is all mine, or it was. She is as mad as all hell I quit. She wants me to find a nice, living, high-blood vamp, settle down, and pop out as many kids as I can to be sure her living bloodline doesn’t die out. She’ll kill me if I croak before having a kid.”
I nodded as if I understood, but I didn’t. “I joined because of my dad,” I admitted. Embarrassed, I put my attention into my dinner. “He worked for the I.S. in the arcane division. He’d come home every morning with these wild stories of people he had helped or tagged. He made it sound so exciting.” I snickered. “He never mentioned the paperwork. When he died, I thought it would be a way to get close to him, sort of remember him by. Stupid, isn’t it?”
“No.”
I looked up, crunching through a carrot. “I had to do something. I spent a year watching my mother fall off her rocker. She isn’t crazy, but it’s like she doesn’t want to believe he’s gone. You can’t talk to her without her saying something like, ‘I made banana pudding today; it was your father’s favorite.’ She knows he’s dead, but she can’t let him go.”
Ivy was staring out the black kitchen window and into a memory. “My dad’s like that. He spends all his time keeping my mother going. I hate it.”
My chewing slowed. Not many vamps could afford to remain alive after death. The elaborate sunlight precautions and liability insurance alone was enough to put most families on the street. Not to mention the continuous supply of fresh blood.
“I hardly ever see him,” she added, her voice a whisper. “I don’t understand it, Rachel. He has his entire life left, but he won’t let her get the blood she needs from anyone else. If he’s not with her, he’s passed out on the floor from blood loss. Keeping her from dying completely is killing him. One person alone can’t support a dead vampire. They both know that.”
The conversation had taken an uncomfortable turn, but I couldn’t just leave. “Maybe he’s doing it because he loves her?” I offered slowly.
Ivy frowned. “What kind of love is that?” She stood, her long legs unfolding in a slow graceful movement. Cardboard box in hand, she vanished into the hall.
The sudden silence hammered on my ears. I stared at her empty chair in surprise. She walked out. How could she just walk out? We were talking. The conversation was too interesting to drop, so I slid from the table and followed her into the living room with my dinner.
She had collapsed into one of the gray suede chairs, sprawled out in a look of total unconcern, with her head on one of the thick arms and her feet dangling over the other. I hesitated in the doorway, taken aback at the picture she made. Like a lioness in her den, satiated from the kill. Well, I thought, she is a vampire. What did I expect her to look like?
Reminding myself that she wasn’t a practicing vamp and that I had nothing to worry about, I cautiously settled in the chair across from her, the coffee table between us. Only one of the table lamps was on, and the edges of the room were indistinct and lost in shadow. The lights from her electronic equipment glowed. “So, joining the I.S. was your dad’s idea?” I prompted.
Ivy had set her little white cardboard box atop her stomach. Not meeting my gaze, she lay on her back and indolently ate a bamboo shoot, looking at the ceiling as she chewed. “It was my mother’s idea, originally. She wanted me to be in management.” Ivy took another bite. “I was supposed to stay nice and safe. She thought it would be good for me to work on my people skills.” She shrugged. “I wanted to be a runner.”
I kicked off my slippers and tucked my feet under me. Curled up around my take-out box, I flicked a glance at Ivy as she slowly pulled her chopsticks out from between her lips. Most of the upper management in the I.S. were undead. I always thought it was because the job was easier if you didn’t have a soul.
“It wasn’t as if
I nodded as if I understood, but I didn’t. “I joined because of my dad,” I admitted. Embarrassed, I put my attention into my dinner. “He worked for the I.S. in the arcane division. He’d come home every morning with these wild stories of people he had helped or tagged. He made it sound so exciting.” I snickered. “He never mentioned the paperwork. When he died, I thought it would be a way to get close to him, sort of remember him by. Stupid, isn’t it?”
“No.”
I looked up, crunching through a carrot. “I had to do something. I spent a year watching my mother fall off her rocker. She isn’t crazy, but it’s like she doesn’t want to believe he’s gone. You can’t talk to her without her saying something like, ‘I made banana pudding today; it was your father’s favorite.’ She knows he’s dead, but she can’t let him go.”
Ivy was staring out the black kitchen window and into a memory. “My dad’s like that. He spends all his time keeping my mother going. I hate it.”
My chewing slowed. Not many vamps could afford to remain alive after death. The elaborate sunlight precautions and liability insurance alone was enough to put most families on the street. Not to mention the continuous supply of fresh blood.
“I hardly ever see him,” she added, her voice a whisper. “I don’t understand it, Rachel. He has his entire life left, but he won’t let her get the blood she needs from anyone else. If he’s not with her, he’s passed out on the floor from blood loss. Keeping her from dying completely is killing him. One person alone can’t support a dead vampire. They both know that.”
The conversation had taken an uncomfortable turn, but I couldn’t just leave. “Maybe he’s doing it because he loves her?” I offered slowly.
Ivy frowned. “What kind of love is that?” She stood, her long legs unfolding in a slow graceful movement. Cardboard box in hand, she vanished into the hall.
The sudden silence hammered on my ears. I stared at her empty chair in surprise. She walked out. How could she just walk out? We were talking. The conversation was too interesting to drop, so I slid from the table and followed her into the living room with my dinner.
She had collapsed into one of the gray suede chairs, sprawled out in a look of total unconcern, with her head on one of the thick arms and her feet dangling over the other. I hesitated in the doorway, taken aback at the picture she made. Like a lioness in her den, satiated from the kill. Well, I thought, she is a vampire. What did I expect her to look like?
Reminding myself that she wasn’t a practicing vamp and that I had nothing to worry about, I cautiously settled in the chair across from her, the coffee table between us. Only one of the table lamps was on, and the edges of the room were indistinct and lost in shadow. The lights from her electronic equipment glowed. “So, joining the I.S. was your dad’s idea?” I prompted.
Ivy had set her little white cardboard box atop her stomach. Not meeting my gaze, she lay on her back and indolently ate a bamboo shoot, looking at the ceiling as she chewed. “It was my mother’s idea, originally. She wanted me to be in management.” Ivy took another bite. “I was supposed to stay nice and safe. She thought it would be good for me to work on my people skills.” She shrugged. “I wanted to be a runner.”
I kicked off my slippers and tucked my feet under me. Curled up around my take-out box, I flicked a glance at Ivy as she slowly pulled her chopsticks out from between her lips. Most of the upper management in the I.S. were undead. I always thought it was because the job was easier if you didn’t have a soul.
“It wasn’t as if
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