Chapter 3

Maybe it was all the vampire pheromones in the air, or maybe it was that I had been awake for about 24 hours, and what 24 hours those had been, but when I lay my head down over my arms to rest for a few moments, sleep overcame me almost instantly. After the stress, the anxiety, the fear and… well, every other emotion I'd felt during Erica's confession, pure, dark and dreamless sleep turned out to be the sweetest blessing I could ask for. Floating in that velveteen haze, I could pretend for a moment that nothing had happened, that Ivy was okay, that Erica truly was a careless, petulant vampire, hell, I could even pretend that Jenks wasn't nearing the end of his life; all the things that had made my life miserable recently, none of those existed here.

What a relief…

I was so busy relishing that perfect nothingness that the feeling of fingers threading lightly through my hair went almost unnoticed. They were cold but soft, gentle, running through messy strands of my wild hair as easily as a fish through water. Remembering where and how I'd fallen asleep, I realized Ivy was taking advantage…

Whatever. I guess I can let her play with my hair a little. I definitely owe her that much. I thought, remembering my earlier promise to kiss her if she stayed awake, wondering idly if she would ever take me up on that. I didn't move, finding an odd enjoyment in her touch. It had been so long since Ivy had dared to touch me that even though I didn't want to give her false hope, I kept my eyes closed and pretended to be asleep, letting her little game go on. There was more comfort in that one tiny touch that I'd found in a lot of full-blown hugs.

Things had been so tense between us, ever since I'd given her a definitive "no" on the subject of our blood balance, that, even though she told me she just needed time to find her balance, I'd been worried we wouldn't be able to make things work. She'd spent the last months so afraid to show any kind of affection, afraid that I'd take it the wrong way…

But the worse was perhaps her renewed struggle with her bloodlust; where she once got home calmly hating herself after a blood encounter, she was now snappish and frustrated, downright angry even. I was worried something had shifted permanently in her after our auras had merged; I knew I was denying myself something I wanted by refusing to let her bite me, but I feared I was denying her something that she desperately needed.

It wasn't always terrible, of course; after a few hours she was always back to normal, or as normal as Ivy can be, but during that brief time, it was unbearable to be around her. During period, I unavoidably thought about reconsidering my decision not to let her bite me. I'd even whip up the courage to go to her, to try and talk about it, only to be pushed back by a glare so icy it could probably freeze a volcano over. Ivy always knew what I was thinking, and this was no different.

And she's beyond terrifying when she's angry.

I didn't want to rub it in, and I wanted to keep my head, so I gave her her space and waited for her to get over it, hoping she wouldn't simply up and leave. Some noble part of me almost hoped that, for her sake, she would; she would stand a better chance of getting over me if she didn't live with me, and until she did, there would be no happiness for her.

The rest of me, which felt horribly selfish at times, was content to wait and pretend nothing was wrong, enjoying too much the companionship of the sometimes-anal vampire once she got her wits back. It wasn't always hard grind, after all, or I think both of us would have snapped by now. She was still more open with me than anyone else, and her laughter was still one of the most beautiful sounds in the world. That I had a knack for bringing a smile to her was something in which I found a great deal of pride; forget demon magic, cracking up an abused, introverted vampire was a real challenge.

So yeah, I was enjoying Ivy's touch, even though it was now becoming a little too intimate for my taste. She had tucked my hair behind my ear and her fingers were now tracing the line of my jaw, moving slowly and steadily towards… my neck?

No. Come on, she wouldn't…

"Rache-el" Ivy's said in a sing-song voice just as her fingernails found the demon scar buried under my skin. A rush of sensation flooded through me as my eyes flew open. I jumped, trying groggily to get away from her, only to have her hand dart snake-quick to the back of my neck. It buried painfully in my hair in a restraining grip, holding me within arms length.

"Ivy, what the hell…" My scandalized exclamation died instantly as I gazed into Ivy's pure black, hunger filled eyes. There was barely anything else there, barely any recognition; these were the eyes of the perfect predator she was.

It's quite hard to look scary while wearing a paper robe, but a completely vamped out Ivy pulled it off nicely. I didn't know how or why it had happened, but my continued survival now depended on not moving a muscle and not showing any of the soul-stealing fear I felt. Whether I liked it or not, I'd had more than my fair share of practice in this situation. The rules had been branded into me by several brushes with death, and I knew them by heart, now.

"Ivy, please, calm down. Let me go. You know you don't want to do this." My voice was steady and, I hoped, soothing, despite the fear and the slowly ebbing, exquisite sensations she had pulled from me. I had to try and get through to her conscious self, the part of her from which her feelings for me derived from. I knew her hunger was shackled with love, and appealing to it was a sure way to talk her down.

It didn't work, though. Ivy tilted her head as in incomprehension, her unblinking eyes going slowly from my eyes to my neck, where I could feel my pulse pressing wildly against my skin. A cold, cruel smile spread her lips, making my heart stop.

Where her small, sharp canines once sprouted amongst her perfect white teeth was now a pair of longer, vastly more vicious-looking fangs. Ivy was not vamping out; her soul had not been drowned out by instinct and hunger. It was simply gone. She was dead and reborn.

Ivy was an undead. She was hungry. And I was breakfast.

Just as understanding hit me like a train in the face, she moved. I screamed in both pain and sheer terror as she brutally pulled me, one-handed, onto the hospital bed, angling my body so that I lay on my back across her lap. She immediately leaned over me, her dead eyes inches from me. Strands of her gold-tipped hair tickled my face as studied me intently, a glint of enjoyment lighting her face up as she breathed in the scent of my fear. Her exhale reverberated through the core of my being as my scar came fully alive, flaring much stronger than it ever had, causing sensations that rivalled actual blood ecstasy. The passionate moan that slipped past my lips seemed to amuse Ivy, who brought her fingers to my neck again.

Any more of this and she'll make me climax! I thought frantically as a wave of pleasure flowed from my over-stimulated scar to my groin. Using all of my willpower I wrenched my mind from that delicious, mind-numbing stupor and sent it quickly searching for a line.

In almost complete desperation I realized I was too deep underground. I couldn't find a single ounce of power to fend off the hungry vampire who was toying with me. I only had one hope left…

"JENKS!" I screamed, as loud as I could, but my voice was quickly smothered by Ivy's mouth. It wasn't really a kiss; more like she was crushing her lips to mine with bruising strength, but it caused her to moan in turn.

Where the hell is he? My lips already felt swollen and sore. I just barely managed to keep them shut as Ivy's tongue tried to worm its way in. My resistance made her own lips curl against mine.

"Scream for me, Rachel." Ivy purred against my mouth an instant before she grasped my lower lips between her teeth. In one, swift motion she shredded it, my blood flowing from the wound in a crimson stream. She lingered an instant to take a mouthful, then pulled away, her smile tinted red. My hands shot to my lip as soon as she left it. Her saliva had been the only thing that kept the intense pain at bay, and as soon as her mouth left mine, it started throbbing in agony. I just barely managed to stop myself from screaming, the blood in my mouth making me choke.

God, please, just let her kill me quickly. But Ivy, it seemed, wasn't done playing.

She brought her free wrist up to her mouth, her eyes never leaving mine, cold, cruel and unyielding. I watched in morbid fascination as her fangs buried deep within her own flesh, drawing the dark, dead blood from her veins. She held her bloodied wrist over my face, a new spark of… anticipation? in her eyes. Drops of the undead fluid fell on my bloodstained face, hotter than the blood that still flowed freely from my mouth.

"Drink."

The single, harsh word didn't come from Ivy. I managed to turn my head just enough to see Erica's petite form standing in the middle of the room. Her expression was one of pure hatred. Her eyes were as black as Ivy's, the whites red with tears that still flowed down her cheeks. Anger suited her even less than sorrow, but that wasn't the most horrible thing about this picture.

On her shoulder, a look of hard judgement on his face, stood Jenks.

I had to swallow the lump in my throat twice before I could speak, and even then it was in a badly shaking, very small voice. "Why? What is she doing?"

"She's making this whole mess right, you bitch! She died because of you! It's only fair you should give your own life in return! Now drink!"

Fear and pain had kept guilt away from my consciousness, but now that Ivy wasn't actively torturing me, it coated my soul more completely than the demon smut that stained it. My mind went blank and empty but for one thought:

Ivy is dead. She's UNDEAD! Because of me. It's my fault. Mine.

I don't recall ever feeling this miserable in my life. Not when Kisten died, not when I thought I'd been bound. Never.

"Drink. Become her scion. It's more honour than you deserve."

I glanced pleadingly at Jenks, finding no compassion in the grim set of his mouth or the narrowing of his eyes. I knew then that Erica was right. Being Ivy's scion was the fate I deserved for ruining her so thoroughly. She had believed I could save her soul, and instead of saving her, I had thrown her head first into her own version of hell.

I reached up, tentatively, my mind reeling at the thought of what I was about to do, for her wrist, the skin cold, smooth and soft as my fingers encircled it. Her arm looming over me came down without resistance; Ivy looked pleased, a vague smile on her lips that would have made her beautiful had she still been alive, but was chilling now that she wasn't.

"I'm so, so sorry, Ivy." I murmured as I brought the wound to my mouth, sealing it around the broken skin as I started pulling. Her blood tasted horrible, a mix of copper and tar, and it caused a searing pain going down. Swallowing live fire ants would probably have been more pleasant, yet as soon as the first mouthful made it all the way down, I couldn't have stopped to save my own soul. Power unlike anything I'd ever felt flowed from Ivy to me, making my body feel lighter, stronger. The world around me was quickly becoming clearer, as if I'd spent my whole life looking through a dirty window that had finally been cleaned.

My gaze came to rest on Ivy's face, her expression a mask of pure bliss, her breath escaping in tiny gasps of pleasure in time with my every greedy pull. Her eyes met mine, the darkly seductive smile coming to her lips showing off her long fangs. I tried to hold on as she pulled her wrist away from my mouth, but even my newfound strength was no match for hers. I knew what she would do now, and how it would seal my fate, yet as terrified as I was now that my mind caught up to my guilty conscience, my body was limp, nerveless.

What have I done? I thought, horrified, as Ivy's hand slipped beneath my head, her arm flexing to bring us eye-to-eye. I couldn't even offer a token resistance. Her bleeding arm snaked around my waist in a lover's embrace, bringing our bodies closer together. She lowered her mouth to my neck, her lips and teeth brushing teasingly over my sensitive skin, her tongue lapping up my blood. I surrendered my will totally to the torrent of pleasure from my scar this time, letting it drown out the pain, the guilt, the fear.

I knew I would enjoy this, sick thought though it was. With a little luck, Ivy might even loose control and kill me… Death at her hand seemed enviable next to what the rest of my life would be like.

The tip of her fangs came to rest lightly on my pulse. I closed my eyes as one final tear leaked down my cheek to mix with the blood that stained my face, and waited for my new life to begin…