Sighing, I swung a chair around. I sat on it backward and put my folded arms on the counter, slumping to get my eyes on the same level as his. He wouldn't look at me. "Jenks," I said softly, and he sneered, wing's coming alive. "It's going to be okay. I'll find her and explain." I reached out, letting my hand fall to curve protectively around him. "She'll understand," I said, gazing at the cake and hearing the guilt in my voice. "She has to."
He looked at me, his arms uncrossing. "But she left," said plaintively.
My hand beside him moved in a motion of exasperation. "You know how she can be. She just needs to cool off. Maybe she went to spend the weekend at Skimmer's?"
"She took her computer."
Glancing at the empty space, I winced. "She couldn't have found out that fast. What time did she leave?"
"Right before midnight." He stopped pacing and looked at me sideways. "It was really weird. Like that movie where the guy gets a call and it triggers a set of actions programmed into him years ago? What's the name of that movie?"
"I don't know," I muttered, glad he wasn't yelling at me anymore. She couldn't have left because of this. Kisten and I hadn't even had dinner yet by midnight.
"She wouldn't answer me," he said. He resumed pacing, and I watched, wondering how much of his outburst had been worry for Ivy finding an easy outlet in anger at me. "She just packed her clothes and her computer and her music and left."
My eyes went to the fridge and the empty tomato magnet. "She took our picture."
"Yeah."
I pulled myself up. Something had happened, but it was unlikely she knew about Kisten and me, and there was no way for her to find out until she got back. Jenks was the only one who knew; I had taken the bus home, so even Steve wouldn't smell Kisten's blood in me. "Who called? Skimmer?" I asked, wondering if it had simply been an emergency run. An emergency run she hadn't taken Jenks on? Or even told him what it was?
"I don't know," Jenks said. "I came in when I heard the whine of her computer shut off."
Lips pressed together, I thought about that.
"Why, Rachel?" Jenks asked, his voice tired.
I didn't move anything but my eyes. "My biting Kisten is not why she left."
His angular face pinched in distress. "Maybe someone found out and called her."
The thought of what Ivy was capable of in a fit of rage passed through me, and I reached for my shoulder bag. The timing was wrong, but still… "Maybe I should call Kisten."
He nodded in worry, coming closer as I punched the right buttons. I held the phone from my ear, and we both listened to it ring until it shunted me into voice mail. "Hey, Kisten," I said, eyes on Jenks, "give me a call when you get this. Ivy wasn't here when I got home. She took her computer and music. I don't think she knows, but I'm worried." I wanted to say more, but there wasn't more to say. " 'Bye," I whispered, and hit the "end" button. 'Bye? God, I sounded like a little lost girl.
Jenks peered up at me, the color returning to his wings. "Call Ivy," he demanded, but I was already ahead of him. This time I was dumped right into voice mail, and I left a guilty-sounding message that I had to talk to her and not to do anything until I talked to her. I wanted to say I was sorry, but I closed the phone and looked at it sitting alone on the counter.
Suddenly the pastries arranged on their plate looked trite. I was an ass. "Jenks…"
The coaxing in my voice turned his worry into a cold anger. "I don't want to hear about it. You screwed everything up for one moment of blood passion. Even if that's not why she left, she will when she finds out. What's wrong with you? Can't you leave things alone? "
"No, I can't!" I exclaimed. "And it wasn't just a moment of blood passion, it was an affirmation of what I feel for Kisten, so you can shove it, you little twit. I know what I'm doing," I said. He opened his mouth to protest, and I threw my hand up in the air. "Okay, maybe I don't, but I'm trying to figure this out. It's all mixed up. The blood, the passion. It's all mixed up, and I don't know what to do!"
He was clearly taken aback, and I surged ahead, almost panicked. "I want Ivy to bite me." I said. "It feels too damn good, and it would do both of us good. But the only way to do it safely is to sleep with her. And I'm not going to sleep with her just for the blood passion until I know what's going on in my head. I never thought I'd like a girl—I mean, I'm straight, right? Is it the vamp scar that's turning me on, or her? Do I love Ivy or just the way she can make me feel? There's a difference, Jenks, and I'm not going to cheapen it if it's only about the blood." I knew my face was red, but he deserved to hear it all. "Ivy made a pass at me because she knows I make decisions by doing stuff and then thinking about it, not the other way around. Well, I'm doing different stuff, and look how messed up everything got. Isn't this nice?" I said sarcastically, gesturing behind me at Ivy's empty place.
Jenks's wings went still, and he sat down on edge of the fudge plate. "Maybe you should try it," he said, and a spike of adrenaline shot through me and was gone. "Just once," he coaxed. "Sometimes the quickest way to find out who you are is to be that person for a while."
I'd thought of that already, and it scared me. Slowly I brought my eyes to his. "Then why are you upset that I bit Kisten?" I said. "That's me trying to be someone new. You think I would've done that a year ago? Why is it wrong when I try things with Kisten and not Ivy? "
His gaze went to her empty spot at the table. "Because Ivy loves you."
My gut tightened. "So does Kisten."
Jenks brought his knees to his chin and clasped his hands around his shins. "Ivy would die for you, Rachel. Kisten won't. Put your emotions where they will keep you alive."
It was a hard truth. Ugly. I didn't want to choose who I loved by who could keep me alive. I wanted to make decisions on who I loved by who completed me, made me feel good about myself. Who I could love freely and help make a better person by just being there. God, I was confused. Tired, I pillowed my head on my folded arms and stared at the table, inches from my nose. I heard the soft sound of wings, and the draft from Jenks stirred my hair.
"It's all right, Rachel," he said, close and concerned. "She knows you love her."
My throat closed, and I sighed. Maybe I should try it Ivy's way. At least as far as I could without becoming uncomfortable or freaked out. Just once. A moment of embarrassment would be better than all this confusion. And awkwardness. And misery.
The small dinner bell at the front door rang, and I jumped. Jenks's face was full of hope when I brought my head up, then fear. If something had happened to Ivy, I wouldn't get a phone call but a stone-faced I.S. agent on my doorstep telling me my roommate was in the city morgue.
"I got it," I said, the chair scraping as I rose. I hustled into the sanctuary, hoping it was Ivy with her stuff and needing someone to open the door for her.
"I'm right behind you," Jenks said, sounding grim as he joined me in the hall.