"If it's proved that the man she killed is HAPA, then no. That's not what I'm worried about." Ivy looked at my shoulder bag on the table, and I pulled it closer to get my keys for her. "Nina's in trouble," Ivy said as she caught the jingling keys. "Felix, too, and not because they killed a HAPA member. He severely misjudged his impact on her, and she doesn't have the ability to handle alone what he's been pumping into her the last couple of days. He can't simply leave anymore. She'd kill the first person who touched her the wrong way. The longer he's in her trying to give her control, the worse it gets." Ivy's eyes were haunted. "They're both severely unbalanced. I don't see how - "
Ivy's words broke off, and she looked at me, more grief in her eyes than I'd seen in a long time. "They aren't going to make it, are they?" I said, and Ivy closed her eyes as she shook her head. They were bright when they opened back up.
"Felix doesn't have a clue about what to do. Rachel, she's too good to die like that."
"You can help her," I said, and she dropped her head, her long hair hiding her face.
"I can," she said softly. "Rachel . . ."
Chest tight, I shook my head. Ivy had a huge need to give, to nurture. Some of it was her vampiric nature, but most was her heart. She grieved for her own lost innocence, reviling the monster that Piscary had made her into, unable to love without hurting what she most desired. She'd been getting better, but if she could help Nina, it might allow her to see the beauty in her own soul. "If you can help her, you should," I said, both scared for her and loving her for her sacrifices. "You know how to cope with the power and passion. I mean . . . if you want to."
She pulled her head up, refusing to look at me. "I was exactly like her once," she whispered. "It was so hard. I don't know if I can help her without becoming her again."
"I know you can," I said confidently. "You survived. Nina will, too, with your help."
"Yes, but . . ." She hesitated, her gaze finally coming to me. "I survived because I fell in love." With you was unspoken.
My heart hurt, but I kept smiling. This was a good thing. Ivy needed to feel good about herself, and this might finally prove to her that she deserved positive things in her life. "Go," I said, and she looked down at her hands.
"I'll be with Nina if you need me," she said, and I blinked in surprise as she bent down and gave me a chaste peck on the cheek, like you might see any two friends give each other in parting. In a swirl of vampire incense, she was gone, her boot heels click-clacking in the hall.
"Thank you," I whispered, touching my cheek. There hadn't been a twinge of reaction from my scar. I didn't know if that was a good thing or not. Demons couldn't be bound, so it stood to reason that I couldn't, either. Were the toxins finally wearing off, or had she truly let me go?
I sat where I was, listening to her speak to the Weres for a moment, and then the door shut, leaving only the Weres talking among themselves. My heart ached, but it was an old feeling, one now laced with pride in her. The revving of my car was a faint hint, and then even that faded, leaving the soft rumble of Weres talking and the rising scent of curing polymer.
The kitchen was a mess, as disorganized and jumbled as my thoughts because I hadn't cleaned anything while I spelled, as I usually did. Throat tight, I lurched to my feet. If I hustled, I could get this tidy in ten minutes. Sighing, I looked over the clutter. Maybe twenty.
From the front, I could hear the guys going in and out, bringing in more tools. I was glad Ivy was moving on. Really. I just wished I wasn't quite so alone.
One of the Weres yelled back, "Red or green, ma'am?"
"Green!" I shouted as I looked down at the open demon texts, my fingers cramping as they skated across the dark, perhaps blood-based print. I'd had a surprising amount of luck with finding a curse to thwart a memory charm. Demons apparently didn't like to forget. It was a communal curse. Say the words and pay the cost, and you were good to go. And since I'd gotten rid of the damn bracelet . . .
Was it easy, like a wish? Or was it using my resources to their fullest potential?
I didn't know anymore. But I did know that I didn't want to be ignorant and oblivious of what happened when all was said and done. The I.S. didn't have a problem using illegal memory charms, and I wanted to remember.
Running a finger under the print, I whispered the words, trying to practice the cadence before I actually tapped a line and did it. I hadn't accessed the collective since taking off the bracelet, and the last thing I needed was to do it wrong and attract attention. Certo idem sum qui semper fui. I am the same as I was before - or something like that. My Latin sucked.
Settling myself at the center counter, I took a deep breath and tapped the line out back in the garden. I couldn't help but close my eyes and smile as it spilled into me, seeming to bring with it the shiny, clean sensation of a thin, new ice. It was different every time, and yet the same. I let the line course through me, humming like the pulse of the universe. Thank you, Trent, I thought. Thank you for taking this away so I would know it for the gift it is.
Slowly my pleased smile faded and my eyes opened. Faint, at the edge of my awareness, something wasn't resonating right, not in this line, but somewhere. The tear, I thought, and my gut clenched. I'd fix it. Somehow.
I looked back down at the words, feeling guilty not for the tear, but that this curse wouldn't work on anyone but a demon. "Stop it," I whispered, head bowed over the print and the energies of the line building in me, demanding action. Guilt. Was I going to feel guilty about everything? I was a demon, damn it. I wouldn't even need this curse if I was a normal witch.
Head up, I shoved the guilt down deep. If the I.S. wiped Jenks's and Ivy's memories, I'd find a way to fix them. The important thing was that someone remembered.
"Certo idem sum qui semper fui," I said softly, shivering as I felt a sliver of my awareness dart from me, arrowing through the theoretical collective of whispering demons' thoughts, down to the dark annexes where no one went. I shivered, my fingers sliding over the textured paper as the sensation of my soul melting around a stored curse shook me. And then, like folding space, my splinter of awareness and my soul merged like water drops, bringing the curse within me forever.
"I accept the cost," I whispered, blinking fast as I felt the curse spread through me with the sensation of burning warmth, tingling through my skin and recoiling at the edges of my aura. It was done. I would never forget again.