He frowned and stood, dropping back a few steps so he could see me. "It's what she is."

"I know." I took my hands from the wheel, placing them quietly in my lap. "She knows it, too."

Eyebrows high, Rynn Cormel made a soft sound. Rocking on his feet, he made motions to leave. "Rynn," I said, and he stopped. "She accepts what she is, and by God, I'm going to find a way to help her be who she wants to be."

My heart was pounding, but his worried expression melted into one of his famous smiles, and I wondered if I had just saved my own life with my promise to find a way for her to keep her soul. If he thought I meant to find a way to keep it after she died, then that was his prerogative. I was thinking something a little more immediate. Something we could both benefit from.

"Good," he said, hands in his pockets, looking harmless. "Enjoy your evening with your family, Rachel. Ivy will be fine."

I sat straighter, hope making my eyes wide. "Are you sure?"

His gaze never moved from the Hummer. "Her aura will be replaced as she satiates herself, and her strength will return in time. It's my people with her I'm worried about."

I couldn't help my smile at that, but it faded fast. She was out of control in that car, and she was going to hate herself when she came home. What she was pinning her sanity on now was that she hadn't allowed her hunger to rule her and satisfy it by savaging me. Her vow to abstain from blood had lasted thirty seconds.

"Rynn, don't push her," I said. "Please? Just make her better and send her back to me. I'll find a way for her to die with her soul. If it's possible, I'll find a way. I promise." Damn it, I'm going to have to talk to Trent. He had a way to make the vampire virus dormant, but from there, he might find a way to remove it. I wasn't sure if Ivy would agree to becoming human to lose her blood lust, but after tonight…she might.

The tall man inclined his head to acknowledge my words. Smiling, he jauntily returned to his second car. The driver emerged to open his door for him, and in a moment, both vehicles were gone.

I glanced at the clock, then noticed that Ivy's purse was still with me. I picked it up off the floor and put it on the seat where she'd been, then reached across and closed my broken door. Ivy's scent lingered, and I breathed it in, wondering how she was. My hands started to shake with the remaining adrenaline. I was late for my already postponed lunch. Robbie was going to have a field day.

Clearly I wasn't ready to risk the road yet. I was deathly worried about Ivy, but that was probably fair play. Ivy had been worried about me when I was in the hospital. Rynn Cormel said she was going to be all right, and I had to believe it. A vampire was a banshee's closest rival in terms of strength, having a fast way to rebound after an attack—blood to renew her aura, and Brimstone to revitalize her strength.

I slowly thunked the car into gear and crept up to the exit, turning my blinker on and sitting there, waiting for a break in traffic. As I sat there, it hit me that this was probably the turning point in our relationship. Ivy was a vampire who wanted to be more. Or maybe less. But she could never be who she wanted unless I could find a way to get the virus out of her. By magic or medicine, I was going to have to do that. I might not be able to be the person I wanted to be, but if I had to be a demon, I was, by God, going to make sure Ivy could be who she wanted to be.

Having to deal with stuff like this was just crappy.

Twenty-three

The scent of beef stew was heavy in my mom's kitchen, but even that, combined with the homemade biscuits Mom had pulled out of the oven when I walked in the door, hadn't blunted my worry for Ivy. Dinner might have been pleasant; I didn't remember. I'd been there for over an hour, and still no one had called about Ivy. Just how long did it take to replenish an aura?

Adding to my state was the fact that somewhere in this house was an eight-hundred-level arcane textbook that my brother was hiding from me. My life was falling apart, and I wasn't leaving without it. I should just tell my mom and have her make Robbie give it to me, but the last time I'd used it, I'd gotten into a lot of trouble. I didn't need any more trouble tonight. I'd maxed out on it. I was wound so tight a hangnail might have sent me over the edge.

I handed Robbie the last of the glasses and fumbled in the dishwater for the bowls. The shifting-eyed witch above the sink ticked, and from the back of the house, I heard my mom thumping around, trying to find something. It was odd standing here, like I had while I was growing up. I washed; Robbie dried. 'Course, I didn't need to stand on a footstool anymore, and Robbie wasn't wearing grunge. Some changes were good.

Heels clicking on the tile, my mom came in looking happy and satisfied. I couldn't help but wonder what she was up to—she looked far too pleased with herself—though just having me and Robbie here at the sink like old times might account for it.

"Thanks for lunch, Mom," I said as I slipped a plate into the rinse water before Robbie could take it. "I'm sorry for dragging it out this late. I really thought I'd get over here sooner."

Robbie made a rude noise, but my mom beamed as she sat with her cold cup of coffee. "I know how busy you are," she said. "I just threw everything into the slow cooker, figuring we could eat whenever you got here."

I glanced at the ancient brown pot plugged into the wall, trying to remember the last time I had seen it, and if it had held food or a spell. God, I hoped it was food. "Stuff kept getting in the way. Trust me, I really wanted to be here earlier." Boy, did I want to be here earlier. I hadn't told them why I was late. Not with Robbie looking for a reason to needle me about my job. His mood tonight was bordering on smug, worrying me even more.

Robbie shut the door to the cupboard too hard. "Stuff always seems to happen to you, little sister. You need to make some changes in your life."

Excuse me? My eyes narrowed. "Like what?"

"It wasn't a problem, Robbie," my mom interrupted. "I knew she was probably going to be late. That's why I made what I did."

Robbie made that noise again, and I felt my blood pressure rise.

My mom got up and gave me a sideways squeeze. "If I knew you weren't trying to do ten things before the Turn, I'd be miffed. Want some coffee?"

"Yes. Thanks." My mom was pretty cool. It wasn't often that she took sides between Robbie and me, but he'd been on my case all night.

I handed him a plate, not letting go until he looked at me and I gave him a glare to get him to shut up. I really thought he'd been lying when he told me the book wasn't where he'd left it, trying to make me do things his way by force instead of persuasion—because persuasion wasn't going to work. I had to get up in that attic without my mom knowing. I didn't want to worry her. Snatching a ghost to get a demon to talk to you didn't sound safe even to me.

So when I handed the last dish to my brother, I used my perfect excuse, smiling as the sink drained. "Mom," I said as I dried my hands, "are my stuffed animals still in the attic? I have someone I want to give them to."

Robbie jerked, and my mom beamed. "I expect so," she said. "Who? Ceri's little girl?"

I allowed myself one superior look at Robbie, then went to sit across from my mom. We'd known Ceri was having a girl since last week, and my mom was as delighted as if it were one of her own. "No," I said as I fiddled with my mug. "I want to give them to some of the kids in the children's wing of the hospital. I met the brat pack yesterday. The ones who spend more time there than at home? It just seems right. You don't think Dad would mind, do you?"