[Fic] Return to the Hollows - Rachel/Ivy (5/11)

[jaina47]

Title: Return to the Hollows
Author(s): Jaina
Fandom: The Hollows aka Rachel Morgan aka that series by Kim Harrison
Characters: Rachel Morgan, Ivy Tamwood,
Genre: Drama, angst, romance
Summary: Rachel is always making mistakes. One day things go too far. Some mistakes can't be fixed or gone past. Some mistakes are lasting, and some have consequences that can change lives.
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.
Spoilers: Goes through White Witch, Black Curse, although I don't think they're particularly glaring or massive.
Notes: My thanks to my beta for this one, infinitlight . She was awesome enough to look over this massive fic for me, and I really appreciate the time, effort and level of detail that she put into looking over this. Also the number of times that she had to uncapitalize were and warehouse. Sorry, dude. My bad.

Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four

Part Five


The smell of antiseptic was overwhelming. It was so strong that the stench of fumes almost seemed to waft through the air, like something out of a low budget cartoon. I blinked, trying to block out the too-bright light and groaned. Everything hurt.

Fairy farts, what had I been doing? It wasn't just that I felt like I had gotten run over by a pack of pissed-off weres, which now that I thought back, wasn't that far from what had actually happened, but that every muscle in my body - as well as quite a few that I hadn't known were there - was screaming with dull, nagging pain. It felt like my first, worst week of being a runner - when they had put us through as many grueling workouts as they could. By that point, I'd had a few years to work on regaining my strength and recover from the weakness that Rosewood's syndrome had left me with, but it had still been hell. There was no way I wanted to go back to that.

"Rachel?"

I ducked instinctively at the loud noise, and then shot Glenn a glare, before sinking back into the lumpy pillows.

"Turn it, Glenn," I muttered in disgust. "Do you have to yell?"

He shot me another look which translated to roughly "What Are You Talking About, Rachel?", which was weird because Glenn was yelling. It wasn't my fault this time. I wasn't acting like the crazy witch. He was being the weird one.

"Do you remember how you got here, Rachel?" His voice was still obnoxiously loud. Maybe he thought my hearing had been damaged? But at least he was speaking lower than he had before.

"Of course I know how I got here," I shot back quickly. "I.... Well, I mean...." I paused and then smiled triumphantly. "I was at the warehouse." It was coming back now. "There were weres." Weres...warehouses. It seemed like something that should be in a child's nursery rhyme.

"How many?"

Glenn wasn't looking at me any more. Instead he had a pad and pen out, ready to jot down my answer.

"Three. No, four," I corrected myself quickly. Couldn't forget the one inside after all.

"What did they want?"

I recognized the questions and what he was doing. They were easy leading questions, meant to take my mind through what had happened one small step at a time, to bring back as many details as possible. Glenn was acting like, well, he was acting like I had been the victim of a crime.

I shook my head and instantly regretted it. It made my head swim and my eyes water. I blinked again, forcing the irritating moisture back, and tried to regain my focus.

"They didn't say." None of them had been big on talking, actually. Which was a little bit surprising. Most thugs, when they ran into someone who looked like an easy target, liked to rub it in, instill fear into their victim to make their job easier.

"Do you think it's related to the witch murders?"

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes in his direction. "I haven't had time to piss off anyone else in town."

Glenn's raised eyebrow said it all. He didn't need to actually bring up my talent for making powerful people very angry. I ignored it and asked what I had been wanting to know.

"What happened to the weres?"

Glenn sighed. "By the time we got back to the warehouse only one of them was still there. The one inside the building. We picked him up and brought him back to be held for questioning."

"Good." At least something had gone right today. I sat up and swung my legs over the side of the bed. "How soon can I talk to him?"

"Hold on, Rachel," Glenn said quickly, putting his hand on my shoulder to hold me in place. "You can't just get up and leave. The doctors need to check you out."

"Why? I feel fine."

Well, except for the way my entire body ached and the weird sensitivity to - pretty much everything, actually. Noise, light, touch, smell - everything seemed more heightened, but Glenn didn't need to know that, did he? I would be fine, and besides I had a job to do.

"Because you were unconscious when you showed up in the middle of Tamwood's office. They need to do some more tests to make sure that you don't have a head injury before they can let you go."

I froze. It felt as if someone had just poured a bucket of ice cold water over my head.

"What are you talking about, Glenn?" I demanded.

Glenn sighed. "I was hoping that you could tell me. Tamwood brought you into the emergency room. She said she was sitting in her office and you just appeared out of nowhere on her floor, looking a little bit beat up and bleeding. That's when she called the ambulance."

I struggled to remember what had happened. I remembered the three weres outside of the warehouse; staring them down, seeing the cold determination in their eyes. I had tried to call on the nearby ley line to subdue them, but it hadn't had enough power. The panicky feeling of desperation came back to me all too easily. It was so strong, I could almost taste it.

Then what happened next came back to me abruptly. I had kicked their collective were asses. It shouldn't have been possible. I wasn't fast enough or anywhere near strong enough. I'd had my own ass handed to me by weres enough times to know that. Three against one should have turned me into one giant Rachel-burger, not just left me slightly bruised-up in the hospital.

Still, I couldn't remember what came after that. Why I would have gone to Ivy's.... From Glenn's description of how I had gotten there, it sounded like I had jumped the lines. It wasn't something that I did frequently. It tended to really freak out the I.S. and the FIB, but I knew how. Several years under Al's dedicated tutelage had certainly seen to that.

"I need to go see Ivy." The words left my mouth before I realized what I was thinking.

Glenn was looking at me with way too much interest. It was the same look that he had given me back at the church when he had been prying into why I had left, and what Ivy had to do with it. It wasn't a look that I liked very much.

"They're still not going to want to let you leave."

And, okay, maybe I was getting a little bit tired of Glenn being overprotective.

"Are you holding me here in custody, Glenn?" I asked, as I glanced around the room, searching for my clothes. I didn't want to accidentally flash Glenn while I was hunting around for them.

"Of course not," he said quickly. "Turn it, Rachel. Don't be stubborn about this."

I gave him my best smile and grabbed the small bag and pulled out my jeans.

"Unless you're going to arrest me, you can't stop me," I pointed out. "I'll come by the station after I talk to Ivy. I want to ask that guy you found at the warehouse some questions." I stopped, a thought hitting me suddenly. "How did you know to look at the warehouse?"

"When I heard you were in the hospital, I decided to backtrack your steps. You always seem to find more than your share of trouble."

"And I never even have to try," I said sweetly.

*** *** ***

The Tamwood estate was just as big and sprawling as I remembered. If anything, it only looked more foreboding now. Or maybe that was just the nerves talking. I couldn't help but be slightly nervous, thinking about the last time I had seen Ivy. I couldn't deny what I had felt around her and now I was deliberately going to her home to seek her out.

The only thing to do was to walk up to the door and knock. Except that it wasn't that easy. It couldn't be. The gates were locked. My hands were shaking as I hit the button for the intercom.

There was a long pause.

"Do you have an appointment?"

"Uh, n-" I cut myself off mid-word.

Maybe my brain had gotten more jarred than I had thought, for me to answer so honestly. Saying no would be the quickest way to get tossed on my ear and I didn't know how else to get a hold of Ivy. Well, there was always jumping through the lines, apparently, but I wasn't ready to try that again.

"Yes, I do," I said confidently. "Ms. Tamwood is expecting me."

There was another long pause and then the gates swung inwards. I hit the gas, moving the car forward. I was incredibly conscious of the gates closing behind me. My nerves intensified and my breathing sped up embarrassingly.

Jenks was right, so right. I was really and truly an idiot. Last night had been something. Seeing Ivy there had brought back everything that I had felt for her - the way that one look from her could melt my heart and make me want to never let her go. It had dulled the edges of the fear that had gripped my heart for years, and now I was practically serving myself to Ivy on a golden platter.

She wanted me; she always had, and now there was nothing but the purity of her heart to stop her from taking what she wanted. I knew, had known from the moment she'd made me stop on my way out of the church, that she could control me in every way. It was terrifying, even if it had been an accidental gesture on her part. But I couldn't live in the constant fear of that. My freedom was one of the things most dear to me and I wouldn't give it up for anyone, not even Ivy.

That was what I was thinking when I stepped out of my car and walked towards the door. It swung open before I could go to knock.

Ivy stood in the doorway, wearing another business suit. It was still jarring to see her dressed that way. She looked like a different person entirely. Her hair fell softly around her face. One tendril had drifted across her eyes.

"Come in."

I swallowed. Not time to chicken out now. This was what I had come here for, after all.

"Thank you."

I stepped inside as Ivy pulled the door shut behind me.

"Would you like something to drink?" Ivy offered politely.

It seemed so odd to be here with Ivy like this, being offered a drink in her home like I was a stranger.

"No. No, thanks." My hands pressed into my thighs, damp with sweat. I clenched them into fists and shoved them into my pockets.

I followed her into the living room. She still moved with that same fluid grace. The sway of her hips was entrancing in its familiarity.

"Rachel?" The surprised, prompting tone of her voice jerked me out of my daze.

"What?" I blinked in surprise, trying to yank my attention back to what was actually going on, not whatever dangerous path my thoughts had been trailing down.

For the first time I wondered how much effect being near Ivy would have on me. Of course, I wasn't immune to her. As much as I had thought I was, I could see now that I never really had been. She'd always had this hold over me that we had never really been able to explain.

In the past, it hadn't really bothered me. It was easier to put it down to love, than to look for another explanation. Ivy had loved to tease me about the way I had fallen for her without even realizing it, and I hadn't minded at all. I had been so in love with her that I had leaped without looking. I hid a grimace. And just look where that had gotten me.

Here, after years of being in a self-imposed exile from the Hollows and Ivy. Here, in Ivy's sprawling home, watching her sink into a comfortable seat on the couch and feeling like the scared young runner I had been the first time I had walked into my I.S. office and realized that my partner would be a living vampire, and a very powerful one at that.

I gave myself a mental slap to snap myself out of my reverie and took a seat across from Ivy. The leather cushions enveloped me as I sat back, surrounding me with Ivy's scent. Maybe coming here hadn't been the best idea.

"Are you going to make showing up to see me unannounced and with no explanation a habit? I just ask, because if you are, I can set aside some time in my schedule for it."

I glared. Ivy had always been able to set off my temper like no one else. She slipped under my skin so easily.

"Don't worry. I just need some questions answered and I'll be out of your hair for good."

Was it my imagination or did her eyes narrow at that? I swallowed. Apparently I was still pretty good at sticking my foot in my mouth where Ivy was concerned.

She leaned back a little bit further into the couch, her lips pressing into a thin line. I took that as a gesture to get on with it.

"Glenn said you brought me into the hospital?"

For the first time, I noticed the faint lines that crinkled the skin at the corner of her eye and creased the corner of her lips.

"You appeared at my office unconscious." Her easy, welcoming expression was gone now. "An explanation would be nice, Rachel."

I grimaced. "I was hoping you could explain. I don't remember anything. I was wondering.... Did you - Is there some way that a vamp can call their shadow to them?"

Ivy stood so quickly that the movement actually looked jerky. For the first time, I couldn't read the expression on her face. Gone were the hints of the woman that I had known, replaced by a blank facade. It was even more effective at creating distance than the air of danger she had once cultivated.

"You're going to come here, and accuse me of-" She bit off what she had been about to say and began to pace in front of the couch. "You came to me, Rachel. You barged back into my life with no warning. I didn't ask for this, so don't blame me." Her hands trembled at her sides with suppressed emotion.

I was on my feet almost as quickly as she was.

"I'm sorry, but I don't know about any of this."

She folded her arms across her chest. The look in her eyes was hard to decipher, but mostly just made me want to look away. I stubbornly held her gaze.

"Who's fault is that? I wasn't the one who ran away."

I flinched and looked away, finding the window that looked out over the sun-dappled grounds. The breeze swayed lightly through the trees, and the well-manicured lawns looked especially inviting.

"Yeah, that's right," I snapped back. "You were the one who bound me against my will."

I was holding my arm so tightly it was almost painful, but I couldn't loosen my grip. My nails bit into the skin. Only the thought of drawing blood - a habit so deeply ingrained in me to avoid - made me relax, fractionally.

Ivy stopped pacing in mid-stride. She looked stricken. Her usually ivory skin was suddenly deathly pale.

It was the first time that it had been said. Now it was out there, standing between us. I tried to feel defiant, but the only emotion that came was a great weight of exhaustion.

Ivy looked away, turning her head as if she had heard something from another room. Her eyes still seemed haunted as she glanced back at me.

"I didn't have anything to do with you coming to my office today." She paused. "I think you should go now."

"Ivy...."

I didn't know what I wanted to follow that with. Part of me wanted to rage, to demand to know why she had done it, why she had bound me to her. I had trusted her completely and she had betrayed me, just as thoroughly. Seeing Ivy look so sad and hurt had triggered something in me, though. That look of pain and vulnerability had always gotten to me, made me want to hold her in my arms and make it all better, even when that wasn't possible.

Even worse, I hated the conflict between the emotions that I was feeling. How was it possible that I still cared for the woman who had tried to rip my life, my freedom of choice, from me? It wasn't.

"Go, Rachel," she said softly. "Just go."

I swallowed one more time and headed for her door. Once upon a time, I would have pushed Ivy, pushed her into anger to see what she was hiding beneath it. I would have followed her and kept arguing and bothering her until she told me what she was upset about. Sometimes it had ended with both of us angry and sulking in our own rooms. Other times it had ended with us together, neither one of us upset anymore and caring very little about why we had argued.

Then I had known just how far I could push Ivy, before it would blow up in my face. Somewhere in the intervening years I'd lost the knack for that subtle dance that we had slowly made into an art form.

*** *** ***

I drove for a while, just letting the wind whip my hair into a flurry of red tangles. It would be almost impossible to deal with in the morning, but at the moment I didn't care. I just wanted to drive and not think. It was moments like this that I missed Jenks the most.

I screwed my face up and tried to push away my morose thoughts. Being back in the Hollows was getting to me, and making me think about things that I had pushed away for years, like Ivy and what had eventually happened to Jenks. Pixies didn't live forever; I had known that, but somehow it had always seemed like Jenks might be the exception to that rule if I just wished hard enough.

I missed my friend and confidant - the one who could point out all the stupid things I was doing and make me listen. Most of all I missed knowing that someone had my back, no questions asked.

It made my decision for me. I took the next exit off the interstate and wound my way through the city, eventually making my way into a residential area. It took me about half an hour to find the right street and a little bit longer after that to find the address that I was looking for.

I parked the car and took in the house. Like many of the houses in the Hollows occupied by an Inderland family, it was completely boring and normal. It looked small and neat, the paint wasn't chipped or fading, but not precisely new either. It was just right.

The only thing that made it stand out was the garden. Flowers spilled out of window boxes and trailed down the wall. Blooms filled the flower beds and the thick aroma of a multitude of herbs spilled out across the yard.

If I was at the right address, then the people inside likely already knew that I was there. Quen was one security-conscious elf, after all. It was his job, and it was even less likely that he would take a chance with the life of his wife and daughter than with his employer.

It had been my idea to come here, but I wasn't sure that I was ready to go inside. Part of me had wanted the comfort and familiarity of seeing Ceri. That same part of me was afraid that seeing Ceri would only make me feel worse. Nothing had gone right with my return to the Hollows so far. I didn't want to see the disappointment in her eyes, too.

Getting out of the car, I slowly made my way up the walk and knocked lightly on the door. Silence stretched. Maybe no one was home. It wasn't like I had seen a car in the driveway. Of course, the last time I had seen Ceri she couldn't drive, but maybe that had changed. There was no telling what inventions of the new millennium she had figured out while I was gone.

The door swung open just as I was fixing to head back to the car. A teenage girl with a fragile build and a belligerent expression stood in the doorway. Her fine nose was vaguely upturned. The fine points of her ears were almost hidden by her long, sun-bleached blond hair.

I swallowed, realizing almost immediately who this girl was. Ray. The little girl that had been named after me after I had gone into the Ever After with Trent and retrieved a sample of Elf DNA before they had been infected by the demons. It was also how I had ended up as Al's student, but that wasn't really anyone's fault but my own.

Turn it, but the little girl that I had known had gotten so big.

"Is, uh, is your Mom here?" I couldn't believe I was stuttering like an idiot. There was no reason to be nervous. Yeah, right. Ceri was going to be pissed with me too.

Only my Mom would have been happy to see me, and that was only because she was always happy to see me. She had to be. She was my mom.

The look on Ray's face went from belligerent to suspicious in an instant.

"Did someone send you here?"

"No." I hoped I didn't sound as bewildered as I felt. "No one sent me. I just came to see her. She's an old friend."

The door slammed in my face with enough force to rattle the frame. Some instinct, long ingrained from a life mostly spent dodging trouble, made me abruptly step back away from the door. It was fortunate, because a spell hit the door with a wet splat, passing directly through where I had been standing. It hit the door in spots, hissing and fizzling as it ate into the wood, and letting out a disgusting smell.

"Hey!" I snapped angrily as I hit the ground, ducking any further incoming spells. I had my magnetic chalk out of my pocket instantly, drawing a rough circle around me on the sidewalk.

I didn't even need to say the word out loud to send the sheet of ever-after whirling up around me. The red and golds of my aura were stained with nasty smears of black. It turned everything on the other side of my circle hazy.

"What the Turn?" I demanded, gesturing wildly with my hands. "Why the hell are you shooting spells at me? I didn't do anything, damn it!" I stomped my foot indignantly and tried not to think about what I was going to do if this wasn't a misunderstanding.

Circles were great and all. Nothing could get through them, but eventually you had to come out. It was all a matter of when. And the person on the outside always had the advantage.

Okay, so I had known Ceri probably wouldn't be happy with me, but I really had not expected this level of unhappiness. Usually Ceri's tantrums were loud and visible, but all flash and little real damage. The spell that had just been slung at me had been serious.

Every second I lingered in my small, self-made prison, I grew a little bit angrier. I would not stay trapped in my own circle. I would not be caged.

I was reaching in my bag for my splat gun when the front door was noisily thrown open in front of me.

"Rachel?"

Ceri was standing on her steps, barefoot and with her hair in disarray, as if she had been running. Her hand was down at her side, but I recognized the tension in her stance and the slight curve of her fingers. She wasn't throwing any curses yet, but I didn't have to tap a line to know that she had already done the same. So why was she holding back now?

"Look, Ceri, I understand that you're upset, but what were you thinking?" Okay, so I hadn't really meant to yell, but I couldn't help it. I was pissed off and more than a little bit freaked out. "I wouldn't have been worth fairy farts if I hadn't moved," I fumed. "That's just, just..." I fumbled for a word that was tantalizingly out of reach on the tip of my tongue.

Ceri's eyes narrowed in consideration as she came slowly down the steps, wariness written in every line of her body.

"Take down the circle," she said with such authority that my hand was almost touching the thin sheet of ever-after before I could stop myself.

I raised an eyebrow challengingly.

"Promise not to blast me again?"

"Are you a demon?"

I recoiled from the not-completely-unfamiliar accusation. My heart sank and I felt sick. I had heard that accusation from a lot of people - even one or two demons - but never from Ceri. She had always maintained that I was not a demon, that I was still a witch. To hear it from her....

"You said I wasn't," I said hoarsely. "Not really."

But now she was looking at me with relief in her eyes.

"Rachel, it really is you." There was wonder in her voice. "Isn't it?"

"Yeah," I said carefully. "Yeah, it is. What the hell was that, Ceri?"

"Oh, that was Ray." She waved her hand casually behind her.

I felt energy flow back into the nearby ley line and relaxed a little bit more.

"She overreacted when you said you were an old friend. She knows about my circumstances, of course, and that generally 'old friend' means demon. She wasn't taking any chances." Her face grew serious and her gaze looked far away. "As her father taught her to."

I brushed the back of my knuckles against the nearest part of my circle. It fell away instantly. I tensed, long habit making me wary of being vulnerable. It had kept my ass above ground more than once. This time, however, it turned out to be unnecessary. No curses or potions came flying my way. I let out a slow, uneven breath.

I swallowed and tried to think of something polite to say.

"I didn't mean to startle her."

Ceri shook her head, brushing away my concern. A smile slipped over her features.

"Rachel Morgan." She looked me up and down. "What are you doing here?"

"Uh, can I come in?" I asked awkwardly. This wasn't really a conversation I wanted to have in her front yard.

"Oh!" Ceri exclaimed as if she had forgotten where we were. "Of course, come on in. Would you like some tea?" she asked as we went inside.

The walls were done in a rich, dark wood, with bare wooden flooring. Some of the boards creaked lightly underfoot. The whole house was covered in little hints of Ceri. There was a spray of flowers on the table by the door, but when I looked closely, they were made up of herbs that brought luck and protection.

The rooms were decorated with Ceri's usual understated elegance. In the midst of it all were bits of technology and minutia, an iPod lying discarded on the coffee table, a skateboard tucked into a corner, a backpack beside the couch; objects that had been completely foreign to Ceri before. They stood out against the background, but still seemed a part of it.

It had been a long time since I'd been in a home that felt so comfortably lived in.

Ceri led me to the kitchen. I braced myself against the counter and watched as she puttered around. I heard her muttering over the kettle and I smiled appreciatively as I heard it whistling and signaling its readiness. I had watched Ceri make tea dozens of times before and she still followed the same patterns. A thousand years of habit didn't fade overnight - or even over several years.

When Ceri handed me the dainty cup of tea, I held it gingerly until I took my first sip. Then I closed my eyes in bliss.

"Perfect," I said with a smile as I opened my eyes, just in time to catch the slight smile on Ceri's face.

"Mmm," she made a noise of careful agreement. "It's good to see you, Rachel."

"It's good to see you too, Ceri."

"But somehow, I don't think you just came to see me for the tea and company."

My smile froze and slipped away. Gently, I sat down the tea cup and straightened.

"No, I didn't. I need your help."

Ceri's frown wasn't what I was expecting.

"I'm not sure I can help you this time, Rachel." She wrung her hands nervously. "I owe you everything for getting me free of Algaliarept, but I have a family now - children - to consider. Your life is dangerous. I cannot become involved in anything that will endanger my children." Her voice had gone from warm and welcoming to cold and hard in an instant.

Until this moment, I hadn't realized just how many of my hopes had been pinned on Ceri and her help. I had been prepared for her to be angry at me, but not for her to refuse to help me at all. I thought of Ray and the danger that I had brought to Ceri's door without thinking. Just showing up here could place them in danger, and although I had been careful, it was possible someone had followed me.

Ceri was right.

"I should go," I said abruptly, fiddling in the depths of my bag for my car keys.

"Rachel, wait." Ceri laid a hand on my arm, forestalling me. "Tell me what you need and then we'll see."

I shook my head. "No, you're right. If someone even thinks that you helped me, you could be in danger."

Ceri's hand tightened around my wrist. "Rachel Morgan." Her voice was stern and demanding. "Tell me why you came here."

I flinched, thinking about the ruins that were supposed to have been in the abandoned warehouse. I hadn't had a chance to see them, but Glenn had said that they'd already shown them to Ceri with no success. Ceri had no reason to lie to Glenn, so there was no reason to ask her about them. On the other hand, there were questions that I suddenly wanted to know the answer to and Ceri could probably answer them for me.

I nudged a chair out from the kitchen table with a bump of my hip and sank down into it. Biting my lip, I looked up into her eyes.

"What happened to Ivy?" I spoke quietly.

For a moment, Ceri looked startled by my question, and then she sat down across from me.

"You mean, after you disappeared?"

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak again. It had been hard enough to get that first question out.

Ceri's knuckles whitened as her hands gripped the opposite elbows tightly.

"She was scared and desperate." She let out a short, harsh breath of air. "We all panicked when you went missing. Ivy, Jenks, and I were especially worried. We thought you might have done something to anger Al, and he might have - punished you."

Knowing Al as I did now, I wondered what Ceri had hesitated to say, what she knew him to be capable of, and yet, still hoped that I didn't.

"We spent the first forty-eight hours searching for you, in all of the places that we could think to look. That's when your brother got involved."

"Robbie?"

Since when had Robbie cared? Okay, that wasn't true. Robbie had always cared. That was the problem. He had never been willing to let me live my life the way I wanted. He had tried to protect me as best as he could, the only problem was that his ways of protecting me were often more like smothering me.

"What did Robbie do?" I asked, my voice croaking with emotion.

"He contacted the FIB and the I.S. to file a missing person's report. Glenn got assigned to the case. He volunteered, I think," Ceri said with a dismissive wave of her hand. "But he was determined to find out what had happened to you." She paused again. "Rachel, you have to understand. Ivy was very frightened; she was desperate to find out what happened to you. She wasn't quite - she wasn't herself."

Wasn't herself? What did that mean?

"When it looked like you wouldn't be found, Ivy lost control," Ceri said bluntly. "Jenks was the only one who could be around her, who she wouldn't try to attack. Finally, we were afraid that someone might seriously be hurt; we called Rynn Cormel."

My fingernails were biting into my palms so hard that I wondered distantly if they had drawn blood. My foot was jiggling uncontrollably, sending barely noticeable shivers through the whole table.

Ceri was looking at me directly. "If she'd already been dead, I think she would have walked out into the sun."

A small noise slipped out of me. My eyes burned, but I couldn't blink, couldn't look away, couldn't stop listening to what Ceri was saying. I had left. It was the only thing I could have done, wasn't it? If I had stayed, what would have happened? We would have tried to make it work, but in the end it couldn't have. It wouldn't have been an equal relationship. As much as she would have tried to make it work, Ivy would have had all of the power. One word and she could control me. I would have become a willing prisoner. It was my worst nightmare.

"Then it got worse." Ceri's words startled me out of my tangled thoughts. "Glenn got permission to search the church. There was blood - your blood - on Ivy's sheets."

My hand flew to cover the scar on my neck. With no vamp pheromones in the air, it was just another scar, a bump of raised skin under my fingers.

"We shared blood that night," I murmured, whether to myself or Ceri, I wasn't quite sure. I looked back up at her. "We had a blood balance. She didn't take anything I didn't offer."

Except that she had. I had trusted Ivy and she had gone too far. She had done more than just take my blood, she had bound me to her and made me her shadow. We hadn't discussed it and I couldn't live with it. What it was not, however, was illegal. Ivy and I were both consenting adults in a relationship.

Ceri shrugged. "Jenks told them that. We all did. Your mom cursed generations of Glenn's ancestors for idiots. It was quite impressive. Unfortunately it was the only substantial lead that his investigation came up with. Ivy was accused of murder."

"She was what?" I blurted out, my jaw dropping. "That's crazy. Ivy would never-"

"She almost ripped your throat out once." Ceri said sharply and then sighed. "Unfortunately, Nick Sparagmos was caught by the FIB right before this happened. He offered to testify to past actions, in exchange for a lesser sentence."

My head was spinning. This was all so insane. It didn't seem real.

"How did - I mean, she isn't in jail now," I said desperately.

"No," Ceri agreed. "No, I'm not sure what happened exactly. There was a very public trial. 'Witch Murdered By Her Rich Vamp Lover'. It was all over the papers. It dragged on for over a year. With her parents' lawyers, Ivy was finally acquitted, but she was still devastated. She was barely coping with it."

Ceri took a small sip of her tea, and looked at me with sympathy. It was worse than if she had hated me. She didn't know that I had left voluntarily, although by now she definitely had to suspect it. How she could still feel pity for me when Ivy was the one who had been through so much....

"Tell me," I said, knowing that I needed to hear the rest of it, even though I was pretty sure that I didn't want to.

"It wasn't a good idea for Ivy to be alone in the church, so her father convinced her to go home. Her parents had supported her through the whole thing, so when her mother suggested that she refocus her life on the duties that she owed to her bloodline, Ivy agreed. She had her son nine months later, providing her mother with another heir, in case something should happen to her."

"What changed? Did she get married?" I asked. I needed to know, because the Ivy that I had seen since I had come back hadn't been the broken, ruined woman that Ceri was describing to me.

"No, nothing like that. I'm not sure who fathered her child, but I don't think that was important to Ivy. It wasn't about finding someone to spend her life with. She wanted a child. That's all. And that's what changed. She had her son, Rachel," Ceri said, as if it were obvious. "It might have been to please her mother, initially, but she found that she truly loved him. At first, she focused on raising him, but gradually, she began to take an interest in other things again. She slowly began to take a greater share of activity in the Tamwood family business and now she runs most of it, with only minimal input from her mother."

It was too much information. I was on overload, and I didn't know how to process it all. Once I would have gone to Jenks or Ivy to complain about it or for them to distract me from it. Now I couldn't talk to either of them, and I was shaking again. Tears were burning behind my eyes and I knew that if I stayed sitting in Ceri's lovely kitchen for much longer, I would lose it completely, and I couldn't do that.

"I have to go," I said abruptly, standing up so quickly that my chair grated noisily against the floor. I barely heard Ceri's protests as I bolted for the door. I didn't slow down until I was back in my car, and that was only for long enough to jam the keys in the ignition and get it started again.

I had to get out of here.