Entre l'Amour et la Mort, Chapter 24, part 1

[sav8801]

Title: Entre l'Amour et la Mort
Author: P-L
Fandom: The Hollows, AKA the Rachel Morgan Series, Rachel/Ivy
Rating: M
Disclaimer: Those characters belong to Kim Harrison. I'm just having a little fun with them.
Summary: A run gone wrong sets events into motion, events that lead to a bittersweet realisation... and the birth of Rachel's worst nightmare

A/N: I'm sorry about that latest delay, guys. This chapter kind of took on a life of its own. It did NOT want to end. I guess I fail yet again... :-(

If it doesn't feel that long, it's because I ended up splitting it in two. The next part is pretty much done. It shouldn't be more than a few days until I can post the next one, and the chapter after that is almost done as well. It's almost back on track now! I hope that translates into more, quicker updates now that I'm back to writing the stuff I originally planned to...

Hope you enjoy!



Chapter 24

Crap on toast, will this day ever end? I thought as I slowly backed away from the clearly homicidal undead slowly closing in on me, my whole body taut with the instinct to flee that would get me killed in an instant if I gave in to it. Seeing her up close, it was even clearer than before Ivy got her height from her dad, but while you might think she was diminutive crossing her on the street, trapped in a corridor with her, her petite size only made me feel her absolute lethality was concentrated further. Her curves were a little more generous than Ivy's athletic built or Erica's lanky teenage body, likely as a result of giving birth twice in life, but she still looked perfectly slick and predatory, the picture of an ice queen from hell. The Tamwoods' distant Chinese roots were markedly more obvious in her than in either of her daughters, evident in her thick, straight inky black hair, more rounded face and slightly more slanted eyes that somehow managed to be a shade or two darker than her hair. Mrs Tamwood was so vamped out right now, I couldn't believe I wasn't bleeding yet

"Mrs Tamwood. Uh, hi." I said, regressing into an awkwardly shy seven year-old girl in the blink of an eye. "You're right, I don't believe we've ever met in uh, person. I think I saw you at Trent- Councilman Kalamack, that is, his wedding."

"Yes, I recall seeing you there as well. I believe you arrested the groom that night. How delightfully droll of you." Mrs Tamwood said, her voice dripping venomous irony.

"Yeah, that was... uh, pretty neat, huh?" Losing your ability to discern sarcasm and general mockery. Let's see, that's sign number eighty-seven you're freaking out, right? Or is it seventy-eight? No, that's right, seventy-eight is needing a change of pants. Not there yet. I hope. What? Hysterics are just about the least chaotic part of my life. I might not alphabetise the cans in the pantry like Ivy did, but I've gotten very good at losing my cool in an orderly fashion over the years.

"It was a riot. Literally, of course." Mrs Tamwood coldly leered at me, and I briefly had a flashback of a time when Ivy used to berate me by using the Richter scale to rate my job performances. "No, it was most certainly not 'neat', Ms Morgan. In fact, it lacked any kind of finesse, or consideration. Sloppy and sensationalistic, which I suppose suits you like a glove, but it does make me wonder just what your instructors at Inderland Security drilled into that airy head of yours. I seem to recall holding our new recruits to higher standards in my time." Yeah, it's just my luck that Ivy's mom used to be director Tamwood, the top dog of the IS a while before my time. She could rail at me all day long about my methods, and I couldn't even tell her off about it because if she hadn't died prematurely, I would've been calling her ma'am if I'd ever, by some miracle, met her in the tower. She probably knew more about the runner trade than I did. "You make it doubly disappointing that my daughter could fall for you so completely as to lay down her life. Truly, if your magical aptitudes evaluations were not so woefully lacking, I would accuse you of enchanting her somehow."

Okay, if she can tell me what colour underwear I have on, she's officially gonna get the 'creepiest undead of the week' award. I mean, meeting your mother-in-law is unnerving enough, but when she's gotten farther along your chosen career path than you could ever hope to, she's an immortal, super deadly, super ruthless, super sexy apex predator AND to top it all off she knows everything about you? Yeah, I'm just going to start running the other way now.

"Hum, well if you want to be really picky about it, I'd say Ivy did most of the... seducing?" I meekly attempted to downplay my so-called guilt (Ivy HAD pursued me more than I'd pursued her, after all; it's not cowardly to set the record straight, right?), but Mrs Tamwood didn't look picky about it. At all. In fact, I suspected merely drawing breath made me more than complicit enough to justify tearing my throat out right where I stood.

"And you should have turned her down, if you knew what is good for you." Mrs Tamwood snarled, taking a threatening step into my personal space. "Ivy and I might have been estranged, but she was a good girl before she met you. She would have come around back to her family. Now she's ruined, and it's your fault." I sharply gasped as she stepped closer to me, her terrible, captivating eyes locked on mine robbing me of all my combative instincts long enough to let her get me in her reach. This was it. That's how I went out, with my neck snapped or my blood drained, and once Ivy learned what happened, Cincinnati would burn to cinders in the inferno her reprisal.

...Or at least it would've probably happened like that if Mr Randall hadn't stepped out of the kitchen right about then.

"Belle." He whispered so quietly the word barely reached my ears. If it wasn't for the breath I'd been holding and Mrs Tamwood suddenly relaxing a fraction leading me to take a glance around looking for the source, I would have likely missed it. "Belle, stop."

"Ian..." Mrs Tamwood just as quietly breathed out her husband's name. Her eyes fluttered close, a look of peace turning her bestial mask into smooth, flawless features, her fingers contorted into claws slackening and her arms falling loose at her sides. Slowly, and so deeply it would have been a bit comical if I hadn't just come off a brush with death, the older woman inhaled, taking in the scent of the inhumanly devoted man who loved her above all others wafting towards us. The air between them hummed with... something I could not identify for the life of me, a kind of soothing, enveloping energy emanating from the tall man and seeping slowly into the undead woman, stealing away her ire and rage. Thankfully, this also had the welcome side-effect of sapping the strength of her hunting aura, fuelled as it was by her bitter resentment of my presence in her daughter's life, as well as my continued existence. Though I didn't dare move a muscle yet, seeing the undead getting talked down allowed me to breathe a sigh of relief... which was unfortunate since it got Mrs Tamwood's attention to focus back on me, her leer not quite so threatening anymore, but still scalding and menacing enough I had to press my back against the wall like I meant to go through it, in an effort to put some space between myself and her wickedly sharp teeth.

"Ian, no. Stop this." The undead ordered her scion, though her voice carried less forcefulness than I would have expected a master to bring to bear against a disobeying underling. A second current of energy began to circulate in the hallway, colder and sharper, jagged but not stronger because of it, this one finding its source in Mrs Tamwood and its target in her husband standing opposite her.

"I don't think so, Love." Mr Randall briefly staggered, but despite his frail appearance the man still had the strength to spare challenging his wife, at least in a contest of will. "I'm not going to sit by and let you make an ass of yourself."

"Don't you talk to me like that!" Mrs Tamwood protested, her head whipping to the side (and away from me, thank goodness) so she could address an arctic glare to Mr Randall. In all likelihood, this was exactly what he must have intended for her to do, because as soon as her eyes fixed on him, she began deflating again, her aura waning in strength until it finally dissipated into nothingness. About time, too; I was getting light-headed, barely breathing like that. As ungracefully as I'd ever seen an undead move, Ivy's mom staggered away from me, looking at once lost, angry and impotent, not a combination I'd seen many vampires display. Without hesitation, Mr Randall took the initiative and walked towards her with a calm, understated confidence, all the way into her personal space, his hands settling in a firm, steadying grip on her slender shoulders. The woman seemed to welcome him, reluctantly, but with a joy that was undeniable as well.

"What are you feeling right now?" Mr Randall asked, his voice patience and compassion given sound. "Can you tell me that, Belle?"

"What do you think I'm feeling? I'm angry, and with good reasons!" Mrs Tamwood nearly snapped at her husband. "I'm so angry..." She repeated, more quietly, more subdued somehow, as if her mere proximity to Mr Randall was enough to make these feelings too insubstantial, too vaporous for her to hold on to them.

"Why?" Mr Randall asked his wife. "Why, Belle? Why are you angry?"

"Because that witch... that witch corrupted our daughter."

"She did?" Mr Randall sounded almost sardonic. "How so? How do you figure Rachel corrupted Ivy?"

"You know how!" Mrs Tamwood snarled, her long teeth flashing between her carmine lips. "Stop infantilising me, Ian, you know very well what I mean. What she's done."

"All that she's done, we've done as well, Belle." Mr Randall gently argued with her, his hand steadily cupping her cheek even though his wife looked like she might start foaming at the mouth. "All she's done is be herself around Ivy, just like you were with me. The two of them just clicked. We never planned to fall in love either. Do you remember that?"

"I... I... That's no reason... Just because we..." She blinked, and of all things sputtered. Funny. I'd never seen a vampire sputter before. Or blink when they were vamping out either. Then again, all I'd ever seen from a master-scion relationship was mental violation, heartbreak and assorted abuse. This wasn't a side I'd really considered could be present before today.

"... Made a mistake?" Mr Randall finished the thought for her, sadness darkening his eyes. "Is that what we are to you, the girls and I? Mistakes?"

"No!" Mrs Tamwood exclaimed in the first display of passion I'd seen from her that wasn't murderous. "No, of course you're not."

"Then can you blame Ivy for being with the one she loves, when we did the same and, according to the words just out of your mouth, we didn't make a mistake?" Mrs Tamwood seemed to slump forward into her husband's welcoming, awaiting arms.

"What are you saying?" Mrs Tamwood murmured against his chest, her face burying in his shirt, like she was seeking comfort in his warmth and his scent, just like Ivy did with me. "I'm being silly? I'm 'making an ass of myself'?"

"You're lashing out, Belle. You're angry, and you're right, you've got good reasons to be, but Rachel isn't the cause."

"Ivy..."

"... was murdered. And she was not responsible, no matter how much you disapprove of her."

"I hate it when you do that..." Mrs Tamwood quietly complained, although whatever vamp or scion or just plain husbandry trick 'that' was made the undead shiver and snuggle even closer to him. The sight of them was unreal, considering I was convinced I would die a gory death at the hands and fangs of that very woman mere seconds ago, and I still barely dared to breathe, much less move.

"No you don't." Mr Randall smiled down at her, his arms wrapping her up protectively, like she suddenly was the petite and delicate woman she would be if not for five millennia of evolution moulding her into a perfect predator. Slowly, with a tenderness so absolute I nearly had to bite back tears, he began to rock her back and forth, holding on to her until the last of her anger dissipated into nothingness. "It's okay. I know it's hard for you to make sense of your feelings."

"You make it sound like I'm insane..." She looked up at Mr Randall, and asked with a vulnerability that shouldn't have surprised me but still managed to. "I'm not, am I?"

"No. No." Mr Randall immediately reassured her. "No, of course you're not. You're just... prone to silliness sometimes. When you're agitated. Don't think like that, Love."

"I don't want to be insane." Mrs Tamwood said, almost childishly. "I don't want Ivy to be right when she calls me an insane old bat."

"I'm pretty sure she doesn't call you that." Mr Randall chuckled. I knew Ivy didn't call her mom that... often. Not unless the fight had been really nasty and she needed to vent.

"Liar. You know she does." Mrs Tamwood told him knowingly, a smile, small but real and honest, slightly quirking the side of her mouth as she looked up to meet his gaze. She held his eyes for several seconds before that look of amusement turned into a frown.

"I... I did this, didn't I?" She asked as she ran a careful hand along the fatigue lines criss-crossing on her husband's gaunt face, realising seemingly for the first time the effects their exclusive feedings were having on him. She looked appalled.

"Belle, you didn't do anything I didn't want you to." Mr Randall took her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm, but unlike his previous displays of affection, his undead wife didn't go along with this one. With an angry hiss, she shoved him into the nearest wall, making him grunt and me yelp with the speed and sheer suddenness of her movement. With one hand on his chest, covering his heart, she held the much taller man there, looking him defiantly in the eyes.

"Kiss me." She demanded unflinchingly, both her eyes and his black as sin. For a second I thought Mr Randall was ignoring her order, but then I noticed the way his wife's fingers were digging into his chest, rumpling the impeccable dress shirt he wore, despite the fact she wasn't applying any force onto him at all. He was the one pressing against her, and he was quite unable to make her budge, despite opposing his whole body to the strength of her sole slender arm. Eventually he lowered his head in defeat, and Mrs Tamwood relented, reaching up to cup his face in her delicate hands.

"You're so weak, Ian." She said without a hint of condemnation or accusation. "I've left you so weak. I can't fathom how I could miss it. Your heart is struggling with every beat." Like she had with her husband, she covered her own heart with her hand and closed her eyes. "How could I not feel it when it beats next to mine? What kind of wife have I been to you these past few years?"

"Belle, let me explain..." Mr Randall attempted to get a word in, but in a move rather reminiscent of Ivy, she silenced him with a darting finger to his lips.

"No." She told him categorically. "I know. I understand what you've done, and I am so very grateful you brought me back from the abyss. It is not a debt I can ever repay."

"You don't owe me-" He blurted out, emotion strangling his voice. "You never owed me anything. You know that."

"Silence." She cut him off with a growl that was somehow half endeared, half threatening. Only a vamp could come up with that. "It's over, Ian. This folly of yours is over. You've carried me as far as you could. I need to start walking on my own now."

"What do you mean?" Mr Randall asked, defeated.

"I mean that it's time I hunted again, Love." She answered with an eager, carnivorous smile. "I've relied on you for sustenance for too long. It needs to stop, at least until you can build your strength back up. I'm not going to lose you as well."

"I don't want to share you." It was Mr Randall's turn to growl, but whatever his possessive tone, it prompted Mrs Tamwood to grab him into a ferocious embrace and kiss him with breath-stealing passion.

"And I love you for it. Things will not change between us because I'll feed from others, Ian. It will only be blood, I promise. I'm not making this an open marriage... so don't get any ideas, either." She teasingly warned her husband once she was done eating his face. "I still fully expect you by my side every morning..."

She said more to him, but at this point, it was clear I'd completely slipped the couple's mind. I blocked it out before I ended up adding to my gallery of psychological scars, and while they were otherwise engaged discreetly slipped back into the kitchen to catch up on my breathing and nurse my battered pride. Yeah, some runner I was, to be terrified of my mother in law to the point I lost it worst than I did in front of armed gunmen. I didn't even know what it was about her that scared me so, but it was undeniably there, whatever the reason. Perhaps it was simply a matter of not hating her the way I did most other undead that could make my blood turn to ice; I do have a tendency to let anger override fear and sense, after all, but as coldly as she treated me, I knew I would have a hard time working up more than a half-hearted resentment towards my mother in law. Not after I heard her story. She'd sacrificed her life for the woman I loved, we loved, and I just pitied her too much.

The sound of heels clacking smartly across the hardwood floor of the kitchen made me look up from the counter I'd hunched myself over to catch my breath, just in time to see Mrs Tamwood stroll casually across me into the secret door that led to her underground lair. I quietly swallowed, my heart rate spiking even though a vampire you can hear coming is about as harmless as they come. She looked calm and relaxed, which was comforting even if she was ignoring me, something that likely had to do with the rapidly fading bright red bite mark on her long, slender neck. She'd obviously given a little sugar to help break in the news she was going to start hunting for herself to him, which would also account for the slightly dazed look and dilated pupils of her husband when he followed her in.

"Come meet me downstairs when you're done with our guests. I still need to talk to you, in private." She said as she worked the keypad giving her access to the basement apartments, her tone warm but more business-like than it had been a minute prior. She smiled to him over her shoulder, incidentally getting me back into her field of vision, and turned a bit more towards me. "Ms Mor... Rachel." She tipped her head to me, before heading down the flight of stairs. I relaxed as she began disappearing from view, but just as I thought I was out of the wood, her voice echoed up from the hidden stairwell.

"If you hurt my family in any way, girl, I promise I will hurt you more than you ever thought possible." She told me in a voice cold enough to make my skin crawl, my eyes foolishly meeting her terrifying cinnamon glare. She wasn't even using a hint of vampire tricks; her sheer presence was enough to make me break out in cold sweat from fifteen paces away. This was pure, maternal fury, something that I never thought could be just as scary as any vampiric hunting power. Through no effort of my own, my chin dipped forward twice in an automatic, irresistible nod of acknowledgment. "Good. I'm glad we understand each other. Have a good night." She regally dismissed me and walked down one more step before stopping one last time to give herself a quick shake, like she didn't quite understand what had just happened, shrugged once, and finally vanished, leaving me almost boneless in relief.

"Wow..." I breathed out. "Most formidable woman you've ever met, huh?" I addressed Mr Randall, who was still staring at the spot where his wife had vanished. He looked better, if pretty much dumbstruck. A lot better, actually, like the little pick-me-up his wife had given him had done a world of good. "That's actually almost reassuring. I don't want to see what a woman more formidable than her looks like."

"Huh?" Mr Randall responded absently, and I noticed, his black eyes beginning to tear up.

"You okay?" I smiled nervously at him.

"For the first time in thirteen years, I've seen my wife again." Mr Randall murmured, emotions making his voice raw and strangled. "Is it wrong that in this moment, in the middle of all this pain and chaos... I'm happy somehow?"

"I take it she's not like this most of the time?" I asked. He shook his head and drew in a deep, shuddering breath.

"No. I've never seen her this... alive. Not since she awakened. It's working... It's really working. I've doubted so often this day would ever come, but... She's coming back to us."

"She shook off her stupor? Really? So quickly?" I knew the brain damage undead suffered during their transition usually meant they remained nearly catatonic for about thirty years. If Mrs Tamwood was really back, then Mr Randall was definitely on to something with his enforced exclusive feedings.

"I don't know. I think she's starting to, but it's still unstable. Maybe emotional spikes help her break free, at least momentarily, but..." He sighed and ran a hand through his messy hair. Looking disheveled, one of the lesser side-effects of making out with an undead. Mrs Tamwood had gone to town on him, and it showed. "It looks like anger works best, if that scene she caused at the cemetery is any indication. Damn, I'm not looking forward to picking a fight with her just to see again, if that's the case." He chuckled mirthlessly. Having been on the wrong side of her ire, I could relate with the desire to keep Momzilla appeased and happy.

"Just invite me and Ivy to diner instead. It ought to work." I joked. "I'm happy for you." I said, and it was heartfelt. Everyone could use some good news these days, and Mrs Tamwood pulling through this hard, dangerous period of her life was definitely good news for Erica and her dad. Ivy might argue, but I'd be sure to knock some sense into her if she decided to be a bitch about it. "It can't have been easy to see her inert like that for so long. I hope she comes back to you and Erica."

"Thank you." He said distractedly, still staring.

"You should probably do as she says." I nudged him when it became clear the older man was still too dumbfounded to do anything but stand there. "Mustn't keep a lady waiting." She might start teasing you on the phone too, if you do...

"R-right." He rocked into motion, turning his attention back to the abandoned tray of drinks he'd left behind to come save my witchy butt from getting snacked on by his not-so-tender half.

"And you might want to straighten everything out before you head out, too." I quipped, motioning to my own attire to indicate I what I meant. Let's just say his hair wasn't the only thing not quite in perfect order. He looked, well, like the aftermath of a vampiric quickie in the hallway. Funny that.

I left him to his drinks and thoughts of his wife and walked back out, glad to see I wasn't shaking anymore. I still got the recovery time down, I sarcastically pated myself on the back that I could come within a hair's breadth of getting eaten and still casually walk out of the encounter without quaking in my boots. I'd had too much practice for my own good. Still, being able to walk and think straight after a close call with my undead mother-in-law had its uses, like leaving me with enough clarity of mind to notice there was a woman casually leaning against the wall on the way out, one that somehow didn't look out of place at all, despite having no business in this part of the estate, separated from the other guests. Frowning, I opened my mouth to address her, having my suspicions the black-haired and green-eyed woman was no other than Angel, but before the confrontation on the tip of my tongue made it out of my mouth, Reed and Heidi walked in from the opposite way, and taking my eyes off her for one second was enough for the woman to vanish. Further evidence she was not as inconspicuous as she looked, and probably an Elven ninja scion under the cover of an obscuration charm.

Both vamps looked sharp as ever, but it was clear neither of them had shaken off the doubt my reluctance to pledge myself to Ivy was plaguing them with. They looked grim and worried under their professional airs and dark suits. I definitely understood what they hoped I could do better now that I'd seen Ivy's parents interacting, seen how tightly scions and young undeads were bound, but sadly, I was more convinced than ever I could never do what they expected of me. That was just too much responsibility, even if Ivy herself had assured me she didn't need me to provide for her to the extent her father did for her mom.

"How much of that did the two of you see?" I asked them, a bit surprised looking back that they hadn't intervened to get Mrs Tamwood away from me.

"Enough not to be worried." Reed answered dismissively, his whole body language harshly contrasting with his usual easy-going demeanour.

"Now that's good to hear." I sarcastically snapped back. "I suppose you want to tell me she just planned on hugging me with her teeth, too?"

"Oh, that's rich. First you make it very clear you're not interested in helping us, then you get pissy because we didn't swoop in to save your-"

"No, he doesn't." Heidi diplomatically stepped in. "He means that until she put a hand on you, we had to assume Mrs Tamwood was only trying to scare you. We couldn't start a scuffle over anything less, not without causing an incident."

"Which she'd know if she actually gave two shits about what's going on out there." Reed muttered, earning himself a glare from Heidi.

"Reed, not here. Not now." She whispered to him, gripping his arm in warning. "She did help us, remember? Just a week ago." That's right, I helped you save Erica. Shove that down your pipe and smoke it, why don't you?

"Yeah, and thanks to that, her hide is safe, no matter who wins or lose. Big personal cost she paid there."

"Reed!" Heidi hissed before I had a chance to give him a piece of my mind about that last statement. "Not. Here."

"All she has to do is bleed a little for Ivy. And not even the way we do. How hard would that be?" The big man argued, pointing an accusing finger at me. "Not that hard, considering she's already boning her!"

"You know there's more to being a scion than that. It's a big commitment." Heidi countered, and Reed's jaw dropped, while I went red with embarrassment and anger at his last comment. Dickhead. "Don't look at me like that. I'd feel better knowing she's committed to our side too. A lot better." She added with a vulnerability that shocked me. It was understandable she'd be worried, though. While Reed was a valuable resource as an experienced team leader in SIU, Heidi was essentially a grunt, and a first gen one at that. She wasn't anyone's pet project, and she'd have even less shelter from the coming storm if Ivy's bid for mastery over Cinci failed, or if her grip on her tattered humanity ever slipped, which is where a better witch than I would come in. "It's her call. We don't have a say in the matter."

"We never do." Reed growled, helplessness making his fists clench at his sides. "Shit."

"I know."

"You're entirely too sweet for your own good, Ms Andrews." Reed wryly declared. "Did you know that?"

"I'll have you know, Mr Connor, that I'm not sweet. I'm just cooler headed than you."

"I don't want... I think about anything happening to you, and it makes me want to punch a wall." The tall man before her shuddered, and the brunette vamp moved a little closer, wrapping both his arms in a firm, steadying grip.

"And I can't tell you how grateful I am for that." Heidi soothingly assured him. "Come on. Take a breath before you pop a vein. I'm going to be fine. We all will. Right now, we've got a job to do. We can talk about this once we're off the clock."

"Yeah..." Reed finally dropped half-heartedly. If he really believed her, it didn't show all that much on his face, but at least he wasn't spouting insults and snide insinuations at me. I doubted I'd like what I'd hear if I could read his mind, but at least he was civil enough to flip the switch back into professional mode and stop chewing me out.

The evening proceeded smoothly from there. I wasn't sure what to expect from the other guests when I walked into the parlor where they'd assembled on the mansion's third floor, but fortunately, I didn't have to introduce myself to anyone; as soon as I walked in I was accosted by the only other non-vamp in the room, Carson, boyfriend and fiancé to Seth's big sister, Melissa.

"Rachel Morgan?" Carson called me out with a worried glance at the vamp bodyguard and the douche I had in tow.

"Present. You must be Carson, right? I think we're the only two here without a dental plan that comes with sharpening."

"Yup." The male witch smiled and shook my hand, giving me a little jolt of equalizing ley line energy that tripped a few long dormant instincts in me, and made me size him up with what I admit was more than a little appreciation. What? I was sleeping with Ivy, sure, but I didn't suddenly lose my appreciation for my own kind, especially fine specimens like this one. No harm done in looking. He was a big man up close, not quite rivaling Reed in sheer size, but unlike the male vampire, he carried himself a bit awkwardly, like he wasn't all that familiar with his bulk, most likely because he'd only fairly recently put it on. Not a lot of guys who dated lady vamps appreciated the fact their girlfriend could effortlessly pin them to the floor the second the whim took them, and it tended to lead to some kind of compensation, like pumping a lot of iron and maybe in his case gulping down a homebrewed muscle toning potion or three. He had the strong redwood scent of an earth practitioner. I didn't really approve if that was really the case, but still, the witch was sharply dressed and a pleasure to look at; once upon a time, I would have considered making a pass at him, but longing thoughts of my own vampire lover doused that little surge of hormones right quick. Besides, poaching on a vamp's territory is a bad idea, no matter what species you are.

"It's nice to see another witch here." Carson amicably told me. "Back in Washington I've been spending so much time amongst vampires, don't even remember the last time I spoke to another one of us in person."

"I heard about that. You and Melissa are out there fighting the good fight, huh?" I said, slightly pivoting my head to the side, where I knew Reed stood, as if to dare him to scoff. To my satisfaction, not a peep came from him.

"You could say that. Or you could say we're banging our heads against a wall. It would be an equally apt description of where we're at now." Carson dryly replied.

"Trouble?" I asked.

"Just a few assholes with hard-ons for the status quo, bogging down Melissa's projects, but she can tell you all about that herself. I'm sure she'd really like to meet you, unless you're meeting someone?" He asked with a glance to our surroundings, to see if he was keeping me. A quick look around the room told me the only other acquaintance I had, namely Erica, was not present at the moment, and so I shook my head.

"Frankly, I'm a little surprised you're walking up to me. Most witches and warlocks avoid me like the plague these days. I'm not sure you're doing your reputation any favour." I said, falling into step with the hunky witch, off whose butt I had a little trouble keeping my eyes, so he could lead me to his belle.

"Right." Carson scoffed dismissively. "Some of the biggest a-holes I mentioned? They happen to be members of the Coven of Morals and Ethical Standards, which despite what its name implies is pretty much rotten to the core. I liaise with those bastards all the time. Oh, and don't even get me started on vampire politicians of the 'not quite alive' variety. Pillars of freaking society, I tell you." He snickered darkly. "Trust me, I'll make my own opinion of you, and so will Melissa. She'll love you."

"Not a fan of the Covens, huh?" I asked him. Miraculously, I'd never had a run-in with this very notorious ruling body of the witches' and warlock's government, something I thanked whatever star I was born under for every morning before going to bed. These guys were bad news, and they could make my life even more difficult than it already was. Being almost shunned is still a lot better than actually being shunned, and if the latter ever happened, they were the ones I would have to thank for it.

"Nope." Carson gave me a lopsided grin. "Their abolishment is the next step in our mad quest for world domina- I mean, our noble efforts for a better, freer Inderland."

"That's... maybe a little extreme." I pointed out. "Not to mention anarchistic."

"Oh, I know we need regulations, but not the way these people operate. Our laws shouldn't be dictated by a power-pandering cartel of rotten old men and dried-up hags who haven't gotten the memo the Turn's been over for forty years. We need a new set of administrations, and kick the old one out to the curb with their sanctioned black magic kill orders and their goddamn code of silence."

I like your style, at the very least... I thought with a slightly frisky smile. Yup, if we were both single, odds are I'd be flirting with him, but cheating on my significant other has never been my style... unless I'm trapped in an elevator with a gorgeous vampire, on my way to (near) certain death at the hand of a master bloodsucker; I might steal a kiss under those completely excusable circumstances. Oh, and I guess I might share blood in a van when I'm desperate for closeness and comfort after getting betrayed by an ex with a funny notion of secrets and harmlessness. That totally doesn't count. Maybe, a big maybe, I might push my best friend's buttons until she pretends she's about to bite me, but ends up turning the table on me and kisses me instead, and enjoy the outcome, but that's...

Okay, maybe faithfulness is not my strongest suit after all. But I was just looking! And appreciating! And not even drooling! And honestly, with the way Carson looked at Melissa as we approached, my libido and I would have been dead in the water anyway. He might enjoy the company of someone who didn't consider hemoglobin a food group, but it was immediately clear who his heart belonged to when we got closer to his grieving girlfriend. Melissa had claimed an isolated spot to be alone with her thoughts, where a cozy couch had been settled near one of the great bay windows lining the walls, offering a great view of the neighborhood and the river beyond them. The vamp's pansy eyes were fixed on a point beyond the horizon, giving no sign she was aware of her surroundings, even less of our presence.

"Hey, look who I found, Mel." Carson gently roused the vampire by pressing a kiss to her blond curls, his large hands enveloping her slender shoulders.

"Carson, don't coddle me now..." Melissa pleaded in a tired voice that suggested she was rather in dire need of that coddling. "I've got it together. You know I'll start bawling again if you... Oh, hey. Hi." The blond vamp perked up instantly as she recognised me, life flowing easily back into her eyes and demeanour. "You must be Rachel."

"Was it the witchiness that gave me away?" I smiled at her as she gracefully took to her feet despite having to disentangle herself from Carson's embrace, leaving the witch who'd been leaning against her off balance and nearly tumbling head over heel, and came face to face with me to shake my hand, sparing not a blink to our height difference. There was an aura of confidence about her, one that exceptionally wasn't backed at all by any vamp tricks. She had the looks of a natural-born leader, that much was immediately apparent.

"Well, I do happen to be familiar with it." She smiled back, tipping her head in Carson's direction, and though it didn't reach her eyes, it was clear she'd bottled up the worst of her grief for the moment. Vamps are social creatures, after all. It's harder for them to be miserable in the company of others. No wonder my own reclusive girlfriend gave herself such a hard time way back when. Isolating herself might have coincided with her convictions, but it went against her nature as a vampire, something she'd definitely gotten over, considering how aggressively she was campaigning for Cinci now.

"And you're the famous Melissa." I took her offered hand and shook it, her small, delicate-looking hand gripping mine with just enough strength to hint at her power without flaunting it. Very confident of her. "Nice to meet you. I've heard good things."

"Probably not from anyone who knows me, then." Melissa gave a dry little laugh. "You would be calling me infamous otherwise."

I laughed quietly at that, already deciding I liked her, an impression that was only reinforced as the night progressed in their company, Erica's mysterious absence slipping from my mind with the flow of conversation and companionship. Indeed, none of the actual occupants of the Tamwood-Randall estate were doing much to grace their guests with their presence, Mrs Tamwood never having emerged from her lair and Mr Randall vanishing after her once he made a brief appearance. I can't say I wasn't a bit out of my depths talking with the two of them, but Melissa was patient in exposing her theories and plans to me.