In the Leyline of Fire (6 of 7?) - part 2
6. (Continued...)
I watched Ivy approach with a long-legged stride that dozens of models would probably kill for. The glimmering of light from a street lamp somewhere and the fading night sky was enough for me to see her by.
Her robe furled around her, a silken blue so dark as to be almost black, the color of deep oceans. I’d always put the kind of poetic feeling I had around her down to admiration. Riiight.
I shut my eyes as she came closer and the rich incense of Ivy’s scent surrounded me. My heart beat heavily as I breathed deep. She didn’t mean it. You can’t spend years loving someone and just stop.
No, not Ivy. She’d always been intense, almost frightening in the depth of her feelings. But you could spend a year or two slowly steeling yourself to do it. If you were convinced that it was the right thing to do. If you were a planner.
I sighed. I was in deep shit.
She stopped in front of me, a tall figure beautiful and deadly, the subject of nightmares or dreams, depending on whose side you were on. I didn’t say anything, just continued to sit with my arms wrapped around my knees. It wasn’t the most comfortable position, but it kept me warm.
“Rachel, what’re you doing out here?” Her silky voice made me shiver, but I pretended it was the cold.
“Watching the stars.”
“It’s almost morning.”
“There are still a few.” Before she could say anything else, I went on. “I heard you play. It was beautiful, Ivy.”
“You heard it from all the way out here?” She seemed faintly embarrassed. “Why didn’t you come in?”
“If I’d been there, you would’ve stopped playing.” The words sounded bitter as they slipped out. But dammit, it was true. I’d walked in on Ivy playing once, and that had been it. She never let me watch again.
Something else caught her attention. “You’re wearing my robe,” she said, the pupils in her eyes dilating.
“Oh. Yeah sorry, I ducked into the laundry and snatched the first warm things I could get my hands on. It just happened to be your robe and this blanket,” I explained apologetically, meaning no, this isn’t another ploy to trip your senses. Besides, I’d already tried that route and on all counts my attempt had been an epic fail.
“It is cold.” Ivy tried to blink back the blackness in her eyes. “Why don’t you come inside? I’ll make you some coffee, or hot chocolate if you’re going back to sleep,” she said persuasively.
I stared at her. She couldn’t be serious. She couldn’t play best friend and comfort me when she was the one breaking my heart. I opened my mouth to say something sensible, like I’ll be okay and could she just go and leave me to my fucking misery?
But instead what came out was, “Don’t leave, Ivy.”
Surprise showed on Ivy’s face, a break from her usual emotional sangfroid. “Rachel, I never said -”
My heart was hammering against my ribs. I’d heard her play, and in the first moments I’d heard her longing. But that last piece had practically been a declaration of defiance, and I was scared by what she was going to say next. So I cut her off and started talking first.
“I like it out here. I’ve slept here before, the night Piscary called and you left.” Like a good scion. I hugged my knees tighter. No need to tell her that I’d nearly gone crazy and gone after her, and that Jenks and Keasley had to knock me out with one of my own sleeping potions to make me to see sense.
The quirk on her lips told me that someone else might’ve relayed the story. But her voice was serious when she said, “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Unless Rynn calls,” I said bitterly.
“If there’s something that needs to be done, of course,” she admitted with some annoyance. “But I’d come back. It’s no different from being on a run.”
That did it. Did she think I was an idiot? “Do me a favor, okay, Ivy?” I said hotly as something inside me snapped. “Don’t try to make me feel better. I’m a big girl. I’m not going to fall apart just because you don’t love me anymore. I don’t need any of this comforting bullshit. I don’t need you!”
Her eyes flashed at my show of temper, and suddenly she was angry too. “Why you selfish little -”
“What?!” I couldn’t believe she was picking on me. I was hurting, and she knew it. The least she could do was to let me vent!
“- witch. I’ve loved you for years, and I’ve watched you fall for just about every jerk there is.”
“Why you…”
“Then just because things don’t go your way once -”
“…sanctimonious, anal-retentive vamp!”
“- it’s all my fault? I’m supposed to feel guilty because I didn’t have sex with you when you finally felt like it?”
“I felt it in your aura!” I shouted, not caring anymore whether the entire street or all of the Hollows heard us. “Don’t lie to me, Ivy! I can take anything but that.” My voice cracked, wavering between grief and near-hysterics. “Don’t tell me you’re going to be here when you want to leave! Don’t pretend you still care when you -”
“Rachel!” It was the wild way she called my name that stopped me. The placid mask Ivy always wore fell from her in the same moment she sank to her knees in front of me and cupped my face in her gentle hands. Eyes the color of molten honey bored into mine, and I could see every bit of feeling that had stayed hidden there at last. “I care, Rachel. I will never stop.”
That did it. The dam inside me broke, and I sobbed as she kissed my cheeks and tasted my tears. They were for her at last. No, they were for us, a lost us if this last conversation ended like the others. She took me in her arms and rocked me as she had once before, when I thought I’d been bound and Ivy had kept telling me that I wasn’t.
“But you -” It was hard to talk through the tears. “You don’t want to.”
Her arms tightened around me. “Dear heart, it’s better if I don’t.”
“Why?” I was having trouble catching my breath because if she still cared, then there was a chance.
“Because what I’m getting into is dangerous.”
“Then you need help,” I managed to say. “You taught me to ask for help when I needed it. Why won’t you do the same?”
Ivy sighed as she sat back just enough to wipe my tears away. “I told you what it would take, Rachel, and it scares the living daylights out of you.”
Oh yeah, that. But who in her right mind wouldn’t be scared by this scion business? It had nearly torn Ivy apart once. I didn’t understand why she’d even consider… I took a deep breath. That was it, wasn’t it? I didn’t understand.
Maybe it was time to try. “Ivy, what’s it like, being a scion? You keep saying that it’s supposed to be an honor. Why?”
She gave me a long, careful glance, the kind Ivy threw my way when she was trying to gauge what I was getting at.
I returned it steadily. I was serious and I wanted her to know it. “Nick said that it wasn’t like being a shadow or a…or a thrall.” I wasn’t even sure what a thrall was.
She frowned, and muttered “crap for brains” under her breath. But as asinine as he was, Nick was a human who’d grown up among Inderlanders. He knew more about vampires than I did.
“They’re both about blood, aren’t they?” I prompted. “Blood and some kind of mental bond you can’t shake.” That’s the part that scared me. The blood, well after sharing mine with Ivy I’d pretty much come around that, but the possibility that someone could take over my will terrified me.
Ivy knew my misgivings so well, she didn’t need to guess where my thoughts were headed. “You can’t seriously think that they’re the same thing.” She made a sound of impatience at my uncertain expression. “Yes, they both involve blood and mental bonds but, Rachel, comparing a scion to a shadow is like saying that marriage and girls going wild over a boy band are the same. A vampire can have any number of shadows at his beck and call, if he wants. Shadows and thralls are about the blood ecstasy. You’ve seen them at Piscary’s.”
I nodded, trying not to shudder at the memory of those pale, blank faces.
“But a scion…” Ivy’s voice turned low, respectful, “even the most powerful vampire can only have one. For all the influence that a vampire has over a scion, that vampire must share with him or her something more. A scion will possess some of your strength and abilities; she’ll know your mind as you know hers.”
“As for forcing a scion, I won’t lie, it’s possible. But Piscary would've simply made me kill you if it was that easy,” she said bluntly. “It's not mind control, because a scion without her own will, whose every action must be directed, is useless. It’s more of a voice in your head, a teasing, compelling influence, and the more powerful the vamp the harder it is to resist, but one can resist. A scion isn't a shadow, or just another source of blood. She becomes a part of you. You must be able to trust her because no one will be closer to you, or have the most opportunity to kill you. That’s why choosing the wrong one can get you killed. Which is why it surprises everyone that Rynn is asking me," she ended.
I remembered something. “But Rynn already has a scion.”
Ivy nodded. “He does, but she wants to…move on. Only someone living can be a scion.”
So Rynn’s scion wanted to cross over and be an undead. “I don’t know about this, Ivy. I don’t trust him. Cormel,” I clarified. “It’s got to be a ruse. Cormel’s an undead master, why would he give that kind of power away? And the other master vampires, do you think they’d just willingly -”
Ivy smiled. “I know,” she said calmly. “And if we simply asked for power, the undead would never give it. That’s not the way it works for us. But if living vampires increased in strength and influence, if they formed allegiances among themselves and not just with their masters, and if it happened gradually, over the years…”
My jaw fell. Ivy was talking about, not exactly overthrowing the camarillas, but forming another system alongside it. No, within it. “You’re…planning to use Rynn? You’ll agree to be his scion but you have your own agenda?”
She nodded, and I realized by her tranquil coolness that she'd done this kind of thing before.
“I told you the truth, Rachel. I don’t want another 15 year old girl to go through what I did. I don’t want another boy to die like…Kisten. Piscary treated us like playthings.” Her tone was both angry and sad. “He got away with it because no one within the camarilla was strong enough to stop him, and outside Cincy no one cared. Undead vampires only fear the masters, but we who live, we feel, form bonds and friendships, and trade favors. A living vampire can’t stand up to an undead, much less to a master. But if he can call on five other living vampires for help, would a master find it so easy to give away his life’s blood then, or for an undead to take advantage?” she reasoned.
Ivy’s expression turned reflective. “The Weres will grow in number, and there are already too few of us to waste. Rynn is astute enough to see that. There’s a small window in which things can be done, things that by some weird, satirical black-humor twist of Fate I might be able to pull off. It’s possible that Rynn isn’t sincere, but that doesn’t matter in the long run if I can put things into motion. Once I do though, if the other masters realize what the real plan is…”
They’ll kill her. Tamwood or not, Ivy’s life wouldn’t be worth two cents if they found out. My mind was whirling. What had Piscary said? That Ivy had argued when he’d told her to leave the I.S. so she could keep an eye on me, only to discover that she’d planned it that way all along?
I stared at her, seeing my roommate in a new light. This is why Kisten and even Nick were certain that Ivy would rule Cincinnati one day. Not simply because she was a Tamwood, but because she was Ivy, and she’d been wise to the ways of the undead since she was fourteen.
“Why does it have to be you?” I asked.
“Because vampires look only to those who are stronger than they are.” Her eyes glinted, and she didn’t need to say the rest - that few among her kind could match her. Kisten told me that she’d walked in the sun and lived practically as an undead, and she’d survived. For all her love of plans, the bike and the leathers were not an act. Ivy was the best runner the I.S. had ever had, and part of that was because she was a rule-breaker just like me, and she got away with it.
“And you have to be a scion…?”
“Even the strongest of living vampires is no match for the youngest undead, unless she can lean on a master’s strength. Rynn would also place more trust in me.” She grinned, and her perfect teeth gleamed in the moonlight. “Which in turn would allow me to move more freely.”
“Because he’d have a window into your brain, Ivy!” I protested, pointing out the big hole in her plan. “He’d see what you were doing.”
“I have no intention of hiding this from him, not the main plan anyway. He offered, remember?” Ivy explained patiently. “I’m simply taking him up on it. Besides,” her gaze turned distant, considering, “he wants something too. For all his benign posturing, I think Cincinnati isn’t enough for Rynn. He wants more, but to do that he needs someone who can hold Cincy for him, preferably a vampire who’s in no hurry to be an undead and who…belongs.”
“Someone who has the bloodline,” I whispered, the pieces falling into place. Ivy was high-born, from a long line of living vampires. She was held in high regard by her camarilla’s masters, past and present. No mere undead would mess with her, not without a compelling reason. It wasn’t just Cormel’s protection either. Ivy’s mother, a powerful undead in her own right who’d nearly succeeded Piscary, would gladly rip out the heart of any who threatened her only living heir.
Ivy bent her head. With a pang, I recognized the gesture though I hadn’t seen it in ages. If her hair were longer it would fall like a curtain between us, shielding her face from me. “I never wanted any of this.”
There was a tiny quiver in her solemn voice, and it hit me how hard this must be for her. For as long as I’d known her, Ivy had wanted only to be her own person, free from anyone’s manipulation. In Piscary’s absence, and with her own growing control, she was almost there. But Rynn had made his offer and however she felt about it, her reasoning was impeccable. If things were to change, someone had to start. And right now it looked like the person with the best chance was Ivy.
Everything was already within her - the ability, the influence, the blood, and most of all the motivation. Unlike most of her kind, Ivy understood what she was fighting for, because she’d lived through it.
My fingers curled against her cheek. In surprise, she looked at me. “I’m sorry,” I said simply. I’d leapt to conclusions because Ivy’s revelation had made me panic. No wonder she’d gotten angry; I’d said no when this was something that ultimately concerned Ivy, and not me. This wasn’t my decision to make.
“What you’re planning scares me,” I admitted, “but this is your world we’re talking about, and if this is what you think needs to be done then I’m with you.”
I thought she’d be pleased at my apology. Instead Ivy looked horrified. “Rachel, I don’t want you involved!”
“Yeah? Well tough.” I stuck my chin out. “I’m not going anywhere either, you hear me, Ivy? Make your plans, play your game. But you’re right, this is dangerous. You need backup for this, and I’m it.”
“But there’s nothing you can do,” she protested, falling back on reason. As if that ever worked on me. “You said it yourself, this is about vampires.”
“We’ll see. I’m still not going,” I repeated. Then, more softly, “You can kick me out of your bed, out of your room,” I managed to say past the lump in my throat. “That’s your right. But whatever you decide, I’m staying to watch your back. I’m your friend, I…” I’d like to be more.
“But you hate vampire society,” she argued plaintively, sounding almost like a child.
“Yeah but…” I hesitated. “I’m not doing this for the greater good of vampires. I’m doing it for you.”
Ivy went still, and there was something about the expectant way she gazed at me that gave me hope. “Why?”
“Because I want…” I swallowed. This was it. I wasn’t very good at words, but if I didn’t pick the right ones tonight I might never get the chance again. “I want a life with you, Ivy, and I want it to be a long one. I’m going to do everything I can to make sure of that, including finding a way for you to keep your soul. And if we - if I fail in that…” I braced myself. I knew what Ivy wanted. Piscary had told her to keep me under control, but the offer to make me her scion had come from Ivy.
But the words wouldn’t come out. I couldn’t, not when there was still so much about this I didn’t understand. Even if it would surely fix things between us, I couldn’t make promises to Ivy that I wouldn’t live by. What had Nick said? ‘You’ll be second, but you’ll be second to a vampire slated to rule Cincinnati.’ Something like that. But that was exactly it. Neither Ivy nor I were good at being second, and I didn’t know what it would do to us if one of us had to be. I’d seen how the undead treated their scions.
Soft hands brushed against my face. “Don’t,” Ivy whispered.
My heart sank. I’d lost my chance. I scrabbled for words, wanting desperately to get it back. I hadn’t said no, dammit, I just needed time to process this! “But Ivy -”
The tips of her fingers rested against my lips, quieting me as she shook her head. “If we fail, I’ll be undead.” Her face was full of disquiet, of…fear. I realized that in the same way I had dropped my guard around Ivy earlier and shown her how weak I’d felt, she was doing the same now. “I didn’t tell you, but I bumped into Peter last month.”
My eyes widened. Peter, the first vampire whose death I had witnessed…and mourned. I had stayed with him till the end, and in those few moments we’d shared, we had talked like old friends. “You saw him? Why didn’t you mention it? Is he still with -” and suddenly I remembered. Peter, and the woman he loved. God, what was her name? The woman who, knowing what would happen to him, had volunteered to be his scion after his first death. I looked at Ivy.
She met my gaze, and her own was full of grief. As close as I had gotten to Peter, Ivy had known him longer. “If that happens,” she continued as if she hadn’t mentioned him, “I will be kind and I will love you, but I won’t be the same. I won’t remember why. In the beginning I may not even remember how. And it will cause you pain. I - I never realized how much my father loved my mother until…” In the dim light her eyes were shining with tears. “So…don’t.”
Dying scared her. It always had. I remembered how in her delirium Ivy had once begged me to watch over her, when she thought Piscary might’ve killed her. Now she was letting me see her fear again, and telling me at the same time that she wouldn’t ask this of me, because it would hurt me.
My brave, beautiful Ivy. I clasped her hands and my heart almost broke because they were trembling. “I won’t let the sun touch you,” I swore, fierce with the need to protect her. “If we fail - and we won’t - I’ll be by your side, whether I’m your scion or not.”
As I said the words, I knew it would break me. If Ivy died, and became a shell of the woman I knew and loved, it would hollow me out. But I’d bear it. If that’s what it took to spend a life with Ivy, I’d do it. “I’m sorry I can’t promise you forever,” I murmured apologetically, conscious for the first time of how little I could offer her. “You’ll be immortal. But I can promise that I’ll watch over you for the rest of my life. I’ll keep you safe, Ivy. You’ll be able to sleep in peace.”
She laughed, one of those Rachel’s-being-ridiculous laughs that made me frown in confusion. The tears she’d carefully held back were falling. “Oh Rachel,” she breathed, touching my hair, “don’t you know that’s the worst thing you can say? Don’t make me think of a life without you.” Her hands were on my face again, framing me. “Dear heart, I only want forever if it’s with you.”
Then she kissed me, sweetly, like she had two nights ago, and this time I was the one tasting the salt of her tears on my lips.
Vampire incense enveloped me, and my arms rose to draw her close. Surrounded by Ivy, her warmth, her love, I felt at peace, whole, like I’d been searching and wandering all my life and finally I’d found home.
God help me, I think she was finally mine. And I had no plans of ever letting her go. I murmured her name almost reverently as I tipped my face up to hers, and shivered as her kisses burned deeper, wanting more. My Ivy.
Suddenly a hundred thirty-plus years didn’t seem anywhere near long enough.
I watched Ivy approach with a long-legged stride that dozens of models would probably kill for. The glimmering of light from a street lamp somewhere and the fading night sky was enough for me to see her by.
Her robe furled around her, a silken blue so dark as to be almost black, the color of deep oceans. I’d always put the kind of poetic feeling I had around her down to admiration. Riiight.
I shut my eyes as she came closer and the rich incense of Ivy’s scent surrounded me. My heart beat heavily as I breathed deep. She didn’t mean it. You can’t spend years loving someone and just stop.
No, not Ivy. She’d always been intense, almost frightening in the depth of her feelings. But you could spend a year or two slowly steeling yourself to do it. If you were convinced that it was the right thing to do. If you were a planner.
I sighed. I was in deep shit.
She stopped in front of me, a tall figure beautiful and deadly, the subject of nightmares or dreams, depending on whose side you were on. I didn’t say anything, just continued to sit with my arms wrapped around my knees. It wasn’t the most comfortable position, but it kept me warm.
“Rachel, what’re you doing out here?” Her silky voice made me shiver, but I pretended it was the cold.
“Watching the stars.”
“It’s almost morning.”
“There are still a few.” Before she could say anything else, I went on. “I heard you play. It was beautiful, Ivy.”
“You heard it from all the way out here?” She seemed faintly embarrassed. “Why didn’t you come in?”
“If I’d been there, you would’ve stopped playing.” The words sounded bitter as they slipped out. But dammit, it was true. I’d walked in on Ivy playing once, and that had been it. She never let me watch again.
Something else caught her attention. “You’re wearing my robe,” she said, the pupils in her eyes dilating.
“Oh. Yeah sorry, I ducked into the laundry and snatched the first warm things I could get my hands on. It just happened to be your robe and this blanket,” I explained apologetically, meaning no, this isn’t another ploy to trip your senses. Besides, I’d already tried that route and on all counts my attempt had been an epic fail.
“It is cold.” Ivy tried to blink back the blackness in her eyes. “Why don’t you come inside? I’ll make you some coffee, or hot chocolate if you’re going back to sleep,” she said persuasively.
I stared at her. She couldn’t be serious. She couldn’t play best friend and comfort me when she was the one breaking my heart. I opened my mouth to say something sensible, like I’ll be okay and could she just go and leave me to my fucking misery?
But instead what came out was, “Don’t leave, Ivy.”
Surprise showed on Ivy’s face, a break from her usual emotional sangfroid. “Rachel, I never said -”
My heart was hammering against my ribs. I’d heard her play, and in the first moments I’d heard her longing. But that last piece had practically been a declaration of defiance, and I was scared by what she was going to say next. So I cut her off and started talking first.
“I like it out here. I’ve slept here before, the night Piscary called and you left.” Like a good scion. I hugged my knees tighter. No need to tell her that I’d nearly gone crazy and gone after her, and that Jenks and Keasley had to knock me out with one of my own sleeping potions to make me to see sense.
The quirk on her lips told me that someone else might’ve relayed the story. But her voice was serious when she said, “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Unless Rynn calls,” I said bitterly.
“If there’s something that needs to be done, of course,” she admitted with some annoyance. “But I’d come back. It’s no different from being on a run.”
That did it. Did she think I was an idiot? “Do me a favor, okay, Ivy?” I said hotly as something inside me snapped. “Don’t try to make me feel better. I’m a big girl. I’m not going to fall apart just because you don’t love me anymore. I don’t need any of this comforting bullshit. I don’t need you!”
Her eyes flashed at my show of temper, and suddenly she was angry too. “Why you selfish little -”
“What?!” I couldn’t believe she was picking on me. I was hurting, and she knew it. The least she could do was to let me vent!
“- witch. I’ve loved you for years, and I’ve watched you fall for just about every jerk there is.”
“Why you…”
“Then just because things don’t go your way once -”
“…sanctimonious, anal-retentive vamp!”
“- it’s all my fault? I’m supposed to feel guilty because I didn’t have sex with you when you finally felt like it?”
“I felt it in your aura!” I shouted, not caring anymore whether the entire street or all of the Hollows heard us. “Don’t lie to me, Ivy! I can take anything but that.” My voice cracked, wavering between grief and near-hysterics. “Don’t tell me you’re going to be here when you want to leave! Don’t pretend you still care when you -”
“Rachel!” It was the wild way she called my name that stopped me. The placid mask Ivy always wore fell from her in the same moment she sank to her knees in front of me and cupped my face in her gentle hands. Eyes the color of molten honey bored into mine, and I could see every bit of feeling that had stayed hidden there at last. “I care, Rachel. I will never stop.”
That did it. The dam inside me broke, and I sobbed as she kissed my cheeks and tasted my tears. They were for her at last. No, they were for us, a lost us if this last conversation ended like the others. She took me in her arms and rocked me as she had once before, when I thought I’d been bound and Ivy had kept telling me that I wasn’t.
“But you -” It was hard to talk through the tears. “You don’t want to.”
Her arms tightened around me. “Dear heart, it’s better if I don’t.”
“Why?” I was having trouble catching my breath because if she still cared, then there was a chance.
“Because what I’m getting into is dangerous.”
“Then you need help,” I managed to say. “You taught me to ask for help when I needed it. Why won’t you do the same?”
Ivy sighed as she sat back just enough to wipe my tears away. “I told you what it would take, Rachel, and it scares the living daylights out of you.”
Oh yeah, that. But who in her right mind wouldn’t be scared by this scion business? It had nearly torn Ivy apart once. I didn’t understand why she’d even consider… I took a deep breath. That was it, wasn’t it? I didn’t understand.
Maybe it was time to try. “Ivy, what’s it like, being a scion? You keep saying that it’s supposed to be an honor. Why?”
She gave me a long, careful glance, the kind Ivy threw my way when she was trying to gauge what I was getting at.
I returned it steadily. I was serious and I wanted her to know it. “Nick said that it wasn’t like being a shadow or a…or a thrall.” I wasn’t even sure what a thrall was.
She frowned, and muttered “crap for brains” under her breath. But as asinine as he was, Nick was a human who’d grown up among Inderlanders. He knew more about vampires than I did.
“They’re both about blood, aren’t they?” I prompted. “Blood and some kind of mental bond you can’t shake.” That’s the part that scared me. The blood, well after sharing mine with Ivy I’d pretty much come around that, but the possibility that someone could take over my will terrified me.
Ivy knew my misgivings so well, she didn’t need to guess where my thoughts were headed. “You can’t seriously think that they’re the same thing.” She made a sound of impatience at my uncertain expression. “Yes, they both involve blood and mental bonds but, Rachel, comparing a scion to a shadow is like saying that marriage and girls going wild over a boy band are the same. A vampire can have any number of shadows at his beck and call, if he wants. Shadows and thralls are about the blood ecstasy. You’ve seen them at Piscary’s.”
I nodded, trying not to shudder at the memory of those pale, blank faces.
“But a scion…” Ivy’s voice turned low, respectful, “even the most powerful vampire can only have one. For all the influence that a vampire has over a scion, that vampire must share with him or her something more. A scion will possess some of your strength and abilities; she’ll know your mind as you know hers.”
“As for forcing a scion, I won’t lie, it’s possible. But Piscary would've simply made me kill you if it was that easy,” she said bluntly. “It's not mind control, because a scion without her own will, whose every action must be directed, is useless. It’s more of a voice in your head, a teasing, compelling influence, and the more powerful the vamp the harder it is to resist, but one can resist. A scion isn't a shadow, or just another source of blood. She becomes a part of you. You must be able to trust her because no one will be closer to you, or have the most opportunity to kill you. That’s why choosing the wrong one can get you killed. Which is why it surprises everyone that Rynn is asking me," she ended.
I remembered something. “But Rynn already has a scion.”
Ivy nodded. “He does, but she wants to…move on. Only someone living can be a scion.”
So Rynn’s scion wanted to cross over and be an undead. “I don’t know about this, Ivy. I don’t trust him. Cormel,” I clarified. “It’s got to be a ruse. Cormel’s an undead master, why would he give that kind of power away? And the other master vampires, do you think they’d just willingly -”
Ivy smiled. “I know,” she said calmly. “And if we simply asked for power, the undead would never give it. That’s not the way it works for us. But if living vampires increased in strength and influence, if they formed allegiances among themselves and not just with their masters, and if it happened gradually, over the years…”
My jaw fell. Ivy was talking about, not exactly overthrowing the camarillas, but forming another system alongside it. No, within it. “You’re…planning to use Rynn? You’ll agree to be his scion but you have your own agenda?”
She nodded, and I realized by her tranquil coolness that she'd done this kind of thing before.
“I told you the truth, Rachel. I don’t want another 15 year old girl to go through what I did. I don’t want another boy to die like…Kisten. Piscary treated us like playthings.” Her tone was both angry and sad. “He got away with it because no one within the camarilla was strong enough to stop him, and outside Cincy no one cared. Undead vampires only fear the masters, but we who live, we feel, form bonds and friendships, and trade favors. A living vampire can’t stand up to an undead, much less to a master. But if he can call on five other living vampires for help, would a master find it so easy to give away his life’s blood then, or for an undead to take advantage?” she reasoned.
Ivy’s expression turned reflective. “The Weres will grow in number, and there are already too few of us to waste. Rynn is astute enough to see that. There’s a small window in which things can be done, things that by some weird, satirical black-humor twist of Fate I might be able to pull off. It’s possible that Rynn isn’t sincere, but that doesn’t matter in the long run if I can put things into motion. Once I do though, if the other masters realize what the real plan is…”
They’ll kill her. Tamwood or not, Ivy’s life wouldn’t be worth two cents if they found out. My mind was whirling. What had Piscary said? That Ivy had argued when he’d told her to leave the I.S. so she could keep an eye on me, only to discover that she’d planned it that way all along?
I stared at her, seeing my roommate in a new light. This is why Kisten and even Nick were certain that Ivy would rule Cincinnati one day. Not simply because she was a Tamwood, but because she was Ivy, and she’d been wise to the ways of the undead since she was fourteen.
“Why does it have to be you?” I asked.
“Because vampires look only to those who are stronger than they are.” Her eyes glinted, and she didn’t need to say the rest - that few among her kind could match her. Kisten told me that she’d walked in the sun and lived practically as an undead, and she’d survived. For all her love of plans, the bike and the leathers were not an act. Ivy was the best runner the I.S. had ever had, and part of that was because she was a rule-breaker just like me, and she got away with it.
“And you have to be a scion…?”
“Even the strongest of living vampires is no match for the youngest undead, unless she can lean on a master’s strength. Rynn would also place more trust in me.” She grinned, and her perfect teeth gleamed in the moonlight. “Which in turn would allow me to move more freely.”
“Because he’d have a window into your brain, Ivy!” I protested, pointing out the big hole in her plan. “He’d see what you were doing.”
“I have no intention of hiding this from him, not the main plan anyway. He offered, remember?” Ivy explained patiently. “I’m simply taking him up on it. Besides,” her gaze turned distant, considering, “he wants something too. For all his benign posturing, I think Cincinnati isn’t enough for Rynn. He wants more, but to do that he needs someone who can hold Cincy for him, preferably a vampire who’s in no hurry to be an undead and who…belongs.”
“Someone who has the bloodline,” I whispered, the pieces falling into place. Ivy was high-born, from a long line of living vampires. She was held in high regard by her camarilla’s masters, past and present. No mere undead would mess with her, not without a compelling reason. It wasn’t just Cormel’s protection either. Ivy’s mother, a powerful undead in her own right who’d nearly succeeded Piscary, would gladly rip out the heart of any who threatened her only living heir.
Ivy bent her head. With a pang, I recognized the gesture though I hadn’t seen it in ages. If her hair were longer it would fall like a curtain between us, shielding her face from me. “I never wanted any of this.”
There was a tiny quiver in her solemn voice, and it hit me how hard this must be for her. For as long as I’d known her, Ivy had wanted only to be her own person, free from anyone’s manipulation. In Piscary’s absence, and with her own growing control, she was almost there. But Rynn had made his offer and however she felt about it, her reasoning was impeccable. If things were to change, someone had to start. And right now it looked like the person with the best chance was Ivy.
Everything was already within her - the ability, the influence, the blood, and most of all the motivation. Unlike most of her kind, Ivy understood what she was fighting for, because she’d lived through it.
My fingers curled against her cheek. In surprise, she looked at me. “I’m sorry,” I said simply. I’d leapt to conclusions because Ivy’s revelation had made me panic. No wonder she’d gotten angry; I’d said no when this was something that ultimately concerned Ivy, and not me. This wasn’t my decision to make.
“What you’re planning scares me,” I admitted, “but this is your world we’re talking about, and if this is what you think needs to be done then I’m with you.”
I thought she’d be pleased at my apology. Instead Ivy looked horrified. “Rachel, I don’t want you involved!”
“Yeah? Well tough.” I stuck my chin out. “I’m not going anywhere either, you hear me, Ivy? Make your plans, play your game. But you’re right, this is dangerous. You need backup for this, and I’m it.”
“But there’s nothing you can do,” she protested, falling back on reason. As if that ever worked on me. “You said it yourself, this is about vampires.”
“We’ll see. I’m still not going,” I repeated. Then, more softly, “You can kick me out of your bed, out of your room,” I managed to say past the lump in my throat. “That’s your right. But whatever you decide, I’m staying to watch your back. I’m your friend, I…” I’d like to be more.
“But you hate vampire society,” she argued plaintively, sounding almost like a child.
“Yeah but…” I hesitated. “I’m not doing this for the greater good of vampires. I’m doing it for you.”
Ivy went still, and there was something about the expectant way she gazed at me that gave me hope. “Why?”
“Because I want…” I swallowed. This was it. I wasn’t very good at words, but if I didn’t pick the right ones tonight I might never get the chance again. “I want a life with you, Ivy, and I want it to be a long one. I’m going to do everything I can to make sure of that, including finding a way for you to keep your soul. And if we - if I fail in that…” I braced myself. I knew what Ivy wanted. Piscary had told her to keep me under control, but the offer to make me her scion had come from Ivy.
But the words wouldn’t come out. I couldn’t, not when there was still so much about this I didn’t understand. Even if it would surely fix things between us, I couldn’t make promises to Ivy that I wouldn’t live by. What had Nick said? ‘You’ll be second, but you’ll be second to a vampire slated to rule Cincinnati.’ Something like that. But that was exactly it. Neither Ivy nor I were good at being second, and I didn’t know what it would do to us if one of us had to be. I’d seen how the undead treated their scions.
Soft hands brushed against my face. “Don’t,” Ivy whispered.
My heart sank. I’d lost my chance. I scrabbled for words, wanting desperately to get it back. I hadn’t said no, dammit, I just needed time to process this! “But Ivy -”
The tips of her fingers rested against my lips, quieting me as she shook her head. “If we fail, I’ll be undead.” Her face was full of disquiet, of…fear. I realized that in the same way I had dropped my guard around Ivy earlier and shown her how weak I’d felt, she was doing the same now. “I didn’t tell you, but I bumped into Peter last month.”
My eyes widened. Peter, the first vampire whose death I had witnessed…and mourned. I had stayed with him till the end, and in those few moments we’d shared, we had talked like old friends. “You saw him? Why didn’t you mention it? Is he still with -” and suddenly I remembered. Peter, and the woman he loved. God, what was her name? The woman who, knowing what would happen to him, had volunteered to be his scion after his first death. I looked at Ivy.
She met my gaze, and her own was full of grief. As close as I had gotten to Peter, Ivy had known him longer. “If that happens,” she continued as if she hadn’t mentioned him, “I will be kind and I will love you, but I won’t be the same. I won’t remember why. In the beginning I may not even remember how. And it will cause you pain. I - I never realized how much my father loved my mother until…” In the dim light her eyes were shining with tears. “So…don’t.”
Dying scared her. It always had. I remembered how in her delirium Ivy had once begged me to watch over her, when she thought Piscary might’ve killed her. Now she was letting me see her fear again, and telling me at the same time that she wouldn’t ask this of me, because it would hurt me.
My brave, beautiful Ivy. I clasped her hands and my heart almost broke because they were trembling. “I won’t let the sun touch you,” I swore, fierce with the need to protect her. “If we fail - and we won’t - I’ll be by your side, whether I’m your scion or not.”
As I said the words, I knew it would break me. If Ivy died, and became a shell of the woman I knew and loved, it would hollow me out. But I’d bear it. If that’s what it took to spend a life with Ivy, I’d do it. “I’m sorry I can’t promise you forever,” I murmured apologetically, conscious for the first time of how little I could offer her. “You’ll be immortal. But I can promise that I’ll watch over you for the rest of my life. I’ll keep you safe, Ivy. You’ll be able to sleep in peace.”
She laughed, one of those Rachel’s-being-ridiculous laughs that made me frown in confusion. The tears she’d carefully held back were falling. “Oh Rachel,” she breathed, touching my hair, “don’t you know that’s the worst thing you can say? Don’t make me think of a life without you.” Her hands were on my face again, framing me. “Dear heart, I only want forever if it’s with you.”
Then she kissed me, sweetly, like she had two nights ago, and this time I was the one tasting the salt of her tears on my lips.
Vampire incense enveloped me, and my arms rose to draw her close. Surrounded by Ivy, her warmth, her love, I felt at peace, whole, like I’d been searching and wandering all my life and finally I’d found home.
God help me, I think she was finally mine. And I had no plans of ever letting her go. I murmured her name almost reverently as I tipped my face up to hers, and shivered as her kisses burned deeper, wanting more. My Ivy.
Suddenly a hundred thirty-plus years didn’t seem anywhere near long enough.