White Witch, Black Curse

The master vampire moved aside as they mounted the steps, and I got out of their way as they walked in, nice as you please, the heavy scent of vampire trailing behind them. "She is," he said as they passed me. "She's asleep. She will likely stay that way until well after sunrise. Her last words made it quite clear that she wanted to come home." He smiled, ducking his head to look perfectly normal, perfectly alive. Perfectly deadly. "She used words that left no doubt. I didn't see the harm in it."

I could imagine. "Her room is on the left," I called after them, not wanting to follow and leave a past U.S. president standing on my porch. Jenks took off from my shoulder, and dusting heavily from indecision, he finally took off after them.

"I'll show you," he said. "This way."

I turned back to Cormel, arms still over my chest. I didn't care if I looked defensive. "Thank you," I said stiffly, thinking I'd give him something more sincere once I found out how messed up she was.

Again the tall man inclined his head. "Thank you."

He said nothing else, and the silence became uncomfortable. Bis twitched his ear, and Cormel's eyes shifted. There was a soft thump from inside the church, then nothing.

"I am going to try to find a way for her to keep her soul after death," I said.

"I know you are." He smiled the smile that saved the world, but I saw beyond it to the monster underneath. I had to keep Ivy from becoming this. It was foul.

I didn't look away from Cormel as the sound of footsteps and pixy wings grew behind me. Standing in the middle of my threshold with my feet spread and my arms crossed, I refused to move as the men brushed past me and went down the cement steps and into the dark. With a last inclination of his head, Rynn Cormel slowly spun on a heel and followed, getting in the first car when one of his men opened the door. Two more doors thumped shut, and they slowly accelerated down the street.

Jenks landed on my shoulder as I exhaled long and loud. "In or out, Bis?" I asked, and the gargoyle launched himself deeper into the church. There was a delighted laugh from the open support beams, and I shut the door, sealing out the night. Jenks's wings were cold, and I decided I'd bake cookies or something to warm up the church.

Feet slow, I went into the sanctuary. Bis was on one of the support beams, three of Jenks's older kids with him. His ears were flat as he tried to decide what to make of them, and it looked sweet as he tried to appear harmless, shifting to a bright white and holding his wings close. Bis didn't come in often, but the entire church had the feeling of closing in, circling the wounded, bracing for a fight.

"Is she okay?" I asked Jenks as I tiptoed into the hall.

"She stinks like vampire" was his opinion. "But her aura looks really thick."

Really thick. Thicker than usual? I mused, not knowing if that was good or bad, sighing as I touched Ivy's closed door in passing. I was glad to have her home. The church felt…almost right.

Just a few more days, I thought as I reached the kitchen and turned the oven on to preheat. Just a few more days, and everything will be back to normal.

But as I looked at the stoppered bottles all lined up and ready to go, I wondered.

Twenty-five

"Oh God. I think I'm going to be sick," I whispered, head bowed over my lap, making my hair drape onto the scrying mirror. The morning chill made me feel ill as it mixed with my nausea, and my hand shook as I pressed it into the cave of the pentagram engraved on the scrying mirror. The ley line spilling into me was still ragged lurches and jumps. Obviously my aura wasn't yet back to normal.

Rachel calling Al, come in, Al, I thought sarcastically, in a last-ditch effort to reach the demon, but as before, he refused to answer, leaving me in this dizzy, uncomfortable morass of existence. I hunched suddenly, as it felt like the world suddenly dropped out from under me. My stomach gave a heave, and I broke the connection before I vomited on the kitchen floor.

"Damn it all to the Turn and back!" I exclaimed, barely above a whisper. Shaking, I curbed my desire to fling the mirror across the kitchen, and instead leaned to shove it roughly away on the open shelves under the island counter. Slumping back in my chair, I stared at the silent room. It was about three in the afternoon. Ivy wasn't up yet, but the pixies were at it, trying to be quiet so as not to wake her. I eyed the open box of cold pizza from last night, and feeling my nausea leave as fast as it had come, I yanked a piece and ate the point. "Crap, this is awful," I muttered, tossing it back in the box. I was too old for this.