A Fistful of Charms Chapter Twenty-three


I was moving, and it was confusing the hell out of me. I didn't think I was unconscious, and I certainly didn't know what was going on, but someone had their arms around me and I could smell the sharp scent of chlorophyll. Piecing together if I was outside with my eyes shut or inside with my eyes open was beyond me. I was cold, but I'd been cold for forever.

I did recognize the dropping sensation followed by a bed pressing into me. I tried to speak but failed. A wide hand cradled my head, and the pillow under it was pulled away. I sank deeper into the comforter as someone propped up my knees and tucked the pillow under it.

"Stay with me, Rache," came a voice, accompanied by the smell of fudge, and I tried to remember how to open my eyes. Hands were on me, light and warm. "Don't pass out. Let me get some water in you first, then you can rest."

My head lolled, accompanied by a pulsing pain in my neck. The voice had been soft, but there was panic under it. The thought of water gave me a name to the feeling I couldn't figure out. I'm thirsty. Yes, that's what I'm feeling.

I felt sick, and my lids fluttered as I hung in a state too fatigued to move. I remembered this. I had done this before. "Where's Keasley?" I whispered, hearing it come from me in a soft breath of air. No one heard me over the sound of running water.

"Jax, get a straw," the intent voice said. "In the trash by the TV."

There was the sound of cellophane crackling, and someone moved my legs to wedge another pillow under them. It was as if a veil dropped away, and suddenly everything had meaning. My eyes opened and reality realigned itself. I was in the motel room. I was on the bed with my feet propped higher than my head. I was cold. Jenks had carried me in, and that winged spot of sunshine hovering by the TV was Jax.

Oh God. I had asked Ivy to bite me.

Taking a deep breath, I tried to sit up.

Jenks abruptly had his hands on me, pressing my shoulder down. He's got big hands, I thought, trying to focus. And warm.

"Not so fast," he said. "Can you swallow?"

My eyes flicked to the plastic cup in his hand. I licked my lips. I wanted it, but my neck hurt. It hurt bad. "Where's Ivy?" I slurred.

Jenks's expression closed. I focused on his green eyes while the edges of my sight grayed. Nausea tightened my gut. Kisten said she had forgotten control while under Piscary's ungentle touch, possibly killing people in the throes of blood passion. I'd thought she was better. Kisten said she was better. She looked better. Apparently by asking her to divorce her feelings of love from her hunger, I'd taken away what she had used to shackle it. In three minutes I threw her back into the pit of depravity she had struggled so long to escape. I had done it to her. Me.

"I'm sorry," I said, starting to cry, and he took both my hands in one of his to stop them from moving upward to my neck. "I only wanted to understand. I didn't mean to tip her over the edge. Jenks, don't be mad at her."

His fingertips brushed the hair from my forehead, but he wouldn't meet my gaze, not yet ready to believe. Though his smooth features looked too young for someone who had adult kids, the deep-set pain born in understanding said he had endured a lifetime of joy and sorrow.

"Let me get some water in you before you pass out," he said, turning away. "Jax!" he snapped, sounding very unlike himself. "Where's that straw? I don't want her lifting her head."

"Which one is hers, Dad?" the adolescent pixy said, his voice high in worry.

"It doesn't matter. Just get one!"

The reflected light on the ceiling darkened, and from the open door came a hesitant, "She had the Sprite. And her cup is the one with all the buttons punched in."

Jax rose three feet in a glittering column of sparkles.

How about that? Those plastic dents are of some use after all.

"Get the hell out of here," Jenks said, seething. The warmth of his fingers slipped from me as he rose to stand above me.

Guilt hit hard, and I wanted to curl up and die. What had I done? I couldn't fix this. All I'd wanted was to understand Ivy, and now I was lying in a motel room with holes in my neck and my two best friends fighting. My life was a pile of shit. "Jenks," I whispered, "stop."

"She wants me here," Ivy came back with immediately. I could tell she was still in the threshold, and she sounded desperate. "It was an accident. I'll never touch her again. I can help. I know what to do."

"I bet you do," he said snidely, putting his hands on his hips. Now that he was six-foot-four, it didn't look as aggressive, somehow. "We don't need you! Get out!"

I wished they would figure this out so someone would give me some water. Jax hovered above me, a red straw taller than he was in his grip. Feeling distant and unreal, I made my eyes wide so I could focus on him. "Dad?" the small pixy called, worried, but they weren't listening.

"You little twit," Ivy snapped. "It was an accident! Didn't you hear her?"

"I heard her." He left me, his feet silent on the carpet. "She'll say anything you want now, won't she? You bound her to you! Damn it, Ivy! You weak-willed, jealous sack of vampire spit. You said you could handle this! You promised me you wouldn't bite her!"

His shouting was furious, and I went even colder. What if she had bound me to her? Would I be able to tell?

I desperately wanted to turn my head, but Jax was standing on my nose, his bare feet warm, the scent of sugar and wax coming from the drop hanging on the end of the straw. I wanted it, then felt guilty for wanting water when my friends were going to kill each other.

"I'm not going to tell you again, Jenks. Get out of my way."

There was an intake of breath, and Jax let out a yelp and darted to the ceiling. I heard a grunt followed by a rolling thump. Adrenaline surged, and I pushed myself up, then slumped against the headboard, neck protesting.

They were grappling on the floor, moving too fast for my blood-starved brain to follow. The small end table had been knocked over, and they were a confusing tangle of legs and arms.

"You're a lying, manipulative, vamp-bitch whore!" Jenks shouted, twisting violently out of her grip. She leapt at him from a crouch, and the two crashed to the wall. Jenks moved blindingly fast, flowing out from under her, grabbing her arm and landing atop her back, pinning her to the carpet. My God, he was quick.

"Ow," Ivy said to the wall, abruptly still with Jenks atop her, her arm held at an awkward angle. His other hand held a dagger to her kidneys. When had he gotten a dagger? "Damn it, Jenks," she said, making a little wiggle. "Get off."

"Tell me you're going to leave and not come back," he said, breath fast and blond hair in disarray, "or I'll break your arm. And you're going to stay away from Rachel. Got it? And if I see her trying to get to you because you bound her to you, I'll find you and kill you twice. I'll do it, Ivy. Don't think I can't!"

My mouth went dry and I started to shake. I was going into shock. My hand pressed to my neck was sticky. I wanted to tell them to stop, but it was all I could do to stay upright.

Ivy wiggled, stiffening when Jenks poked her. "Listen to me, pixy man," she said, her face turned to the wall. "You're quick, you're fast, and if you stick that into me, I'm going to smack you into the ever-after. I didn't bind her to me. I tried to leave, and she asked me to stay. She wanted to know. Damn it, Jenks, she wanted to know!"

Focus blurring, I tried to pull the bedspread over me, my fingers as strong as string, accomplishing nothing. Jenks started at the movement, realizing I was upright and watching. His angular, beautifully savage face lost its emotion. "You seduced her," he said, and I dropped my eyes, shamed. All I had wanted was to understand. How could so much go wrong from wanting to understand?

Her cheek pressed against the carpet, Ivy made a helpless bark of laugher. "She seduced me," she said, and I wavered from the pain and blood loss, knowing it was the truth. "I left, but she called me back. I would have left even then, but she said she wanted this for her. Not for me, but for her. I told you if she ever admitted that, I wouldn't walk away. I didn't lie to you!"

My breathing had quickened, giving me a feeling of disjoined airiness. I was hyperventilating. Jax was flitting over me, trying to dust my bite but only making me squint to see through the sparkles. At least I think the sparkles were from him. God I hurt. I was going to either die or throw up.

Jenks pricked Ivy's sweater with his knife and she jerked. "If you're lying to me - "

Ivy's shoulders lost all their tension, and she surrendered visibly. "I thought I was better," she said, guilt slamming into me at the pain in her voice. "I worked so hard, Jenks. I thought I'd finally - She didn't want...she couldn't handle the sex, so I tried to separate it from the blood. I wanted something of her. And she was able to give me the blood. I - I lost control of the hunger again. Damn it, I almost killed her."

His eyes on me, Jenks let go of her arm. It hit the floor with a thump. Ivy slowly pulled it into a more comfortable position. "You didn't separate the sex from the blood, you took the love from it," Jenks said, and I wavered, my pulse hammering. What had I asked her to do? "You take that away, and all that's left is the hunger."

My breath came in short splurges as I fought to remain upright. Did everyone know more about vampires than me? Jenks was a pixy, and he knew more about vampires than I did.

"I tried," Ivy whispered. "She doesn't want me to touch her that way." She took a shuddering breath, broken.

Jenks flicked a glance at me, seeing my cold face and realizing that she was telling the truth. Slowly he slid off her, and Ivy pulled herself upright, knees to her forehead, arms wrapped about her shins. She took a gasping breath and held it.

"Rachel didn't think it was wrong, did she?" Jenks pressed.

"She said she was sorry for waiting so long," Ivy whispered as if she didn't believe it. "But she saw the hunger, Jenks. She saw it raw, and I hurt her with it. She's not going to want anything to do with me - knowing that."

It was a very small voice, vulnerable and afraid, and Jenks watched me, not her. "Why are you trying to hide what you are?" he said softly, his words for both of us. "Do you think seeing your hunger shocked her? Do you think she's so shallow that she'd condemn you for it? That she didn't know it was in you and loved you anyway?"

Ivy shook with her head on her knees, and tears slipped from me. My head hurt and my neck throbbed, but it was nothing compared to my heartache.

"She loves you, Ivy. God knows why. She made a mistake in asking you to separate the love from the hunger, and you made a mistake thinking you could."

"I wanted what she could give me," Ivy said, curled up into herself. "Just that much would have been enough. Never again," she said. "Never, never, Jenks. She's safe. You're right. I destroy everything I touch."

I struggled to keep from passing out. She wasn't a monster. "Ivy?"

Her head jerked up. Her face was white and tracked with tears. "I thought you were unconscious," she said, scrambling to her feet and wiping her face.

Blinking, I wavered where I sat. Guilt lay thick on me, and Jenks sat cross-legged by the open door in a patch of sun, a faint, sad smile on him.

She stood in a frozen quandary. "Are you okay?" she asked, clearly wanting to rush over but afraid to. Between the blood loss and the absurdity of the question, I almost laughed.

"Uh-huh," I said, giving up on trying to have this make sense. "Can I have some water?" I whispered, then tipped over.

My neck sent a stab of pain to shock me and I couldn't breathe; my face was buried in the covers. I tried to cry out but was helpless. Damn it, even my arms wouldn't work.

"Oh God," Ivy said, her hands cold as she pulled me up. I took a grateful breath, trying to focus through the hurt. Jenks was at my feet, and he tugged them down until I was flat on my back and looking up at them with wide eyes, teetering on unconsciousness again now that the adrenaline had played itself out. The asinine relief that I had shaved my legs lifted through me and was gone.

"Here, Dad," Jax offered, that red straw in his two-fisted grip.

Jenks grabbed that absurdly small cup of water, never sloshing it as he retrieved it from the nightstand. "She's bleeding again," he said, his voice and face grim. "Dust her."

"Don't give her the water yet." Ivy was a confusing blur as I tried to focus. "I've got something to put in it."

Struggling to keep from passing out, I watched her snatch up her purse and rummage through it. My stomach clenched when she brought out a small vial. "Brimstone?" I whimpered, waiting for Jenks's protest.

But all I heard was his soft, "Not so much this time."

Ivy's oval face scrunched in anger as she unscrewed the top. "I know what I'm doing."

Jenks glared at her. "She's too weak for what you usually give her. She can't eat enough to support that high a metabolism with all the blood you took out of her."

"And you know all about that, don't you, pixy?" she said sarcastically.

So much for playing nice. Tired, I let my eyes shut while they argued, hoping I didn't die in the interim and make the problem moot. I wasn't ever going to get my water. Ever.

"Rachel?"

It was close and direct. Startled, I opened my eyes. Jenks was kneeling beside the bed with that cup and straw in his hand. Ivy was behind him, her arms crossed over her chest, cheeks spotted with red. Anger and worry warred in her expression. I'd missed something. "No Brimstone," I slurred, my hands rising to push it away. My throat tightened as my emotions swung from one extreme to the next. They were so worried about me.

Jenks furrowed his brow, looking too severe for someone so young. "Don't be stupid, Rache," he said, catching my arms and easily forcing them down. "You either take it with Brimstone or you'll be flat on your ass for four weeks."

He was swearing. I knew I must be doing better. I could smell the water. I couldn't move my arms under his soft restraint, and I felt sick. Why were they making me do this?

I looked at the straw, and taking that as a yes, Jenks slipped it between my lips. Breath held, I sucked it down, thinking the rusty water tasted better than the last cold beer I'd had. Tears started leaking out, my emotions thoroughly out of control. I thought of Ivy doing the same to me, bleeding me dry with that same metallic taste of me in her mouth.

I started to cry, choking on the water. Damn it, what in hell was wrong with me?

"That's enough," Ivy said softly. Through my watering eyes, I saw her reach out in concern, her hand touching Jenks's shoulder. He jumped, and Ivy pulled away, her face full of an inner pain.

She thought she was a monster. She thought she couldn't touch anyone without ruining them, and I had proved her right.

The enormity of her life's misery fell on me, and I started to shake.

"She's going into shock," Ivy said, oblivious to the real reason. I'd hurt her. I thought I had been strong enough to survive her, and by failing, I'd hurt her.

Jenks set the cup aside and rose. "I'll get a blanket."

"I've got it," she said, already gone.

My hands fluttered, and I realized I was getting sticky blood all over the bed. They were trying to help, but I didn't deserve it. I wished it had never happened. I had made a mistake, and they were both being so nice about it.

Another tremor shook me. I tried to scrunch up into myself for warmth. His green eyes pinched, Jenks pulled me upright, slipping in behind me. Curving his arms around me, he kept me from shaking apart.

Ivy wasn't pleased. "What are you doing?" she asked from across the room, her lips pressed tight as she shook out a brown motel blanket.

"I'm keeping her warm."

Jenks smelled like green things. His arms wrapped around me, and his front pressed into my back. My head was spinning and my neck was a hurting ache. I knew I shouldn't be sitting up like that, but I couldn't remember how to say "Down." I think I was still crying, since my face was wet and those noises in the background sort of sounded like me.

Ivy sighed, then came forward. "She's going to pass out if you keep her head up like that," she muttered as she draped the blanket over us.

"Pixy dust will hold her together for only so long," Jenks said softly. "And I don't want Jax to be fighting the gravity blood flow when he stitches her up."

My eyes flashed open. Stitches? Crap, not again. I'd just gotten rid of my scars. "Wait," I said, panic bringing me stiff at the thought of what it was going to feel like now that the vampire saliva was dormant. "No stitches. I want my pain amulet."

They didn't seem to understand me. Ivy bent close, looking at my eyes, not me. "We could take her to Emergency."

From behind me, Jenks shook his head. "The Weres would track us from there. I'm surprised they haven't found us already. I can't believe you bit her. We have four Were packs scenting for our blood, and you think now is a good time to change your relationship?"

"Shut the hell up, Jenks."

My stomach turned. I wanted my pain amulet. I wasn't a brave person. I'd seen the movie where they stitched up the guy with no anesthetic and bailing wire. It hurt. "Where's my amulet?" I pleaded, heart pounding. "Where's Keasley? I want Keasley."

Ivy pulled away. "She's going incoherent." Her brow furrowed, wrinkling her usually placid face. "Rachel?" she said loudly and with exaggerated slowness. "Listen to me. You should be stitched. Just four tiny stitches. I didn't rip you. It will be okay."

"No!" I exclaimed, my vision darkening. "I don't have my pain amulet!"

Ivy gripped my shoulder through the blanket. Her eyes were full of compassion. "Don't worry. With your head up like this, you're going to pass out in about three seconds."

She was right.

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