White Witch, Black Curse

Ivy predictably pulled out of my grip the moment we came out from between the two cars, glancing over her shoulder through the snow to the quiet building. "I'm not going to be that person anymore," she said, and my eyes widened when she wiped her eyes with the back of a gloved hand to show a glint of moisture in the security light. "I can't do this," she whispered, clearly shaken to her core. "Rachel, I'm sorry. I understand that I can't bite you again. I'm sorry I ever tried. You're better than that, and I'm bringing you down."

"You are the strongest person I know!" I protested, but she shook her head, wiping her eyes again. She was down to the bare bones of herself. Skimmer had shaken her to her core.

"Anyone I once called a friend wouldn't have been able to do what you did in there," she said, chin trembling. "Or if they did break us apart, it would have been to take Skimmer's place. I don't want to be that person, and I won't be. I'm off blood. Completely."

My eyes widened, and I felt a slip of fear. Sensing it, Ivy's jaw clenched and she strode away. "Wait, Ivy. That's not necessarily a good idea," I called after her.

"Piscary is dead, I can be who I want," she said over her shoulder.

"But you're a vampire," I protested as I followed, worried. "It's what you are!"

She stopped, turning to stare at me, and I came to a halt, a car between us.

"Look, I'm not saying I want you to bite me," I said, gesturing. "But I've lived with you while you're on a blood fast, and the more you try to be what you aren't, the more confused you get and the harder it is to live with you."

Ivy's mouth opened. Betrayal shone in her eyes. "Abstinence is all I've got, Rachel." Turning, she paced to the car, a shadow of black among the gray and white of falling snow.

"Nice one, Rache," I muttered, thinking there had to be a better way to have said that. Hands jammed into my pockets, I slowly pushed myself into motion. The ride home ought to be swell. There was only so much a little green cardboard tree could do. Ivy on a blood fast was not fun, but she was right to be pissed at me. How could I not support her desire to be who she wanted to be? I did support her, but going on a blood fast wasn't the answer. She needed to break the cycle. She had to end the addiction completely. There had to be something in Al's books for this. Or maybe Trent…

My bag smacked the taillight of the car I was passing, and I followed Ivy's footprints into the frozen slush of the aisle. The sliding sound of a van's door opening brought my head up. Ten feet from my car, a man lurched out of a white minivan beside Ivy. She wasn't paying attention, her head down and looking vulnerable. Shit.

"Ivy!" I exclaimed, terrified by the glint of a pistol in his hand, but it was too late. The man shoved her, and she was pushed into the side of a nearby SUV parked half a car away. "Hey!" I shouted, but then I spun at the soft sound of snow compacting beside me. My instinctive crouch put me eye to eye with Mia.

"Witch," she said, lips blue with cold, and then she reached out.

Adrenaline pounded, and I flung myself backward, my right foot slipping out from under me when I hit the bumper of the car I'd just passed. I went down, arms flailing and purse falling from me. The banshee grabbed my wrist, where my glove and coat parted, and I froze, kneeling before her. Her baby had almost killed me. Shit, shit, shit!

Mia's hood had fallen back, and her eyes were wisps of blue under the spotlights. Cold fingers encircling my wrist, she leaned closer. "Who did you talk to today?" she asked, her voice precise and angry.

Heart pounding, I looked past her. Ivy had her face against the window of the SUV, her arm twisted and a gun to her head. There was a baby car seat in the open van, and the happy babble of a baby drifted out. Why in hell hadn't I brought my splat gun? "You're wanted for questioning," I said, thinking one swift kick and she'd be off me. "If you come in, it will look good."

The words sounded stupid the moment they left my mouth, and Mia squinted, making the skin around her eyes tighten. "You think I care?" she said imperially. "Who did you talk to?"

I tensed to smack her, and Mia's eyes, almost white in the dim light, dilated to pupil black. My breath hissed in, and I almost collapsed. A scintillating flood tingled through me, rising up my arm. Cold followed close behind it, and the feeling of being pulled inside out turned my stomach. Like a puppet with cut strings, I sagged, my arm stretched out with my wrist in Mia's grip.

"S-stop," I stammered, head bowed as I struggled to just breathe. Damn it, what was I doing? I never should have taken this case. She was a freaking predator. A top-of-the-line, ancient predator, like an alligator. As I knelt there, going cold and thick, I could feel myself dying in stages, watching, and unable to stop it.