“No,” I blurted. It was a little too quick, and her features folded into a frown. I shook my head, smiling to soften my refusal, wishing I could bring myself to say, “Yes, please.” But I still couldn’t quite trust her. I didn’t like putting myself in a situation where I had to trust anyone. My dad had died because he trusted someone to get his back. “Work alone, Rachel,” he had told me as I sat beside his hospital bed and gripped his shaking hand as his blood lost its ability to carry oxygen. “Always work alone.”
My throat tightened as I met Ivy’s eyes. “If I can’t lose a couple of shades, I deserve to be tagged,” I said, avoiding the real issue. I put my collapsible bowl and a bottle of saltwater into my bag, adding one of my new disguise amulets that no one from the I.S. had seen.
“You aren’t going to try one first?” Ivy asked when it became obvious I was leaving.
I nervously brushed a curling strand of hair back. “It’s getting late. I’m sure it’s fine.”
Ivy didn’t seem very happy. “If you aren’t back by morning, I’m coming after you.”
“Fair enough.” If I wasn’t back by morning, I’d be dead. I snagged my long winter coat from a chair and shrugged into it. I gave Ivy a quick, uneasy smile before I slipped out the back door. I’d go through the graveyard and pick up the bus on the next street over.
The spring night air was cold, and I shivered as I eased the screen door shut. The pile of splat balls at my feet was a reminder I didn’t appreciate. Feeling vulnerable, I slipped into the shadow of the oak tree to wait for my eyes to adjust to a night with no moon. It was just past new and wouldn’t be up until nearly dawn. Thank you, God, for small favors.
“Hey, Ms. Rachel!” came a tiny buzz, and I turned, thinking for an instant it was Jenks. But it was Jax, Jenks’s oldest son. The preadolescent pixy had kept me company all afternoon, nearly getting snipped more times than I would care to recall as his curiosity and attention to “duty” brought him perilously close to my scissors while his father slept.
“Hi, Jax. Is your dad awake?” I asked, offering him a hand to alight upon.
“Ms. Rachel?” he said, his breath fast as he landed. “They’re waiting for you.”
My heart gave a thump. “How many? Where?”
“Three.” He was glowing pale green in excitement. “Up front. Big guys. Your size. Stink like foxes. I saw them when old man Keasley chased them off his sidewalk. I would’ve told you sooner,” he said urgently, “but they didn’t cross the street, and we already stole the rest of their splat balls. Papa said not to bother you unless someone came over the wall.”
“It’s okay. You did good.” Jax took flight as I eased into motion. “I was going to cut across the backyard and pick up the bus on the other side of the block anyway.” I squinted in the faint light, giving Jenks’s stump a soft tap. “Jenks,” I said softly, grinning at the almost subliminal roar of irritation that flowed from the old ash stump. “Let’s go to work.”
The pretty woman sitting across from me on the bus stood to get off. She paused, standing too close to me for comfort, and I looked up from Ivy’s book. “Table 6.1,” she said as I met her gaze. “It’s all you need to know.” Her eyes closed, and she shuddered as if in pleasure.
Embarrassed, I thumbed to the back. “Jiminy Cricket,” I whispered. It was a table of accessories and suggested uses. My face warmed. I wasn’t a prude, but some of it … and with a vampire? Maybe with a witch. If he was drop-dead gorgeous. Without the blood. Maybe.
I jerked as she crouched in the aisle. Leaning far too close, she dropped a black business card into the open book. “In case you want a second,” she whispered, smiling with a quick kinship I didn’t understand. “Newbies shine like stars, bringing out the best in them. I don’t mind playing second fiddle to your first night. And I could help you … afterward. Sometimes they forget.” A flash of fear crossed her, quick but very real.
Jaw hanging, I could say nothing as she stood and walked away and down the stairs.
Jenks flitted close, and I snapped the book shut. “Rache,” he said as he landed on my earring. “Whatcha reading? You’ve had your nose in it since we got on the bus.”
“Nothing,” I said, feeling my pulse hammer. “That woman. She was human, right?”
“The one talking to you? Yeah. By the smell of it, she’s a vamp flunky. Why?”
“No reason,” I said as I shoved the book to the bottom of my bag. I was never reading this thing in public again. Fortunately, my stop was next. Ignoring Jenks’s nonstop inquisition, I strode into the mall’s food court. My long coat flapped about my ankles as I immersed myself in the hustle of predawn Sunday shopping. I invoked my old lady disguise in the bathroom, hoping to throw off anyone who might have recognized me. Still, I thought it prudent to lose myself in a crowd before I headed to the I.S.: kill some time, gather my courage, pick up a hat to replace the one of Ivy’s I’d lost today—buy some soap to cover any lingering smell of her on me.
I strode past an amulet outlet without my usual, wistful hesitation. I could make anything I wanted, and if someone was looking for me, that’s where they would watch. But no one would expect me to buy a pair of boots, I thought, my steps slowing as I passed a window. The leather curtains and dim lights said more clearly than the name of the shop that it catered to vamps.
What the heck? I thought. I live with a vamp. The sales associate couldn’t be any worse than Ivy. I was savvy enough to buy something without leaving any blood behind. So, ignoring Jenks’s complaints, I went in. My thoughts flicked from Table 6.1 to the flirtatious, handsome clerk who had warned the other salesmen off after taking a peek at me through a pair of wood-rimmed glasses. His name tag said VALENTINE, and I ate up his attention with a spoon as he helped me choose a good pair of boots, ooohing over my silk stockings and caressing my feet with his strong, cool fingers. Jenks waited in the hall in a potted plant, sullen and bad-tempered.
God help me, but Valentine was pretty. It had to be in the vamp job description, like wearing black and knowing how to flirt without triggering any of my proximity alarms. It didn’t hurt to look, right? I could look and still not join the club, yes?
But as I walked out in my new, too expensive boots, I wondered at my sudden curiosity. Ivy had as much as admitted to me that she was driven by smell. Perhaps they all put out pheromones to subliminally soothe and lure the unsuspecting. It would make it far easier to seduce their prey. I had thoroughly enjoyed myself with Valentine, as relaxed as if he had been an old friend, letting him take teasing liberties with his hands and words that I normally wouldn’t. Shaking the uncomfortable thought away, I continued my shopping.
I had to stop at the Big Cherry for some pizza sauce. Humans would boycott any store that sold tomatoes—even though the T-4 Angel variety was long extinct—so the only place you could get them was a specialty shop where it wouldn’t matter if half the world’s population refused to cross your threshold.
It was nerves that made me stop at the sweet shop. Everyone knows chocolate soothes the jitters; I think they did a study on it. And for five glorious minutes, Jenks stopped talking while he ate the caramel I bought him.
Stopping at The Bath and Body was a must—I wouldn’t use Ivy’s shampoo and soap anymore. And that led me to a scent shop. With Jenks’s grudging help, I picked out a new perfume that helped hide Ivy’s lingering scent. Lavender was the only thing that came close. Jenks said I stank like an explosion in a flower factory. I didn’t especially like it, either, but if it kept me from triggering Ivy’s instincts, I’d drink it, much less simply bathe in it.
Two hours before sunup I was back on the street and headed for the records vault. My