Don't Cry for Me, Argentina (Owl to Ivy from Rachel)

[racheltherunner]

Comments

[tamwood]

After having fed and replied to the last letter, Ivy had simply collected the painting, walked back to the castle, and curled up on her couch. By the Turn, she felt great. Great enough to lie back and do nothing but listen to Takata's newest CD, singing softly along with the vampire-ears-only parts.

It was times like this that she truly understood why blood was such a passion for vampires. Newly fed, the sheer feeling of power and heat was enough to make her wonder why she'd ever sworn off blood. For the moment, there was no shame, no guilt - just a satisfaction that came with living to her true vampire nature.

The next letter Ivy calmly opened and read almost impassively, ignoring the worry that was dully flashing in the back of her mind.

--

Rachel,

You're a big girl, you don't need my tips to stay alive. Until you do, because you're too stubborn to realize when you're walking into real danger.

Do send me a letter if you get yourself caught. I'm sure I could work something out with the Martinez family to get you free; we've had dealings in the past.

- Ivy

[racheltherunner]

It was funny - a glass of water crashing onto dirt didn't make remotely the satisfying sound one might expect.

The run had been a mistake. Who else saw that coming? I had managed to get away without being bit. Barely. And when I said 'barely' I meant it in the most exacting of terms. I meant it as in teeth scraping the skin of my neck, and saliva dripping down to pool in between my breasts.

How I got away was a long story and not one I was dwelling on. Let's just say that ley line magic is no match for a vampire. Even one who thinks they've just found the Happy Meal of unbound delights.

Ivy's letter, however, made the sour taste of terror and helplessness that overwhelmed me on the Martinez compound seem like child's play. I hated her like this. I hated what feeding on blood, letting herself go, did to her. She became this thing, and I couldn't reach her anymore.

So angry (and worried, though hell if I'd admit to that) I was shaking, I scrawled out a few lines before tumbling back into bed. A whole day of struggling for my soul against waves of false pleasure did not a happy witch make.

---

Ivy,

Don't ever write me when you're like this again.

You can just go Turn yourself. I made it just fine without you before and I sure as hell can do it again.

Don't worry. Old Oli-boy is cooling his heels in the company of the weres he ripped off. Hope they take off his fucking head and stuff it full of garlic.

- Rachel

[tamwood]

It had been a few hours, and Ivy had dozed off - warm, content, sleepy from a full stomach and lulled by Takata's music. She'd wondered why she didn't do this more often - if she just let go of her silly little inhibitions, she could feel like this... constantly.

The next letter startled her awake. Reading what Rachel had written brought on the first stirrings of anger and worry, but it was too soon for any kind of real concern.

Nonetheless, she penned a reply. Three, in fact.

--

Rachel,

Your choice. Just don't come crawling back to me when you realize you've given up on friendship over something so insignificant as blood.

- Ivy

--

Rachel,

You didn't make it fine without me, and I think I've lost count of the number of times I've had to save your ass. Congratulations on the run, though. Poor Oliver is probably furious.

I might just have to drink blood more often. I feel fantastic. If I felt like this the night you came on to me, I never would have turned you down. We

--

Rachel,

When are you coming back? I miss

--

But all three of them were crumpled up and thrown behind Ivy's couch, never to be sent. She scowled at the bird until it went away, and curled back up on her bed. If Rachel was going to be like that, then fine. Ivy didn't need her.