The Hollows Series Books 1-4. Kim Harrison

“There was so much blood. I guess I panicked. Sorry.” His gaze went to the hallway, and I wasn’t surprised when Ivy strode in with a blanket over one arm, a stack of pink towels under the other, and a pan of water in her hands.

      Unease overwhelmed my pain. I was still bleeding. “Ivy?” I quavered.

      “What?” she snapped as she set the towels and water on the coffee table and tucked the blanket around me as if I was a child.

      I swallowed hard, trying to get a good look at her eyes. “Nothing,” I said meekly as she straightened and backed away. Apart from being paler than usual, she looked okay. I didn’t think I could handle it if she vamped out on me. I was helpless.

      The blanket was warm about my chin, and the light from the lamp piercing. I shivered as she sat on the coffee table and pulled the water closer. I wondered at the color of the towels until I realized pink didn’t show old bloodstains.

      “Ivy?” My voice edged into panic as she reached for the cloth pressed against my neck.

      Her hand dropped, her perfect face going angry and insulted. “Don’t be stupid, Rachel. Let me look at your neck.”

      She reached out again, and I shirked back. “No!” I cried as I jerked away. The demon’s face flashed before me, mirroring hers. I hadn’t been able to fight it. It almost killed me. Remembered terror soared high, and I found the strength to sit up. The pain in my neck seemed to cry out for release, for a return to that exquisite mix of pain and craving the vamp saliva had offered. It shocked and frightened me. Ivy’s pupils swelled until her eyes went black.

      Nick stepped between us, covered in drying blood and smelling of spent fear. “Back off, Tamwood,” he threatened. “You’re not touching her if you’re pulling an aura.”

      “Relax, rat boy,” Ivy exclaimed. “I’m not pulling an aura, I’m as mad as all hell. And I wouldn’t bite Rachel right now even if she begged me. She stinks of infection.”

      That was more than I wanted to know. But her eyes were back to her normal brown as she wavered between anger and the need to be understood. I felt a flush of guilt. Ivy hadn’t pinned me to the wall and bit me. Ivy hadn’t taunted me, driving her teeth into me. Ivy hadn’t sucked at my neck, moaning in pleasure as she held me down while I struggled. Damn it. It. Hadn’t. Been. Her.

      Still, Nick stood between us. “It’s all right, Nick,” I said, my voice trembling. He knew why I was afraid. “It’s all right.” I looked past him to Ivy. “I’m sorry. Please—look at it?”

      Immediately Ivy seemed to lose her tension. She scooted closer with a quick, vindicated motion as Nick stepped out of the way. I let out my held breath as she gently worked at the soggy fabric. “Okay,” Ivy warned. “This may tug a little.”

      “Ouch!” I cried as it pulled when she lifted, then I bit my lip to keep from doing it again. Ivy set the ugly wad on the table beside her. My stomach twisted. It was black with moist blood, and I swear there were bits of flesh sticking to the inside of it. I shivered at the cold feel of air on my neck. There was the shivery sensation of a slow flow of blood.

      Ivy saw my face. “Get that out of here, will you?” she murmured, and Nick left with the soggy wad.

      Face blank, Ivy put a hand towel across my shoulder to catch the renewed oozing. I stared at the black TV as she soaked a washcloth and rung it out over the pan of water. Her touch was gentle as she began to dab at the outskirts of the damage and worked her way in. Still, I couldn’t help my occasional jerk. The threatened rim of black around my vision began to grow.

      “Rachel?” Her voice was soft, and my attention darted to her, worried at what I would find. But her face was carefully neutral as her eyes and fingers probed the bite marks on my neck. “What happened?” she asked. “Nick said something about a demon, but this looks like—”

      “It looks like a vampire bite,” I finished blandly. “It made itself look like a vampire and did that to me.” I took a shaky breath. “It made itself look like you, Ivy. I’m sorry if I’m a little flaky for a while. I know it wasn’t you. Just give me some slack until I can convince my unconscious you didn’t try to kill me, okay?”

      I met her eyes, feeling a pulse of shared fear as understanding flashed over her. For all accounts, I had been ravaged by a vampire. I had been initiated into a club that Ivy was trying to stay out of. Now we both were. I thought about what Nick had said concerning her wanting to make me her scion. I didn’t know what to believe.

      “Rachel, I—”

      “Later,” I said as Nick came back in. I felt ill, and the room was starting to go gray again. Matalina was with him along with two of her children lugging a pixy-sized bag. Nick knelt at my head. Hovering in the center of the room, Matalina silently took in the situation, then took the bag from her children and bundled them to the window. “Hush, hush,” I heard her whisper. “Go home. I know what I said, but I changed my mind.” Their protests carried a horrified fascination, and I wondered how bad I looked.

      “Rachel?” Matalina hovered right in front of me, moving back and forth until she found where my eyes were focusing. The room had gone alarmingly quiet, and I shivered. Matalina was such a pretty little thing. No wonder Jenks would do anything for her. “Try not to move, dear,” she said.

      A soft whir from the window pulled her up out of my sight. “Jenks,” the small pixy woman said in relief. “Where have you been?”

      “Me?” He dropped into my line of sight. “How did you get here before me?”

      “We took a direct bus,” Nick said sarcastically.

      Jenks’s face was weary and his shoulders were slumped. I felt a smile curve over me. “Is pretty pixy man too pooped to party?” I breathed, and he came so close I had to squint.

      “Ivy, you gotta do something,” he said, his eyes wide and worried. “I dusted her bites to slow the bleeding, but I’ve never seen anyone that was this white before and still alive.”

      “I am doing something,” she growled. “Get out of my way.”

      I felt the air shift as Matalina and Ivy bent close over me. I found the idea of a pixy and a vamp inspecting the bloody mess of my neck reassuring. Since infection was a turnoff, I ought to be safe. Ivy would know if it was life-threatening or not. And Nick, I thought, feeling a faint need to giggle. Nick would rescue me if Ivy lost control.

      Ivy’s fingers touched my neck and I yelped. She jerked back, and Matalina took to the air. “Rachel,” Ivy said worriedly. “I can’t fix this. Pixy dust will hold you together for only so long. You need to be stitched. We have to get you to Emergency.”

      “No hospital,” I said with a sigh. I had stopped shivering, and my stomach felt all funny. “Runners go in, but they don’t come out.” I gave in to my desire to giggle.

      “You would rather die on my couch?” Ivy said, and Nick began to pace behind her.

      “What is wrong with her?” Jenks whispered loudly.

      Ivy stood up and crossed her arms to look severe and pissy. A pissy vampire. Yeah, that was funny enough to laugh at, and I giggled again.

      “It’s the blood loss,” Ivy said impatiently. “She’s going to yo-yo between lucidity and irrationality until she stabilizes or passes out. I hate this part.”

      My good hand crept up to my neck, and Nick forced it back under the blanket.

      “I can’t fix this, Rachel!” Ivy exclaimed in frustration. “There’s too much damage.”

      “I’ll make something,” I said firmly. “I’m a witch.” I leaned to roll off the couch and get to my feet. I had to go to the kitchen. I had to cook dinner. I had to cook dinner for Ivy.

      “Rachel!” Nick shouted, trying to catch me. Ivy leapt forward, easing me into the cushions. I felt myself go white. The room spun. Wide-eyed,