Felix was here. The Free Vampires weren’t. And Nina was with Felix.
Ivy didn’t move when Dan gripped her arm, and the ragged tear in his flesh began to fill with blood. “Where is he?” he begged, his legs twisted at an odd angle. “I . . .” Confused, he looked at the vampires around him as if only now remembering. “Where is he?”
Ivy knelt, her katana within reach as she moved his hand off her and he moaned in pleasure. “Shhh,” she soothed, yanking a throw from a nearby couch and tucking it under his chin. “Go to sleep. Rest.”
“No,” he said petulantly. “I need.”
She nodded, her expression soft and caring. “I know. Go to sleep.”
Dan stared up at her, panting as she gently brushed the hair on his forehead, and I shuddered as he fell unconscious.
Ivy’s expression was tight with a hard anger when she rose, her grip white knuckled on her katana. “It’s not supposed to be like this,” she whispered, eyes black.
But it often was.
I followed her into the kitchen and the small elevator just off it that led to the lower rooms. Half the industrial ovens had been removed to make space for a big, comfortable table that could seat twenty people. Vampires were homebodies, keeping their “children” close and fostering a dependence that was attractive and felt safe. But it was a lie, and the danger usually came from within the same walls. “We’re taking the elevator?” I asked, though it was obvious.
Ivy hit the down button and the doors slid apart, the car having returned to the surface to rest. She strode inside, her katana in hand and her hair pulled into a ponytail as she put herself at the back of the lift. Arms crossed, she waited for me. The elevator looked awfully small.
“I’m taking the dumbwaiter,” Jenks said as he saw her black-eyed, tense state.
Seeing me balk, Ivy tried to find a less aggressive pose, and with my thoughts on finding David, I got in. Jenks hovered at the closing doors, darting away as they slid shut. “What’s your plan?” I said as the lift descended.
Ivy’s posture tightened. “Felix dies, Nina lives. That’s my plan.”
Yeah, I had a similar one. “You can’t kill him,” I said, knowing she wouldn’t like that.
“You don’t understand,” she almost snarled.
Angry, I made a fist and hit the stop button. “Don’t you dare tell me I don’t understand!” I whispered, getting in her face and backing her up a step. “Not three years ago I came over here looking for revenge after Piscary blood raped you. I let him live, and you will not kill Felix!”
Even if they’ve killed David? a tiny voice whispered, and I couldn’t answer it.
Her clenched jaw eased, and she dropped her eyes.
“Felix is the only undead vampire awake,” I said, backing off before she found her anger again. “We need to find out why and if that’s the only reason they’re interested in him.”
Ivy’s chin rose. “I’m here for Nina. I don’t care about Felix or Free Vampires.”
“If you kill him, Nina will spiral out of control.”
Ivy lurched forward to hit the button to make the lift move. “Nina is fine,” she lied through clenched teeth.
Heart pounding, I smacked the stop button again. “She is not fine,” I said, and then pity cooled my anger. “I’m sorry,” I said softly. “The only way Felix could take control of her like that is if Nina let him, which means she’s been allowing him access behind your back.” Head down, Ivy pulled away from me. “You said it yourself that she was doing better than you expected. Well, it’s because she’s been sipping the blood of the dog that bit her. She’s still tied to him.”
“Nina doesn’t need him!” she shouted.
My shoulders slumped. Hope died hard, and the lie was easier to bear. “Two steps forward,” I said softly, and Ivy’s jaw tightened again. One back, echoed in my thoughts. I knew Ivy was thinking it too. She’d been where Nina was now, and she balanced on the edge every day.
“If you kill him, she goes with him,” I said, and Ivy nodded, tears making her eyes blacker. “Probably at the wrong end of a gun. If we get her back, we can keep taking two steps forward until she can let go. She’s strong. She’ll make it.” God, I hoped she made it.
Ivy nodded, wiping her tears as if surprised to see them. “I won’t kill him.”
I could almost hear her unspoken “yet.” It was the acknowledgment I needed, and I pushed the button to continue. Ivy exhaled, and then the elevator dinged. My chest hurt. What the undead demanded of their children was hell. But at least she hadn’t been involved in the madness upstairs. There hadn’t been enough time.
“Stay behind me,” Ivy whispered, ghosting out, her balance perfect and every motion one of grace as she looked first to the ceiling and then to the sides. The large room seemed empty. She beckoned me forward, her gleaming katana dipping in a show of nervous tension. I edged to the door to look out and keep the elevator from closing.
Still holding her sword, Ivy flung a chrome and white leather chair to me. I lurched to catch it and wedge it between the doors. The elevator protested and whined, then went silent. Our access to the surface was open, but no one would be coming down that way.
Eyes scanning, I slowly explored the spacious room as Ivy padded from door to door, listening. Cormel had done little to change Piscary’s underground apartments: pillars, white carpet, high ceilings, fake windows with long curtains, and one of those huge vid screens that let him safely see the outside during the day. It was expansive, decorated sparsely but with taste, and my eyes went to the informal dining nook placed before the vid screen where I’d beaten Piscary into unconsciousness. Anger still lingered at what he’d done to Ivy, and the vampire was long dead, really dead. Ivy’s former lover, Skimmer, had killed him. I understood Ivy’s fear, her frustration. I’d loved Ivy. Still did. Letting go had been the right thing to do.
My hand went to the small of my back, and I pulled my splat gun. I reached out a sliver of awareness, touching a line. We weren’t too far underground. Piscary had liked his magic.
Ivy turned from the last pair of tall oak doors. “They’re not in this room,” she said, but it was obvious. My brow furrowed. Dan had said Felix had refused to leave. They were down here somewhere.
As if my thoughts had drawn him, Jenks hummed out of a hallway, looking out of place among the carpet and drapes. “Are you sure Piscary didn’t have a second way out of here?”