His silvering hair shone in the sun as he nodded. "Seems like a wise assumption."

A heavy sigh sifted through me. The two of them had a long association, both knowing that business was business and not caring that it had been Al's testimony that put Piscary in away. So now Piscary was out of prison. The city was safe, but I was in trouble. Sounded about right.

I had my pillow under my arm, my blanket draped over my shoulder, and the bucket holding the radio and thermos in my hand. Catching my balance, I said softly, "Thank you for slowing me down last night." He said nothing, and I added, "I have to get her out of there."

Keasley set an arthritic hand atop a stone as we passed, halting. "You make one move toward Piscary and I'll plug you with another charm."

I scowled, and with a toothy grin Keasley handed me my splat gun.

"Ivy is a vampire, Rachel," the old man said, his mirth evaporating. "Unless you start taking some responsibility, you should accept that she is where she belongs and walk away."

My posture stiffened, and I tugged my blanket up when it slipped. "Just what in hell does that mean?" I snapped, dropping the gun in with the radio.

Keasley, though, smiled, his narrow chest moving as he caught his breath. "Either make your relationship official or let her go."

Surprised, I stared at him, squinting in the strong morning light. "Excuse me?"

"Vampires have an unbreakable mind-set," he said, putting an arm over my shoulder and starting us to the gate. "Apart from the master vampires, they physically need to look to someone stronger than them. It's hardwired in, like Weres and their alphas. Ivy looks powerful because there are so few people stronger than she. Piscary's one. You're another."

My steps, slow to match his, grew even slower. "I can't best him. Despite what I wanted to do last night." God, it was embarrassing. I deserved to have been downed by my own spell.

"I never said you could beat Piscary," the old witch said as we helped each other over the uncertain footing of the graveyard. "I said you were stronger than him. You can help Ivy be who she wants, but if she can't let go of her fear and make peace with her needs, she's going to fall back to Piscary. I don't think she's decided yet."

I felt odd. "How do you figure that?"

His wrinkles deepened. "Because she didn't try to kill you last night."

My stomach clenched. How come he can see things so clearly and I'm thicker than a cement wall? Must go along with the wise-old-man image. "We tried it once," I said softly, wanting to touch my neck. "She almost killed me. She says the only way she can control her blood lust is if we mixed it with sex. Otherwise she loses control, and I'd have to hurt her to get her to back off. I can't, Keasley. I won't mix the ecstasy of bloodletting with hurting her. It's wrong and sick."

My pulse had quickened from the foul thought that that's what Piscary did… and what he had turned her into. I knew that my face was red, but Keasley didn't seem shocked when brought his attention up. His brow pinched, he gave me a pitying look. "You're in a spot, aren't you?"

We passed the foot-high wall that divided the graveyard from the backyard. Pixies were everywhere, the sunlight flashing on their wings. This was really uncomfortable, but who else could I talk to? My mom? "So," I said softly, angling us to the tall gate that led to the street, "you think it's my fault she went running to Piscary? Because I can't bring myself to hurt her if she loses control and I won't sleep with her?"

Keasley grunted. "Ivy thinks like a vampire. You should start thinking like a witch."

"You mean like a charm?" I offered, recalling Ivy's aversion to them, then flushed at the eagerness in my voice. "Maybe one to mute her hunger or calm her without hurting her? "

His head went up and down, and I slowed our pace, seeing him start to labor. "So what are you going to do?" he asked, his hand landing on my shoulder. "I mean today."

"Plan something out and go get her," I admitted. I didn't know what to think anymore.

He was silent. Then, "If you try, he'll tighten his grip on her."

I went to protest, and he pulled me to a stop, facing me. His dark eyes were thick with warning. "You walk in there, and Piscary will make her kill you. Trust her to get herself out. Piscary is her master, but you are her friend, and she still has her soul."

"Trust her?" I said, shocked he thought I should do nothing. "I can't leave her there. He blood-raped her the last time she said no when he told her to kill me."

A soft hand on my shoulder pushed us into motion. "Trust her," he said simply. "She trusts you." His chest rose and fell in a sigh. "Rachel, if she walks away from Piscary without someone to assume his protection, the first undead vampire she runs into will use and abuse her."

"Like Piscary isn't abusing her?" I scoffed.

"She needs protection as much as you do," he chided. "And if you can't give her that, you shouldn't condemn her for sticking with the only person who can."

Put that way, it made sense. But I didn't like it. Especially when, if you thought about it, Piscary was protecting me through her. Oh, swell…

"Give her a reason for her to get herself out and she'll stand with you," Keasley said as we reached the wooden gate. "You know what that will make her?"

"No," I said, thinking it made me a coward.

He smiled at my sour expression, then took his thermos out of the bucket. "It will make her into someone no one can manipulate. It's who she wants to be."

"This is crap," I said as he lifted the latch and the gate opened. "She needs my help!"

Snorting, Keasley propped the folding chair against the wall and shuffled over the threshold. Past him, the street was quiet and damp with dew. "You've already helped her. You gave her a choice besides Piscary."

I dropped my eyes. It wasn't enough. I wasn't enough. I couldn't protect her against the undead. I couldn't protect myself—thinking I could protect her was ludicrous.

Keasley paused in the threshold. "I'll be honest with you," he said. "I don't like the idea of same-sex relationships. It doesn't seem right to me, and I'm too old to start thinking different. But I do know you're happy here. From what Jenks tells me, Ivy is, too. Which makes it hard for me to think you're making a mistake or that it's wrong. Whatever you do."

If I knew the charm to curl up and die, I would have used it. As it was, I watched my feet and moved forward to stand in the gate. Sort of like what I was doing in my life.

"Are you going after Piscary?" he asked suddenly.

Warm under my blanket, I jiggled on my feet. "I want to."

"Smart decisions, Rachel," he said with a sigh. "Make smart decisions."

Restlessness filled me as he headed to his tired-looking house a few homes up the street. "Keasley, tell Ceri I'm sorry for pushing her down," I called after him.

He raised a hand to acknowledge me. "I will."

Jenks dropped from the tree overhead to land atop the gate, making me think he'd been eavesdropping again. I glanced at him, then yelled to Keasley, "Can I come over later?"

Pausing at the curb to let the minivan belonging to the only human family on the street pass, Keasley smiled to show coffee-stained teeth. "I'll make lunch. Tuna sandwiches okay?"

The minivan beeped, and Keasley returned the driver's wave. I couldn't help my smile. The elderly witch carefully stepped off the curb and started home, head up and eyes scanning.

Jenks rose when the gate thumped shut, and with the splat gun rattling against the radio, I made for the back door. "And where were you when Keasley downed me?" I asked Jenks tartly.

"Right behind him, stupid. Who do you think told him what you stocked your splat gun with?"