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will be here by sunup.
She was ending the conversation, but I wasn t going to let her go that easy. Ivy, I said as I rose,
gathering my bag from beside hers, wanting to try again. I
She jerked to her feet, shocking me to silence. Don t, she said, eyes black in the streetlight. Just
don t. I made a mistake. I just want everything to be the way it was.
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But I didn t.
Twenty-eight
There was an unfamiliar car next to Nick s dented pickup when we pulled into the motel s lot. Ivy was
driving, and I watched her eyes go everywhere before she turned the wheel and stopped in an open spot.
It was a black BMW with a rental sticker. At least it appeared black; it was hard to tell in the streetlight.
Engine still running, Ivy looked at it, her gaze giving nothing away. Thinking Walter had changed his mind,
I went to get out.
Wait, Ivy said, and I tensed.
From our room, a shaft of light spilled from a curtain being pulled aside. Nick s long face peered out,
and upon seeing us, he let the fabric fall. Ivy cut the engine, the low rumble dying to leave only the
memory of it echoing. Okay, she said. Now you can get out.
I would have gotten out even if it had been Water, but relieved, I yanked the door open and eased from
the leather seats. Our cut-short conversation at the trolley stop had left me unsettled. I d let her think all
she had to do was say no and everything was settled, but she would be replaying the conversation in her
head for days. And when the time was right, I was going to bring it up again. Maybe over a carton of red
curry takeout.
I got our bags from the back, their soft rattle mixing with the aggressive rumble of the street-racer escort
we had to the motel. I hate plastic, Ivy said, taking the bags from me and rolling them so they quit
rattling.
The door to our room opened and I squinted at the light.So that s why Ivy always used canvas bags . It
wasn t because she was especially ecominded. They were quiet.
The light cut off as Nick slipped out and eased the door shut behind him. The street Weres in the lot
across the road revved their cars, and I waved sarcastically to them. They didn t wave back, but I saw
the flicker of a lighter when they lit up and settled in.
Nick looked more than a little concerned as he came to meet us, his eyes fixed on the Weres. His tall,
gaunt stature still leaned slightly, and he favored his left foot. Your vampire friends are here, he said,
pulling his attention from the Weres to touch on the black BMW. They flew in from Chicago on a
puddle jumper soon as the sun was down.
My attention jerked to the motel room door and I stopped moving.Great. I looked like warmed-up crap
. What are they doing here already? I asked no one in particular. They aren t supposed to be here
until almost dawn. I don t have any of my spells made up yet.
Ivy looked bothered too. Apparently they wanted some time to settle in before sunrise, she said,
running her hands down her leather pants and tugging her coat straight.
Rudely knocking Nick s shoulder, she pushed past him. I fell into place behind her, ignoring Nick trying
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to get my attention. Jenks had been running interference for me, telling Nick I was tired from too much
spelling and the scuffle with the Weres. He didn t know Ivy and I had had a blood tryst, and though I
didn t give a fig leaf what the bastard thought, I was guiltily glad that the collar of my jacket made it hard
to see my tiny stitches.
Ivy walked in without preamble, dropping the bags just inside the door and moving to the three people
at the table by the curtained window. They looked terribly out of place in the low-ceilinged room full of
beds and our suitcases, and it would have been obvious who was in charge even if Ivy hadn t stopped
before the oldest, gracefully executing a soft bow that was reminiscent of a martial arts student to her
instructor. He smiled to show a slip of teeth and no warmth.
I took a slow breath. This might be a little hairy.
DeLavine was one of Chicago s higher master vampires, and he looked it, dressed in dark slacks and a
linen shirt. He had trimmed and styled sand-colored hair, a youthful face, and a sparse frame that gave
him an ageless look. It was probably a charm that kept him looking a late thirty-something. Most likely he
was wrinkled and twisted. Vampires usually spent every last penny of their first life, using a yearly witch
potion to look as young as they wanted.
His eyes were dark, showing only the slightest widening of pupils. A twinge came from my neck when
his gaze traveled lightly over me in dismissal. His attention returned to Ivy, making me both relieved and
ticked; he thought I was her shadow. How nice was that?
DeLavine sat like a king surrounded by his court, a glass of water on the scratched table beside him and
his legs confidently crossed. Atop the back of an empty chair was a carefully folded, long cashmere coat;
everyone else was still wearing theirs. He had the air of someone who had taken time out of his busy
schedule to personally take his child to the doctor s office and was waiting to see how they were going to
help his little boy get over the chicken pox.
Though concerned, he wasn t worried. He reminded me of Trent, but where Trent moved on logic,
DeLavine clearly moved out of hunger or a forgotten sense of responsibility. Rex sat in the middle of the
floor before him, head cocked as if trying to figure out what he was.
I m right there with you, cat.
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