and getting out.

I slammed the door, glad to see Ivy for the distraction if nothing else. The van was now gray at the bottom, shading to white at the top and plastered with professional-looking decals. The cloying scent of fixative was a fading hint. Ivy was watching the nearby road as she approached, her subtle finger motions telling me to stay between the shelter of the dirty trucks.

Rocking to a halt, I crossed my arms and waited by the back bumper, lips pressed while Nick shut his door and shuffled forward. “All clear inside?” I said brightly when Ivy joined us. “Good. I’m starved.”

“Just a minute, I want my stuff.” Slipping past me, she yanked the driver’s side door open and retrieved a rolled-down paper bag from under the front seat. She shut the door hard before pushing past Nick and pulling me into her wake. A pause at the head of the shelter the two semis made, and we started for the restaurant, my flip-flops noisy next to her vamp-soft steps. Behind us, I could hear Nick. By all rights, as the most vulnerable member of the group, he should have been between us, but I didn’t feel like protecting him, and the danger was minimal.

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