I snarled, his hands suddenly caught in mine as I surged forward, pinning him once more. Then I gently touched my nose to his, nuzzling him, smiling. "No. Why would you--"
My scar was tingling. The heat of it was coursing through me in waves, nearly masked by the hunger but still there. My scar was tingling and Peter wasn't a vampire. Which mean that...
Oh god.
Flinging myself off of him, I pushed myself off the bed, scuttling back into a corner, my fingers flying up to touch my teeth. Oh God. Panicking, I stared, wide-eyed at Peter, struggling for any kind of control. "Get out," I all but moaned, harshly. "God, Peter, get out." I wasn't going to be able to hold back for any signifigant amount of time with him in there, all rumpled and delicious and the memory of him under me. Shuddering, I closed my eyes, grimacing. "Get Ivy. Now."
I was shaking, terrified, my arms wrapped around my legs as if I could pull myself into nonexistence. Groaning again as the drive pushed me harder, pumping out more pheromones to get Peter to come to me, I tried to find a damn off switch or something.
I was a freaking vampire. Witches couldn't be turned. They couldn't. But I was, and I didn't know how to control any of it.
"Peter, please," I murmured in a whimper. For him to come closer so I could finish what I'd started or for him to run before I lost it completely, I didn't know. But one thing was for sure - he had about ten seconds before his thoughts on the subject wouldn't matter anymore.
Watching, dumbfounded, as Rachel reacted negatively and cornered herself, Peter simply stared. He'd been enjoying that, too, damn it. Even if it was something he'd been trying to make not happen, he still couldn't help but feel disappointed that it was over.
And even as Rachel was telling him to get out, to get Ivy, Peter just lifted himself out of bed and started approaching her slowly as if she were a cornered, skittish animal. Of course, telling Peter to do something would only make him do the opposite, and he was worried, now. Not to mention that there was a need, of sorts, weighing down his stomach and driving him closer. That same something in the air, compressing his more logical thoughts and turning everything into base instinct.
Whatever was happening, he'd help Rachel through it.
He crouched down in front of her, trying to push away the weird magnetism, and wrapped a hand around her shoulder. "Hey, what is it? Did you take something?" If she was on drugs, then they had to be fairly heavy duty, considering how black her eyes were. Hallucinogens, maybe, but she had recognized him.
Breathing harsh between my teeth, I cursed stubborn humans everywhere. Turn it, could he not, just once, run when I told him to? "No," I managed. "Something... God, Peter." The last words were said in a harsh little moan of need. My eyes locked on his and I felt even my small amount of control fade.
My movements turned vampire-smooth, grace and swiftness that simply weren't normal for me. Lifting my hand, I tilted my head and watched my finger as I traced from his ear down the curve of his throat to his shoulder. A hunger was evident in my eyes and I breathed out a low, crooning sigh.
Instinct was battling against reason and winning gloriously. Desperate, I tried to tap into a line, to make a circle to keep him away, but I couldn't find it. I was completely without magic, and that surge of panic was almost enough to push me over the edge.
My lips met his in an eager, desperate kiss, hand threading in his hair. My other hand ran down his side, my palm flat against his skin. "You should have run," I murmured as my fingers brushed against the front of his boxers. I wanted this. Even beyond what that freaking chocolate had done, beyond the instincts that were now driving me, God, I wanted him.
And it was that want that made me stop. Because I loved him. And if we were going to do this, to take this step, I - not the vampire, but me - wanted it to be because he wanted it. Not because as a vampire I could play his desires as easily as breathing. A strangled groan teased from my throat.
"It's not real," I said, almost a sob. "This isn't real. Peter, please, you have to tell me to stop. I don't know if I can if you don't. Please, please, tell me to stop. It's not real. I got turned, I don't know how, none of this is real. I'm begging you, tell me to stop." I was stock still, lips still barely brushing his, fingers still in his hair, hand still idly stroking against him, feather-light. I couldn't move but I knew that this would end with me advancing unless he stopped it.
If Peter's brain had been functioning properly, he might have noticed a few things that were very different about Rachel. The sudden confident grace, the attitude that demanded he do nothing but give into this. Why should he have run? Peter couldn't see anything wrong or dangerous with this, it was just... a little more sudden than he'd expected.
And despite the fact that he was more than enjoying this, Peter found himself oddly paralyzed. He wanted to do something, to give back, but whatever it was that was in the air was freezing him with a mind-numbing combination of fear and willing desire. It was okay if he gave into this, right? He wanted to - even his blood felt hotter than usual, rushing through his veins and crying out for...
Wait. Something was wrong.
Breathing heavily, wanting nothing more than to just pick Rachel up and throw her onto the bed (or let her do it, whichever worked, she was strong enough), Peter braced his hands against her shoulders and pushed, forcing a few feet of distance between them. "Jesus," he panted in shock, eyes wide, hair falling over his face and making no move to get off the floor. "What the hell? Just... stop, Rachel. This isn't you."
Collapsing back into a ball, I let out a tense breath of relief. "No, no, it's not," I confirmed, my arms wrapping tightly around my knees, nails digging into my arms as I forced myself to stay still, to not push Peter down and my teeth into his neck...
Oh God.
Closing my eyes, I repeated, "You have to get Ivy. Peter, something's wrong. And if you don't get her then I don't know how long I can control myself. I ate a chocolate, now I'm..."
I didn't want to say it. I just lifted my eyes to him, terrified and so hungry. "I think I'm a vampire. And I need Ivy because I don't know what to do." My face crumpled into despair and I lowered my head again, resting it on my knees. It was like all my nightmares come true, and Peter's fear was driving me crazy. "Please."
The flash of pointed teeth as Rachel spoke was more than enough to push Peter into action. He immediately scrambled up off the floor, pulling on the nearest pair of pants and a shirt that he could find. He didn't want to leave Rachel alone, but realistically, she'd actually be safer alone. And if she was asking for Ivy, then she was at least thinking clearly.
"I'll, ah, I'll be back soon," he stammered, rushing out the door. From what he'd read of vampires - even ones that were turned that way via chocolate and therefore wouldn't be permanent - he didn't want to stick around and find out exactly how much power she could hold over him.
Fifteen minutes - and a very brief, rushed conversation - later, Ivy was stalking through the door of the tent. She'd only just woken up, and under the noon sun she felt as human as she would ever feel. Peter had told her about the situation, but the concentration of vampire pheromones in the air still stopped her cold. Scents hit her like smacks over the head; the mingled scent of Peter and Rachel, arousal, desire, and something she never thought she'd smell, a vampire Rachel.
"By the Turn," she muttered, trying to get herself under control before she did anything. She could see Rachel in the corner, obviously desperately trying to restrain her hunger. It would be shocking in its strength, simply because she'd never felt it before.
"Can you fix it?" Peter piped up anxiously from behind her, shifting his weight from foot to foot. Ivy could smell Rachel all over him - he was flustered, disheveled. He'd been Rachel's first target, but at least she hadn't bitten him.
Features setting in determination, Ivy placed her hand on Peter's chest and pushed, literally shoving him outside the tent and slamming the door in his face. Not listening to his faint protests, she locked the door. "Rachel," she pitched her voice low, calm and controlled. "Just focus. Pick something boring, and focus on it." That would only be the first stage, but Ivy wanted to calm her down as much as possible.
Wave after wave of hunger, desire, frustration, want had forced me even further into a ball in the corner. Just barely aware of anything but an intense need that filled every inch of me, I didn't really realize Peter was gone until I heard him approaching the tent with Ivy. I smelled her coming in, her and Peter together, and the combination made me whimper slightly, burying my head down and folding my arms more tightly around myself.
I tried. Turn knows I tried. Something boring... Desperately I flailed around my brain for anything to focus on. But there wasn't anything there but that intense hunger, and I was such crap at denying myself that I had no point of reference for the self-control needed for this.
With a smooth speed that made it seem like I hadn't moved at all, I was up and pushing Ivy back into the wall with a snarl. One arm braced across her chest and my face was close to hers, eyes black and lips pulled back. For a second I surged forward, body pressed against hers, every inch of me screaming for something I could hardly understand.
But then I blinked, trying to control it. "Peter?" I asked, voice low and shaky. God, what had I done? Almost done. He was never going to speak to me again. "Ivy, what's happening to me?" The lost, broken quality of my voice scared me more than just about anything else. My eyes dropped to Ivy's throat and I whimpered with need. God, this was impossible; how the hell did she function every day?
A low, dangerous rumble of a growl started in Ivy's throat, her lip curling upwards in a snarl to show off a pointed tooth. Though she didn't move, the relaxed state of her muscles made it quite clear that she could get out of this hold any time she wanted. Rachel might have the vampire strength, now, but Ivy knew how to use it, how to channel and focus it.
Normally, Ivy accepted Rachel as something of an alpha. Rachel was a Witch, and while not physically stronger than a vampire, she could deal a lot more damage via magic. Rachel was the one that Ivy trusted to tell her to stop, to exert her dominance and cut off anything wrong that Ivy might be doing.
Now, however, was different. Her instincts no longer recognized Rachel; all they saw was a younger, more rash vampire to be curbed and disciplined. The more human portion of Ivy's mind was horrified that Rachel had to go through this, aching in sympathy. She'd wanted Rachel to know what it was like, but not like this.
"Peter told me you ate a chocolate," she explained calmly, her own eyes darkening to black and staring Rachel down. "This is only temporary, a few hours, maybe. You need to get yourself under control. If we get away from this tent, it'll be easier, because you won't have to smell so many scents."
Forcing my eyes up to Ivy, I nodded slowly, licking my lower lip. "Yeah. Yeah, okay." I could do this.
Ragged breaths lifted my chest, but I managed to push back from Ivy, limbs feeling shaky and weak. Without a word, I turned and walked away, back into the bedroom, slamming the door behind me.
This was so much shit. Instead of panicking, though, I just let myself fall back into whatever instincts were current. Languidly, I dressed, not even paying attention to what I put on. The vampire part of me was hunting and dressed accordingly. The human portion of my brain had shut down, too freaked out to do anything but just go along for the ride. Calmly sliding on my boots, I then slid back out to Ivy, every movement smooth and sensual.
"Where's Peter?" I asked, lips quirked up into a dangerous smile. I wanted to finish our conversation.
Needles to say, Ivy had mixed reactions to Rachel's new appearance. It was hot, in a sinful, provocative way, an outer appearance for Rachel's new dangerous vampire side. The initial rush of desire Ivy felt had to be quickly restrained - her own lust, her own love, had no place here. Outwardly, though, Ivy simply shook her head in exasperation, hair falling loose around her face. New vampires always went for the clothes like that. As for herself, Ivy was simply dressed in a pair of gray jeans and a black silk shirt, nothing special. There was no need when she wasn't hunting.
"He's outside." Ivy's words were curt as she clamped a hand on Rachel's shoulder, unlocking the front door and steering her outside. The fresh air was an overwhelming relief to Ivy's senses, the gentle wind washing away most of the mingled scent of Rachel and Peter.
As it turned out, Peter was nowhere to be found, but Ivy could care less about that. "Or not," she muttered under her breath, inwardly relieved. Rachel didn't need another distraction. "Come on, we're going for a walk." Ivy was going to lead Rachel to the lake - away from people, away from the smells of people. Plan B was safely tucked away, just in case.
The lack of Peter was like a punch to the gut and I panicked, momentarily, the sour twist of fear breaking my vamp calm. I needed him here. I was terrified and he needed to be there. I was just this side of going crazy and I'd come to rely on him far too much over the past weeks for him to just disappear on me.
But the fresh air was steadying, and some of the hunger retreated without the scents assaulting me. Nodding once, jerkily, I shrugged off her touch. It suddenly became all too clear why Ivy clung to our friendship. Ten minutes in, and I was already leaning on someone else to keep me sane, to hold me in. Peter could stop me, I knew, if I went too far. He was my safety net. That's what I was to Ivy.
Terrified now of more than just my fresh and shiny new pointed teeth, I scanned the area for Peter one more time before giving up. God, I needed him right now. Turning back to Ivy, I let out a breath, my eyes slowly returning to normal.
"How do you do this?" I asked, genuinely in awe. "I'm a heartbeat away from just biting the next person we come across. If Peter hadn't told me to stop, I would have bitten him. How do you--" Live with me. "Control yourself?" I finished lamely.
It was nearly a tangible feeling to Ivy as Rachel got herself under control, the black of her eyes retreating into green. Ivy's own had already faded free of the black; she was composed, serene, and trembling internally. That she knew this was only temporary didn't let her fear fade - this was dangerous. If either of their instincts were roused, it would trigger the other and control would become virtually impossible. Vampires were little more than creatures of darkness and desire. Self-control was hard.
The question made her pause, lowering her eyes in faint embarrassment. Rachel had never asked how, and despite the situation, Ivy felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe Rachel would be able to understand.
"I can control myself because of you," she answered, raising her eyes to meet Rachel's, a myriad of hidden emotions lurking in her expression. No matter what happened between them, no matter what (and who) Rachel did, Ivy would never love her any less. Not just because she wanted to rely on Rachel to keep her sane, but because of... Rachel. "The hunger gets bad, really intensely strong sometimes. It's harder then, but I think of you. I think about how horrified you would be if I killed someone for blood." It was love, pure and simple, that kept Ivy from spinning out of control. "It's trust, and a want to be better than mere instincts."
Cutting herself off before she made the situation too awkward, Ivy turned and started striding forward, leading the way towards the lake. "Come on," she called. "The less people you're around, the better."
Ivy was moving forward, but I was frozen, standing and staring at where she'd just been. What she'd said beat around my brain, exalting and humbling all at the same time. How could that be possible? I was...me. And Ivy was...well, she was glory. That she constantly strove to be better, to be more, was one reason I loved her. And the revelation that some of that drive was possible because of me was mind blowing.
Pulling myself out of my thoughts, I trotted after Ivy, catching up to the other vampire quickly. "Yeah," I said ruefully, rubbing absently at my scar. "I'm beginning to get that."
The shore of the lake was thankfully empty and I sank to sit on a log overlooking the water, resting my face in my hands. "You could be wrong," I said suddenly into the quiet. "When you were gone, I turned into a pixie for weeks. This might... I don't know how long I'll be like this."
My eyes turned to her, studying her face. "I don't want to hurt anyone," I pleaded in a hoarse whisper. As soon as I admitted the words out loud, a sharp jolt of fear echoed through me. "I'm not as strong as you, Ivy. You know I'm not. I don't know if I can handle this if it lasts more than a few hours." Even right then I was thinking about how it would feel to have her under me, over me, to feel her pulling at my blood, to take hers...
God, I didn't want this. Even as it became all I could think about, I was scared to death. Instincts and I had always been pretty closely wound, most of my life based on gut reactions. That made me ill equipped to become a creature virtually ruled by them.
The news that Rachel had been a pixie for weeks caught Ivy by surprise; she knew about it, of course, having seen it. But she didn't know it had been that long. By the Turn, she hoped Rachel wasn't a vampire for that long.
Even as they were walking, Ivy's mind was already ticking. Planning for long term, connecting possibilities and discarding methods that would be useless in dealing with this. The good thing was: Rachel had called for her. It had been the smart thing to do. And Ivy could take it from here, plan what they were going to do - they, of course, because Ivy didn't intent to leave Rachel alone with this.
Sinking down gracefully to sit next to Rachel on the log, Ivy bent her head in thought. Plan B it was.
"I'm not going to lie to you," she said bluntly, turning to face Rachel, her knee knocking lightly against the other womans. "The hunger that you feel isn't going to go away. It will ebb and wane, but it will always be there." That was something Ivy knew all too well, having lived with it her entire life. It would come and go, starting from a simple want to an overwhelming, mind-shattering hunger that would destroy a persons sanity. "You need to decide how you want to go about this. You can abstain, and live with the hunger." Ivy hesitated, glancing away briefly. "Or I can let you drink my blood, and the hunger will fade for a period. It'll be easier, but... you'll have to keep doing it until you're a Witch again."
"No!" The word was said with too much force, betraying where my mind had already gone. But I shot backwards, up and off the log, putting distance between myself and Ivy. "I can't... I won't." The taking of blood wasn't something I was ready for. Especially not with Ivy. That would mean too much to her - far too much, from what she just told me - and I couldn't deal with that. Not now.
Without another word, I'd turned and was heading away. Oh, let's be honest. I was running. Because that's how I handled things I was afraid of. I ran.
I needed Peter and he was gone. So once I reached the tent village I realized that I had no place to go. Great.
Leaning against a tree, I folded my arms across my chest and closed my eyes, trying to think. I couldn't leave because God knew what I'd do if left on my own. I couldn't stay because I knew what I'd do. Options were slim and I didn't like any of them. I wasn't strong enough to abstain. I knew that. I had no delusions about my self-control. But I also knew that I could not ask Ivy to do what she'd offered. It wouldn't be fair. It would be cruel, in point of fact, and I loved her too much to let her go through that for me.
It didn't come as a surprise that Rachel reacted that violently. As she ran, Ivy simply looked over her shoulder to see which direction she was going, and followed at a much more sedate pace.
This was going to go nowhere, if Rachel kept following her impulses and did whatever she felt like doing. Ivy understood that that was normally how Rachel operated, but right now, it was a lot more detrimental than useful. Minutes later, she finally found Rachel leaning against a tree, obviously thinking. Ivy hated to interrupt, but she wasn't letting this go on any longer without instilling some measure of control in Rachel, one way or another.
"Rachel, get a grip," she announced. "There is no running from this. You ate a chocolate without knowing where it came from even when you should know better - it's not your fault that you're a vampire, but you are. And you have to deal with that. Otherwise you're going to go insane."
The offer to let her drink Ivy's blood had been a big thing, and despite the fact that she knew better, Ivy had to seal up her hurt and store it away. Rachel was confused and disorientated, and sh wasn't used to the idea of blood taking at all - that was it. "You have to be realistic about this. I know you, Rachel, which means we can take any idea of not drinking blood and throw it out the window. You simply don't have the control." Harsh, but true, in Ivy's mind. "Now you're going to have to pick someone. Me, your Peter, whoever. Someone you trust. And unless you want to snap and kill somebody, you are going to have to take their blood."
Ivy hated that she had to say this, hated that she was saying it after so many years of not practicing. But she knew how hard it was, and the cold truth was that practicing was a lot easier.
My scar was tingling. The heat of it was coursing through me in waves, nearly masked by the hunger but still there. My scar was tingling and Peter wasn't a vampire. Which mean that...
Oh god.
Flinging myself off of him, I pushed myself off the bed, scuttling back into a corner, my fingers flying up to touch my teeth. Oh God. Panicking, I stared, wide-eyed at Peter, struggling for any kind of control. "Get out," I all but moaned, harshly. "God, Peter, get out." I wasn't going to be able to hold back for any signifigant amount of time with him in there, all rumpled and delicious and the memory of him under me. Shuddering, I closed my eyes, grimacing. "Get Ivy. Now."
I was shaking, terrified, my arms wrapped around my legs as if I could pull myself into nonexistence. Groaning again as the drive pushed me harder, pumping out more pheromones to get Peter to come to me, I tried to find a damn off switch or something.
I was a freaking vampire. Witches couldn't be turned. They couldn't. But I was, and I didn't know how to control any of it.
"Peter, please," I murmured in a whimper. For him to come closer so I could finish what I'd started or for him to run before I lost it completely, I didn't know. But one thing was for sure - he had about ten seconds before his thoughts on the subject wouldn't matter anymore.
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And even as Rachel was telling him to get out, to get Ivy, Peter just lifted himself out of bed and started approaching her slowly as if she were a cornered, skittish animal. Of course, telling Peter to do something would only make him do the opposite, and he was worried, now. Not to mention that there was a need, of sorts, weighing down his stomach and driving him closer. That same something in the air, compressing his more logical thoughts and turning everything into base instinct.
Whatever was happening, he'd help Rachel through it.
He crouched down in front of her, trying to push away the weird magnetism, and wrapped a hand around her shoulder. "Hey, what is it? Did you take something?" If she was on drugs, then they had to be fairly heavy duty, considering how black her eyes were. Hallucinogens, maybe, but she had recognized him.
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My movements turned vampire-smooth, grace and swiftness that simply weren't normal for me. Lifting my hand, I tilted my head and watched my finger as I traced from his ear down the curve of his throat to his shoulder. A hunger was evident in my eyes and I breathed out a low, crooning sigh.
Instinct was battling against reason and winning gloriously. Desperate, I tried to tap into a line, to make a circle to keep him away, but I couldn't find it. I was completely without magic, and that surge of panic was almost enough to push me over the edge.
My lips met his in an eager, desperate kiss, hand threading in his hair. My other hand ran down his side, my palm flat against his skin. "You should have run," I murmured as my fingers brushed against the front of his boxers. I wanted this. Even beyond what that freaking chocolate had done, beyond the instincts that were now driving me, God, I wanted him.
And it was that want that made me stop. Because I loved him. And if we were going to do this, to take this step, I - not the vampire, but me - wanted it to be because he wanted it. Not because as a vampire I could play his desires as easily as breathing. A strangled groan teased from my throat.
"It's not real," I said, almost a sob. "This isn't real. Peter, please, you have to tell me to stop. I don't know if I can if you don't. Please, please, tell me to stop. It's not real. I got turned, I don't know how, none of this is real. I'm begging you, tell me to stop." I was stock still, lips still barely brushing his, fingers still in his hair, hand still idly stroking against him, feather-light. I couldn't move but I knew that this would end with me advancing unless he stopped it.
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And despite the fact that he was more than enjoying this, Peter found himself oddly paralyzed. He wanted to do something, to give back, but whatever it was that was in the air was freezing him with a mind-numbing combination of fear and willing desire. It was okay if he gave into this, right? He wanted to - even his blood felt hotter than usual, rushing through his veins and crying out for...
Wait. Something was wrong.
Breathing heavily, wanting nothing more than to just pick Rachel up and throw her onto the bed (or let her do it, whichever worked, she was strong enough), Peter braced his hands against her shoulders and pushed, forcing a few feet of distance between them. "Jesus," he panted in shock, eyes wide, hair falling over his face and making no move to get off the floor. "What the hell? Just... stop, Rachel. This isn't you."
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Oh God.
Closing my eyes, I repeated, "You have to get Ivy. Peter, something's wrong. And if you don't get her then I don't know how long I can control myself. I ate a chocolate, now I'm..."
I didn't want to say it. I just lifted my eyes to him, terrified and so hungry. "I think I'm a vampire. And I need Ivy because I don't know what to do." My face crumpled into despair and I lowered my head again, resting it on my knees. It was like all my nightmares come true, and Peter's fear was driving me crazy. "Please."
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"I'll, ah, I'll be back soon," he stammered, rushing out the door. From what he'd read of vampires - even ones that were turned that way via chocolate and therefore wouldn't be permanent - he didn't want to stick around and find out exactly how much power she could hold over him.
Fifteen minutes - and a very brief, rushed conversation - later, Ivy was stalking through the door of the tent. She'd only just woken up, and under the noon sun she felt as human as she would ever feel. Peter had told her about the situation, but the concentration of vampire pheromones in the air still stopped her cold. Scents hit her like smacks over the head; the mingled scent of Peter and Rachel, arousal, desire, and something she never thought she'd smell, a vampire Rachel.
"By the Turn," she muttered, trying to get herself under control before she did anything. She could see Rachel in the corner, obviously desperately trying to restrain her hunger. It would be shocking in its strength, simply because she'd never felt it before.
"Can you fix it?" Peter piped up anxiously from behind her, shifting his weight from foot to foot. Ivy could smell Rachel all over him - he was flustered, disheveled. He'd been Rachel's first target, but at least she hadn't bitten him.
Features setting in determination, Ivy placed her hand on Peter's chest and pushed, literally shoving him outside the tent and slamming the door in his face. Not listening to his faint protests, she locked the door. "Rachel," she pitched her voice low, calm and controlled. "Just focus. Pick something boring, and focus on it." That would only be the first stage, but Ivy wanted to calm her down as much as possible.
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I tried. Turn knows I tried. Something boring... Desperately I flailed around my brain for anything to focus on. But there wasn't anything there but that intense hunger, and I was such crap at denying myself that I had no point of reference for the self-control needed for this.
With a smooth speed that made it seem like I hadn't moved at all, I was up and pushing Ivy back into the wall with a snarl. One arm braced across her chest and my face was close to hers, eyes black and lips pulled back. For a second I surged forward, body pressed against hers, every inch of me screaming for something I could hardly understand.
But then I blinked, trying to control it. "Peter?" I asked, voice low and shaky. God, what had I done? Almost done. He was never going to speak to me again. "Ivy, what's happening to me?" The lost, broken quality of my voice scared me more than just about anything else. My eyes dropped to Ivy's throat and I whimpered with need. God, this was impossible; how the hell did she function every day?
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Normally, Ivy accepted Rachel as something of an alpha. Rachel was a Witch, and while not physically stronger than a vampire, she could deal a lot more damage via magic. Rachel was the one that Ivy trusted to tell her to stop, to exert her dominance and cut off anything wrong that Ivy might be doing.
Now, however, was different. Her instincts no longer recognized Rachel; all they saw was a younger, more rash vampire to be curbed and disciplined. The more human portion of Ivy's mind was horrified that Rachel had to go through this, aching in sympathy. She'd wanted Rachel to know what it was like, but not like this.
"Peter told me you ate a chocolate," she explained calmly, her own eyes darkening to black and staring Rachel down. "This is only temporary, a few hours, maybe. You need to get yourself under control. If we get away from this tent, it'll be easier, because you won't have to smell so many scents."
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Ragged breaths lifted my chest, but I managed to push back from Ivy, limbs feeling shaky and weak. Without a word, I turned and walked away, back into the bedroom, slamming the door behind me.
This was so much shit. Instead of panicking, though, I just let myself fall back into whatever instincts were current. Languidly, I dressed, not even paying attention to what I put on. The vampire part of me was hunting and dressed accordingly. The human portion of my brain had shut down, too freaked out to do anything but just go along for the ride. Calmly sliding on my boots, I then slid back out to Ivy, every movement smooth and sensual.
"Where's Peter?" I asked, lips quirked up into a dangerous smile. I wanted to finish our conversation.
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"He's outside." Ivy's words were curt as she clamped a hand on Rachel's shoulder, unlocking the front door and steering her outside. The fresh air was an overwhelming relief to Ivy's senses, the gentle wind washing away most of the mingled scent of Rachel and Peter.
As it turned out, Peter was nowhere to be found, but Ivy could care less about that. "Or not," she muttered under her breath, inwardly relieved. Rachel didn't need another distraction. "Come on, we're going for a walk." Ivy was going to lead Rachel to the lake - away from people, away from the smells of people. Plan B was safely tucked away, just in case.
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But the fresh air was steadying, and some of the hunger retreated without the scents assaulting me. Nodding once, jerkily, I shrugged off her touch. It suddenly became all too clear why Ivy clung to our friendship. Ten minutes in, and I was already leaning on someone else to keep me sane, to hold me in. Peter could stop me, I knew, if I went too far. He was my safety net. That's what I was to Ivy.
Terrified now of more than just my fresh and shiny new pointed teeth, I scanned the area for Peter one more time before giving up. God, I needed him right now. Turning back to Ivy, I let out a breath, my eyes slowly returning to normal.
"How do you do this?" I asked, genuinely in awe. "I'm a heartbeat away from just biting the next person we come across. If Peter hadn't told me to stop, I would have bitten him. How do you--" Live with me. "Control yourself?" I finished lamely.
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The question made her pause, lowering her eyes in faint embarrassment. Rachel had never asked how, and despite the situation, Ivy felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe Rachel would be able to understand.
"I can control myself because of you," she answered, raising her eyes to meet Rachel's, a myriad of hidden emotions lurking in her expression. No matter what happened between them, no matter what (and who) Rachel did, Ivy would never love her any less. Not just because she wanted to rely on Rachel to keep her sane, but because of... Rachel. "The hunger gets bad, really intensely strong sometimes. It's harder then, but I think of you. I think about how horrified you would be if I killed someone for blood." It was love, pure and simple, that kept Ivy from spinning out of control. "It's trust, and a want to be better than mere instincts."
Cutting herself off before she made the situation too awkward, Ivy turned and started striding forward, leading the way towards the lake. "Come on," she called. "The less people you're around, the better."
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Pulling myself out of my thoughts, I trotted after Ivy, catching up to the other vampire quickly. "Yeah," I said ruefully, rubbing absently at my scar. "I'm beginning to get that."
The shore of the lake was thankfully empty and I sank to sit on a log overlooking the water, resting my face in my hands. "You could be wrong," I said suddenly into the quiet. "When you were gone, I turned into a pixie for weeks. This might... I don't know how long I'll be like this."
My eyes turned to her, studying her face. "I don't want to hurt anyone," I pleaded in a hoarse whisper. As soon as I admitted the words out loud, a sharp jolt of fear echoed through me. "I'm not as strong as you, Ivy. You know I'm not. I don't know if I can handle this if it lasts more than a few hours." Even right then I was thinking about how it would feel to have her under me, over me, to feel her pulling at my blood, to take hers...
God, I didn't want this. Even as it became all I could think about, I was scared to death. Instincts and I had always been pretty closely wound, most of my life based on gut reactions. That made me ill equipped to become a creature virtually ruled by them.
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Even as they were walking, Ivy's mind was already ticking. Planning for long term, connecting possibilities and discarding methods that would be useless in dealing with this. The good thing was: Rachel had called for her. It had been the smart thing to do. And Ivy could take it from here, plan what they were going to do - they, of course, because Ivy didn't intent to leave Rachel alone with this.
Sinking down gracefully to sit next to Rachel on the log, Ivy bent her head in thought. Plan B it was.
"I'm not going to lie to you," she said bluntly, turning to face Rachel, her knee knocking lightly against the other womans. "The hunger that you feel isn't going to go away. It will ebb and wane, but it will always be there." That was something Ivy knew all too well, having lived with it her entire life. It would come and go, starting from a simple want to an overwhelming, mind-shattering hunger that would destroy a persons sanity. "You need to decide how you want to go about this. You can abstain, and live with the hunger." Ivy hesitated, glancing away briefly. "Or I can let you drink my blood, and the hunger will fade for a period. It'll be easier, but... you'll have to keep doing it until you're a Witch again."
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Without another word, I'd turned and was heading away. Oh, let's be honest. I was running. Because that's how I handled things I was afraid of. I ran.
I needed Peter and he was gone. So once I reached the tent village I realized that I had no place to go. Great.
Leaning against a tree, I folded my arms across my chest and closed my eyes, trying to think. I couldn't leave because God knew what I'd do if left on my own. I couldn't stay because I knew what I'd do. Options were slim and I didn't like any of them. I wasn't strong enough to abstain. I knew that. I had no delusions about my self-control. But I also knew that I could not ask Ivy to do what she'd offered. It wouldn't be fair. It would be cruel, in point of fact, and I loved her too much to let her go through that for me.
I didn't know what to do.
I hated not knowing.
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This was going to go nowhere, if Rachel kept following her impulses and did whatever she felt like doing. Ivy understood that that was normally how Rachel operated, but right now, it was a lot more detrimental than useful. Minutes later, she finally found Rachel leaning against a tree, obviously thinking. Ivy hated to interrupt, but she wasn't letting this go on any longer without instilling some measure of control in Rachel, one way or another.
"Rachel, get a grip," she announced. "There is no running from this. You ate a chocolate without knowing where it came from even when you should know better - it's not your fault that you're a vampire, but you are. And you have to deal with that. Otherwise you're going to go insane."
The offer to let her drink Ivy's blood had been a big thing, and despite the fact that she knew better, Ivy had to seal up her hurt and store it away. Rachel was confused and disorientated, and sh wasn't used to the idea of blood taking at all - that was it. "You have to be realistic about this. I know you, Rachel, which means we can take any idea of not drinking blood and throw it out the window. You simply don't have the control." Harsh, but true, in Ivy's mind. "Now you're going to have to pick someone. Me, your Peter, whoever. Someone you trust. And unless you want to snap and kill somebody, you are going to have to take their blood."
Ivy hated that she had to say this, hated that she was saying it after so many years of not practicing. But she knew how hard it was, and the cold truth was that practicing was a lot easier.
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