[Hollows Fic] Let Sleeping Vamps Lie - Part Eight

[jaina47]

Title: Let Sleeping Vamps Lie
Author(s): Jaina
Fandom: The Hollows aka Rachel Morgan aka that series by Kim Harrison
Time frame: Post-Outlaw Demon Wails
Characters: Rachel Morgan, Ivy Tamwood, Jenks, Skimmer, etc.
Genre: Romance, action, drama
Summary: Rachel is forced to confront things that she'd prefer left undisturbed.
Beta: Many thanks to my both of my betas: infinitlight and racethewind10. They both contribute a lot to this story and I'm grateful for their help and their patience.
Disclaimer: All characters, and the universe that they go with belong to Kim Harrison. I'm just playing in the sandbox. No infringement is intended.
Prompt: #6 Dread
Notes: Some of the formatting on here is a bit wonky. I worked with it for a while and couldn't get it to do anything different so my apologies for the weirdness.

Part One || Part Two II Part Three || Part Four || Part Five || Part Six || Part Seven



"What? His father?  I thought his father was dead?" 

"He is," Ivy said succinctly. 

I flushed.  Of course, Kisten's father was dead.  If he was the vampire who'd attacked me then he was certainly undead.

"He's been dead since Kist was just a few years old."  

"But why...." I tried to clear my head and fumbled for something coherent to say.  So many different thoughts were whirling through my mind. "Kisten never told me anything about him."

Ivy grimaced and slumped inwards, her usual good posture vanishing under the weight of emotion. "He wouldn't have." 

For a moment she covered her face with her hands and breathed in deeply.  Almost too surprised by her unexpected show of emotion in front of me, it was a moment before I scooted closer, sitting so that my leg was pressed against hers.  I reached out and then hesitated, unsure of whether Ivy would want me to comfort her or not.  I didn't want her to hide what she was feeling from me again.

"Ivy?" 

She straightened, skimming the heel of her hand over her face so quickly that I almost missed the gesture before she turned to look at me.

"He didn't like to talk about his father, Rachel.  It was...not good."  She shook her head.  "Kisten was of his mother's line, not his father's. She married beneath her heritage."  Her mouth twisted into a pained grimace.  "For love, she always said.  His father resented Kist and even grew to resent his wife."  She shrugged.  "Kist's mom died - twice - just a few years after her husband became undead.  Kist always suspected foul play on his father's part, but it was nothing he could prove."

It was a lot to take in.  There was so much I hadn't know about Kist, even after a year.  At the time, I'd been content to wait, to explore things slowly.  Now I wished I hadn't been so careless with the time we had. 

Leaning into Ivy, I rested my shoulder against hers.  It was a shared sorrow.

"But why would Piscary give Kisten to him?  It doesn't make sense."  Ivy frowned, creases marring the perfect smoothness of her forehead.

"Actually it makes a lot of sense."  She shook her head in disgust. "I can't believe I didn't think of it sooner."

At my puzzled look, she continued. "Kisten's dad runs a very powerful and very dangerous camarilla in Detroit."  She let out a small sigh. "Given his history with his father, you can imagine how badly Kist wanted to get outside of his father's sphere of influence.  Piscary was one of his father's main rivals.  Kisten's defection gained him Piscary's immediate favor and protection from his father, while it gave Piscary a chance to rub it in Archer's face.  When Kist angered Piscary, it made sense that he would give him back to his father."

"It would have humiliated Kisten." 

"And it would have meant that Archer owed him a favor that cost Piscary nothing in return," Ivy continued my line of thought smoothly. 

The twisted and precarious nature of vampire politics struck me once again.  For a moment, we sat in silence, the full enormity of finally achieving what we'd struggled for so long to figure out sinking in slowly. 

The touch of Ivy's hand on my wrist dragged my attention back to her from the slow spin of my thoughts.  I looked up at her and smiled softly.  Even in the middle of a moment like this, it was still my first, unguarded reaction to her.  Ivy smiled gently back, as she slipped her fingers through mine and then brought our joined hands up to her lips.  Keeping her eyes firmly on mine, she lightly kissed the back of my hand, just below my knuckles.

The soft, dry pressure of her lips against my skin was like lighting a barely banked flame.  It drove all thoughts of our conversation straight out of my mind.  What had most likely been intended as merely a gesture of comfort and reassurance on Ivy's part, had become something else in a moment. I needed to feel something that wasn't fear. 

I surged forward awkwardly, wrapping my hand around the back of Ivy's neck to pull her forward, and kissed her.  My other hand fumbled free of Ivy's and caught at her waist, as I struggled to slip around the bench so that I was facing her, not sitting beside her.

Ivy's arms went around me, despite her surprise, and pinned me close to her body as I moaned into her mouth.   I found smooth skin under the thin material of Ivy's baggy sweater as my hands roamed her body.  Her breath hissed in sharply, and she clung to me more tightly.  Her grasp almost became painful in its strength. 

"Ivy."  I broke the frantic kiss, jolted by a sudden burst of nerves.  I'd gotten carried away, loosing myself in Ivy and the moment.  I hadn't intended to let it go so far.  "Ivy, let go," I added, struggling to keep my voice calm.  Ivy's control had improved incredibly; I wouldn't be here if it hadn't.  There were still moments though, when Ivy could be a little scary.

Her arms immediately loosened around me.  "I'm sorry."  She took a deep breath and held it, until she could let it out slowly.  "I'm sorry," she repeated.  "I didn't mean to start that."  She smiled with painful shyness. "Sometimes I just can't believe that this isn't all just another dream."

I cupped her face gently, confident that she had regained control again.  "If it is a dream, it's one we're both having and I like it." 

Ivy leaned into my touch; her eyes drifted closed.  "I have to go, Rachel."  Her voice was thin and breathy.  From experience, I knew she was standing on the precipitous edge of choice, denying herself even as there was something within her reach that she desperately wanted.

"Why?"

Her eyes opened, revealing pools of the darkest black, encircled with only a hint of brown. I froze, my heart skipping a beat.

"I need to speak with Rynn.  He'll have more information about Archer."

I immediately hated that suggestion.  "That's dangerous," I said flatly. "If he finds out that you're asking for information about him..."  My second reason for hating her suggestion was less honorable.  I didn't want her around Rynn Cormel.  He was no Piscary, but he was still an undead vampire and there were no undead vampires that I trusted.  He could ask anything of Ivy and she would be forced to give it to him.  Anything.

So, I was jealous.  That was it at its simplest and most blunt. There was also nothing I could do about it; not as long as Ivy owed him her loyalty.

"I'll be fine," Ivy assured me. "I've done things like this before. I know how to be discreet."

If there was one trait that Ivy and I shared, it was stubborness.  We both had it in spades and I knew that I wasn't likely to change her mind tonight.  Wistfully, I sighed.  

"Come home before sunrise," I asked softly.  I would sleep better knowing that she was safely back in the church.

Her gentle smile was not quite an answer.  Slowly she drew me to her again, and kissed me gently. 

"Goodnight, Rachel."

****    ****    ****

I woke to bright light pouring in through the windows.  Turn it, I'd forgotten to close the curtains again the night before.  I blinked sleepily and tried to shield my eyes from the worst of the light.  It was mostly a futile gesture. 

"Rache?  You up?"

Jenks' voice echoed through the church, and I grimaced as I sat up in bed.  Most days pixy hearing was a gift; some days it was a curse.

"Barely," I groaned more to myself than Jenks.  Unfortunately he heard, as evidenced by the way he flew into my room, leaving a shimmer of pixy dust drifting down in his wake.

"Good."  He hovered at the foot of the bed, hands on his hips in his favorite pose. "We have a run." 

"What?"  I blinked stupidly and rubbed at my eyes again, as if that would make what he'd said make more sense.

"We have a run," he spoke slowly and enunciated every word with exagerated slowness.

I'd have found something to throw at him if I thought it might have the slightest chance of making him lose the patronizing attitude.  Sometimes it was more obvious than others that Jenks was the father of way too many teenage pixy girls.

"How did we get a run?  We didn't have one last night," I grumbled.  A thought hit me and my eyes narrowed.  "Did you forget to write down the phone messages again?"

Even at this distance I could see his eyes roll.

"Tink's titties, but you're grumpy when you wake up."  He darted forwards several feet.  "No, he called this morning."  His grin was positively devilish.  "I think it was an actual human."

It was my turn to roll my eyes.  "What would a human want with a runner?"

"He wouldn't say, but I think it would be worth checking out."  Jenks was suddenly in serious partner mode.  "He offered to pay anything you wanted."  He paused again for effect.  "Up front.  In cash."

That was enough to get me up and moving, if nothing else.  I was already thinking ahead to what I'd need to take with me as I shooed Jenks out of my room so that I could get dressed.

***   ***   ***

Ivy's jacket was draped over her chair in the kitchen and her helmet sat in the middle of the table.  So she had gotten in sometime, even if I'd been too deeply asleep to notice it.  Something in my chest relaxed; I hadn't even realized I'd been worried about her absence.  Just knowing she was safe in the church was enough. 

If this guy was running a human schedule he'd be impatient enough as it was.  I scrawled a brief note for Ivy, explaining my absence just before I headed out the door.

Jenks met me outside, keeping up with me until I was in the car and then perching on my shoulder.  Sinking into the seats, I couldn't help but smile.  It was a gorgeous spring day; I was doing a job that I loved; and I could once again drive my kick-ass car without fear of I.S. repercussions.  It was a very good day.

I pulled out onto the street, and resisted the urge to make the tires squeal.  This was the Hollows after all, and many of my neighbors would not appreciate the noise.  Putting up with the occasional demon appearance was bad enough, noise at an indecent hour was just asking too much.  They'd report me to the I.S. in a heartbeat and that was the last thing I needed!

Wind sent my hair streaming back over my shoulders, and whipping around my face.  The roar of air rushing past us kept Jenks and I from making any conversation. Even so his silence was unusual, and I'd been wondering about it since we'd left the church.

It made me remember our conversation about Jih the day before.  Something had struck me as odd then, something I still couldn't identify now and it was making me nervous. 

Smoothly changing lanes, I took the exit ramp off the interstate and waited until the rush of air had died down.

"So, uh, how did everything go with Jih yesterday?"  It wasn't exactly subtle, but Jenks and I didn't discuss his family a lot.  We were usually too busy trying to keep my ass from getting smeared by some demon or undead vampire or criminal underlord. 

"Oh."  Jenks seemed surprised and a little taken aback that I'd asked.  "Good.  Yeah, it was good."

I took my eyes off the road to glance over at him incredulously. Now I knew something was wrong.  No inventive invective about a certain celebrity pixy, no enthusiasm.  That couldn't be right. 

"Okay."  What could I say? I didn't want to push.  We'd mostly gotten over the trust issues we'd had after I hadn't told him what Trent really was, but sometimes they still reared their ugly heads.  "But if you ever want to talk about it...."

Jenks' wings sped up, even as he stood next to the passenger seat headrest, creating a distracting shimmer of bright colors behind him. 

"Now that you mention it, Rache...."  The way his voice trailed off made me nervous.  "Tink's contractual hell! What were you thinking, witch?" 

I blinked, taken aback by his sudden rant.  I hadn't done anything to warrant that in days.  No stupid runs, no visiting Al in the ever-after, no Trent-baiting. Nothing.  So I got defensive.

"What is your problem, pixy? I haven't done anything, and even if I had, you're my partner, not my father.  You don't get to lecture me!"

I swerved around the next car a little bit more forcefully than necessary.  Jenks fluttered into the air to catch his balance, before he settled back down onto the back of the seat.

"It's not lecturing to point out when you're doing something stupid, Rachel.  I can't believe it.  I thought you'd finally gotten smart after last Halloween, but now this."  He shook his head.  

Only the genuine concern in his voice kept me from snapping back again. 

"Jenks...what are you talking about?"

He looked over at me in disbelief.  "Did you get hit on the head?  Or did she finally convince you to let her bind you?"

"Jenks, what-"  I realized what he meant before I could finish my thought.  Irritation turned to full fledged anger.  "Ivy didn't bind me."  Hot tears pricked my eyes.  It hurt, Jenks' doubt.  "Not that it's any of your business," I added defiantly. "But she hasn't even tried to bite me."

"Yet."  Jenks single word stopped me cold.  "She's a living vampire, Rachel, and she can't be anything other than what she is.  Don't fool yourself."

"Shut up," I snapped back at him.  "Now you sound like Skimmer.  Ivy is her own person; she's more than just a vamp's desires."

"Maybe," Jenks said skeptically, "But she's still Ivy.  And you're still you.  What happens when you freak out about something?  Ivy's not Kisten or Nick.  She's broken and for better or worse, you hold her together.  What happens when things don't work out? You leave; she leaves.  You both fall apart." He shook his head. "I'm only one pixy, Rachel. I can't pick up the pieces of both of you."

It was a good thing I was putting the car in park, because I was so distracted I could hardly think.  I felt like I was choking on everything that I was feeling. It was all too much. I don't know what I'd expected from Jenks, but it wasn't this.  

"It's not your job to pick up the pieces, Jenks," I said sharply.  "So why don't you mind your own business from here on out?"

The pixie dust that was falling heavily from Jenks was a crimson red.  "Fine, witch.  Take care of yourself. See if I care, but don't come crawling back to me when things go wrong."

"Fine," I echoed him, unable to come up with a better comeback at the moment. I slammed the car door loudly behind me as I got out and headed off to meet my client.

This had better be good.