“I felt my shoulders ease at her admission. She was going to do what she had to do, and I was going to do what I had to do. And Ivy? Ivy was going to go insane.”

“Can we get back to how we’re going to kill Nick? And what’s this about a dead body? You’d better start talking quick, Ivy, ’cause I’m not going to play hide-and-seek with a dead guy in my trunk. I did that in college, and I’m not going to do it again.” A smile quirked Ivy’s mouth. “Really?” she asked, and I flushed.”

“Ivy wanted to do something for me, and if she couldn’t give me a hug without her blood lust tainting it, then by God I would let her put that gunk under my eye.”

“I could have had him, but I had monologued. Damn it, I was not going to do that again.”

“Jenks’s gaze was even and calm, wise and even a bit sad. The wind ruffled his hair, and the sound of the pixies grew obvious. “No,” he said. “I don’t think you do.” I glared, and he added, “I think it would kill you quicker than going to see Piscary wearing gothic lace. I think managing to find a blood balance with Ivy is going to be the only way you’re going to survive. Besides…” He grinned impishly. “…no one but Ivy will put up with the things you need or the crap you dish out.”

“Ivy could have been a model. Hell, Ivy could be anything she wanted. Except happy. Ivy had issues.”

“Depressed, I gazed at the wall behind Ivy. Swell. I was going to have to look at a stuffed mink nailed to the wall all night.”