Ким Харрисон - Every Witch Way But Dead

"It just kind of happened."

Ivy touched her lip to see that it had stopped bleeding. "It was just sex? You didn't give him your blood?"

The vulnerability in her voice struck me. My head bobbed. I felt like a doll, my eyes wide and my thoughts empty. "I'm sorry," I said. "I didn't think you and Kisten…" I hesitated. This wasn't about the sex, but the blood she thought I had given him. "I didn't think you and Kisten had a formal relationship anymore," I fumbled, unsure if I was putting it right.

"I don't share blood with Kisten but for the rare occasion when he's been dumped and needs some TLC," she said, her gray silk voice soft. Still she wouldn't look up. "Blood is not sex, Rachel. It's a way to show you care for someone. A way to show…you love them."

It was barely a whisper. My breath grew fast. I felt we were balanced on a knife's edge, and it scared the crap out of me. "How can you say sex isn't blood, when you'll have sex with anyone?" I said, adrenaline making my voice harsher than I intended. "Good God, Ivy, when was the last time you had sex without blood?"

Only now did she bring her head up, shocking me with the fear in her eyes. She was afraid, and not because she thought I'd given my blood to Kisten. She was afraid of the answers I was demanding. I don't think she had faced them before, even in the chaos her desires had left her in. I felt hot, then cold. Pulling my knees to my chin, I tucked my bare heels against me.

"Okay," she said with the last of her exhaled breath, and I knew the next thing she said would be stark honesty. "You have a good point. I usually include blood with sex. I like it that way. It's a rush. Rachel, if you would only…" she said, her hands coming up from her knees.

I felt myself pale. I shook my head, and she changed her mind about what she was going to say. She seemed to de-flate, all the tension pooling out of her. "Rachel, it's not the same," she finished weakly, brown eyes pleading.

My thoughts went to Kist. The twinge from my scar dove to my groin and brought my breath even faster. Swallowing, I forced the feeling from me. I pulled back, glad the table was between us. "That's what Kisten says, but I can't separate it. And I don't think you can either."

Ivy's face went red, and I knew I was right.

"Damn it, Ivy. I'm not saying it's wrong they're the same," I said. "Hell, I've been living with you for seven months. Don't you think by now you'd know if I thought it was? But that's not the way I'm put together. You're the best friend I've ever had, but I'm not going to share a pillow with you, and I'm never going to let anyone taste my blood." I took a breath. "I'm not put together that way, either. And I can't live my life avoiding a real relationship with someone because it might hurt your feelings. I told you it's not going to happen between us, and it's not. Maybe…" I felt sick. "Maybe I should move out."

"Move out?"

It was a breathy sound of dismay, and the warmth of tears stung my eyes. I stared at the wall, jaw clenched. The last seven months had been the most frightening, scary, and best months of my life. I didn't want to leave—and not just because she was protecting me from another vampire biting and claiming me—but staying here wasn't fair to either of us if she couldn't let it go.

"Jenks is gone," I said, my voice low so it wouldn't shake. "I just slept with your old boyfriend. It's not fair to stay here if there is never going to be anything more than friendship between us. Especially now that Skimmer is back." I looked at the broken door, hating myself. "We should just call everything quits."

God, why was I almost crying? I couldn't give her any more, and she desperately needed it. Skimmer could; Skimmer wanted to. I should leave. But when I looked up, I was shocked to see the candlelight glinting upon a ribbon of moisture under her eye.

"I don't want you to go," she said, and the lump in my throat thickened. "A good friendship is reason enough to stay, isn't it?" she whispered, her eyes so full of pain that a tear leaked out of me.

"Damn it," I said, wiping a finger under my eye. "Look what you made me do."

I jerked when she reached across the table and took my wrist. My eyes were riveted to hers as she pulled it to her and touched my tear-damp fingertips to her lips. Her eyes closed and her lashes fluttered. A zing of adrenaline struck me. My pulse quickened, the memory of vampire-induced ecstasy high in my thoughts. "Ivy?" I said weakly, pulling away.

She let go. My heart pounded as she took a slow breath, tasting the air with her senses, running my emotions through her incredible brain, reading the balance of what I might and might not do. I didn't want to know what her calculations totaled to.

"I'll pack my things," I said, frightened that she might know more about me than I did.

Her eyes opened. I thought I saw a faint glimmer of strength. "No," she said, the first hint of her iron will returning. "We're both crap when we're alone, and I'm not just talking about the stupid firm. I promise I won't ask anything of you except to be my friend. Please…" She took a breath. "Please don't go because of this, Rachel. Do what you want with Kist. He's a good man and I know he won't hurt you. Just…" She held her breath, her determination faltering. "Just be here when I come home tonight?"

I nodded. I knew she wasn't just asking about tonight. And I didn't want to leave. I loved it here: the kitchen, the witch's garden, the cool-factor of living in a church. That she valued our friendship meant a lot to me, and after avoiding true friendship for years because of what had happened to my dad, having a best friend meant a lot to me too. She had once threatened to withdraw her desperately needed protection from me if I left. This time, she hadn't. I was afraid to look for the reason, afraid that it might stem from that tiny thrill I had felt when she had tasted my tears.

"Thank you," she said, and I froze as she leaned forward over the table to give me a quick hug. The scent of almonds and leather filled my senses. "If Kisten can convince you that blood isn't sex," she said, "promise to tell me?"

I stared at her. The memory of Skimmer kissing her flashed through me and was gone.

Apparently satisfied, she let go, stood, and went into the kitchen.

"Ivy," I breathed, too numb and strung out to speak louder, knowing she could hear me. "How many rules are we breaking?"

She hesitated as she appeared in the hallway, satchel and sword in hand, shifting from foot to foot and not answering me. "I'll be back after sunrise. Maybe we can have a late dinner? Gossip about Kisten over lasagna? He's actually a nice guy—he'll be good for you." Giving me an awkward smile, she left.

Her voice had held a faint ribbon of regret, but I didn't know if it was for having lost me or Kisten. I didn't want to know. I stared at the carpet, not seeing the candles or smelling the scent of wax and perfume as the faint boom of the door shifted the air. How had my life gotten this screwed up? All I had wanted to do was quit the I.S., help a few people, make something of myself and my degree. Since then I had found and driven away my first real boyfriend in years, insulted a pixy clan, become Ivy's golden ring, and had sex with a living vampire. That wasn't even counting the two death threats I'd survived or the precarious situation with Trent. What the hell was I doing?

Rising, I stumbled into the kitchen, face cold and legs feeling like rubber. Looking up at the sound of running water, I froze. Algaliarept was at the sink filling the teapot, its tarnished copper beading with condensation.

"Good evening, Rachel," he said, smiling to show me flat teeth. "Hope you don't mind me making a pot of tea. We have a lot to do before the sun comes up."

Oh God. I'd forgotten about that.