seriousfic (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
seriousfic) wrote2009-01-09 11:38 am
seriousfic) wrote2009-01-09 11:38 am
The Hollows fic: Scion (Rachel/Ivy)
Title: Scion
Fandom: The Hollows
Rating: R
Word Count: 3,549
Characters/Pairings: Rachel/Ivy, mention of Rachel/Nick
Timeline: Takes place shortly after The Good, The Bad, And The Undead.
Summary: Rachel will do anything to free Ivy from Piscary’s control. Even become her scion.
I turned the facts over in my head like it was a particularly difficult case, even though I had already solved it. A few weeks ago, I had taken a case to find out who was killing the city’s ley line witches. When I got too close to the truth, the murderer sent me a message. Piscary, vampire overlord of the Hollows, got to me through Ivy. His niece. My partner. She was a non-practicing vamp, the kind that valued their humanity above the addictive rush of blood. Or maybe she was just saving her appetite for me. Our friendship was a weird one.
Piscary did worse than rape her. He forcefed her blood and made her his scion. Now he was in her head 24/7, feeling what she felt, whispering in her ear, raping her all over again. And it was my fault.
Ivy was supposed to rein me in for uncle Piscary, do to me what he did to her. But she loved me too much to take away my independence. And she’d paid the price for resisting temptation.
I hadn’t known any of this when I brought Piscary in, but I knew enough to give him one for Ivy. If I had the whole story, I would’ve put a stake through his dead heart and repaid Ivy the favor. But I was too squeamish. And now my friend was paying my debt, all over again.
Only this time, I could do something about it.
I finished updating my will and cooking my charms. If worst came to worst, I’d be needing them. Actually, if worst came to worst, I’d be either dead or Ivy’s mindless plaything. But I could live/not live with that.
Foregoing perfume, I put on some of Ivy’s necklaces. A choker, mostly, lace and collar. Double jeopardy. Allowing our scents to mingle was telling her she owned me, and neckware was the vamp equivalent of edible underwear. But I couldn’t take any chances.
I walked into the super-kitchen, where Ivy was trying another species of animal blood to satisfy her craving. It worked better than people food, but I heard it tasted terrible.
“Choke on it, you bastard,” she said, and I realized she was in contact with Piscary.
I kept downwind of her for now. “I talked to Kisten today.”
Ivy wasn’t in the mood for chitchat. Probably because I’d let myself feel things with Kisten that I hadn’t with her. And I’d had my official boyfriend bite me. Yes, I’d pretty much fucked Ivy as hard as possible without actually fucking her.
I took a few steps, putting me in the path of the AC. My scent—our scent—hit her like an electric shock. “He says he’s thinking of taking a scion.”
She slowly, carefully, licked every speck of blood from her lips and teeth and fangs. I had a hunch blood, any blood, had started tasting nutrageous. “Good for him.” She got up and walked out of the room.
That was vamp for ‘don’t be in the same room as me unless you want two more orifices.’ I followed her. Hunted her. The irony wasn’t lost on me.
She stopped in the sanctuary, where we’d sparred before she’d started drinking again. It was here she’d come closest to biting me, calling my bluff on my heterosexuality and revulsion of vamps. The final score was too close to call.
“Kisten said he could take a scion now that he wasn’t Piscary’s anymore. Masters can’t be scions. If you had one, you wouldn’t have to put up with Piscary anymore.”
Hands spread on the wall and back rigid, I saw her head lower. Her breath echoed. Her hips began to sway to an unheard tattoo; it took me a moment to realize it was my heartbeat. “Do you realize what you’re talking about?”
I nodded. I wasn’t scared. That surprised me. “You’d drink, but only from me. As much or as little as we agree.”
“I’d have to take a lot,” she cried, a thrill slipping in on the last word. “To get your taste. If I can’t control myself…”
“I trust you.”
“It’s too risky. You could die!”
“Dying for you wouldn’t be like dying at all.” I tugged on my choker. I’d laced it pretty tight. “It’s not a sex thing, if that helps. Just think of it as me donating a kidney.”
She was quiet for a long time. Then: “Draw a circle.”
“What?”
“It’ll keep Piscary out.” She staggered as if hit by a sudden migraine. “He wants to feel it too but I won’t let him. He never gets to know what you taste like.”
It didn’t take long to draw a circle, it just felt that way with Ivy breathing down my throat. Not even an euphemism. She kept sniffing me and bouncing on her heels like a kid on Christmas Eve. Every time my hair fell in front of my shoulders, she would brush it out of the way and play with it, just short of purring. By the time I’d finished, Ivy had done up my hair in an elaborate braid that didn’t let a single follicle touch my neck.
“It’s done,” I told her.
Ivy peeked down my choker by tugging it out with one finger. “Now cut him off.”
Closing my eyes, I looked into the Ever-After. Piscary’s link trailed from Ivy like blood from her fading scars. I pumped enough power into my circle to scissor through it, but the two halves kept trying to reconnect like mating worms. They flailed against the circle hard enough to shake the Ever-After with tremors.
“Okay, let’s get this over with.”
“Rachel, Rachel, Rachel.” She traced a finger across my cheeks, dragging it over my lips in a manner both familiar and chiding. She nicked my chin and licked it quickly. Her eyes radiated darkness like photo-negative klieg lights. “Where’s your sense of romance?”
“This isn’t romance, this is business.” My hand flew to my choker but she grabbed my wrist.
“If this is business, I’d hate to think what that makes you.”
“I’m your friend.”
“A friend who offers substantial benefits.” She looked down at my hand as if noticing it for the first time. I’d driven my nails into my palm so hard that I’d almost drawn—damnit.
“Allow me.” She ran her fingernail up and down my choker, producing an intoxicating sound to ring in my ears. “This will hurt, you understand.”
“I’ve had some experience.”
“Not like this. I’ll have to go very deep.” She paused, guiltily, breaking from her silky gray voice. “You may want to get a tarp.”
“Jenks is going to clean the place anyway.”
“So I don’t lick it up,” she finished. Ivy pulled away from me, forcing her eyes to brown. “You may also want towels on hand. Whatever else makes you feel comfortable.”
Suddenly I realized she was giving me a chance to fetch my charms. I told myself that having protection was about her feeling comfortable she couldn’t hurt me. But… a fucking tarp?
I came back to find Ivy sprawled across the circumference of the circle, her belt undone and her fly down.
“Have you been… touching?”
“No,” she lied. If I’d had a crimeboss uncle in my head, feeling what I felt for weeks, I suppose I would’ve had some pent-up feelings too. So, I let it lie.
She didn’t do up her pants as I spread the tarp under her. They stayed up seemingly by force of will, but riding low enough for me to see her damp panties. It was hard not to look, really. I’d done that to her.
“Would you like to lie down?” she asked considerately. “You might fall. Or I could hold you up, but some see that as… intimate.”
“I’ll stand on my own two feet, thanks.”
“I thought you would.” She smiled as the sun set in her eyes. “Don’t hold still.”
“Why?”
“I don’t like it when they hold still.”
I didn’t roll my eyes. “So what do you want me to do with my hands?”
She took them in hers like she was about to start a séance. Her hair tickled my cheek as she leaned in, nudging my head to the side until I bared my throat. I can’t describe how she smelled, but it was a predator smell, a frightening smell. The sound of her gnawing on my choker was resoundingly loud.
“I’ll give you some time to get used to it,” she whispered in my ear. “It gets very intense.”
“I’d rather have it over with.”
“No. You don’t.” She went in close enough to kiss my choker and now I could feel her exhale race down my neck. “It’s okay to squeeze my hands. You won’t hurt me.”
“Good to know.” I practically threw myself against her. “Now take a bite before I get cold.”
Her lips wetly slid off my choker and up to my ear. “It’ll hurt less if you let me make it feel good.” She smiled, baring her fangs, and I got a hot flash of what feeling good would entail.
“Do you need some dirty talk to get going or what? I’m fortified with essential vitamin. Low cholesterol. High in fiber. Part of a complete balanced breakfast.” I rubbed my thumb over her pulse in a way I knew drove me crazy. “Tastes great, less filling.”
“You’re so much more than food, Rachel. You’re a feast. The way you look, the way you sound…” She shuddered, eyes closed in sheer ecstasy at my presence, my willingness. “Nine. Course. Meal.”
“Don’t play with your food.”
She ripped away the choker so fast I barely even felt it. Finally, we were skin to skin, her teeth chilling on my neck as her breathing went deep. Her tongue came out between them and tasted my sweat. “Thank you so much, Rachel. So much.”
She bit me.
I thought it would hurt and it did. It hurt like nothing else. But it was a clean hurt, burning away all the aches and pains of my much-abused body. All of a sudden the pain faded and I felt short of breath, wrung out. I was floating higher and higher, part of me knew it was just the blood loss, and the pain of her fangs was the only thing tethering me. But I wouldn’t have minded floating forever.
Ivy bit down harder, driving her fangs deeper into me, and what I could feel of my legs went weak. I know it sounds like an orgasm, and it almost was, but it wasn’t. Instead of tensing up, my entire body relaxed to wait for the electric pulse of her drinking life from me. My arms were limp at my side, still tingling from her touch like they’d fallen asleep. Her hands were on me, cradling my head and lower back, and—oh! My blood spilled down my shoulder and it was hot, but in a good way, like a warm shower. No wonder Ivy loved this stuff! It even felt great.
And now Ivy had moved from making little wanting noises to making deep, satiated sounds as she lowered me to the ground. And finally the frantic gurgling of her drinking dissolved into a final, orgasmic moan. Her teeth left me empty, alone, and suddenly I could feel my clothes painfully chafing me. I pulled at them, but I was too weak. She had anticipated my need and undressed me, bringing me the release of cool air on my skin. But she left my itchy underwear on, damn her!
“Take more,” I begged her. “I have more.”
“And I have enough.” She sounded ashamed. Ivy pressed a towel to my wound and it hurt like a brand. I screamed myself hoarse; not hard when you were as short on blood as I was.
“Shh, shh.” She eyed my demon scar like a kid would candy, but shied away from it as she toweled me off with cold water. As soon as my breathing had returned to normal, she licked her fingers clean.
“Are you feeling okay?” Ivy asked. “Do you need a blanket?”
“I need you,” I blurted out before I got a hold of myself. ”I mean, how’s Piscary?”
After taking several deep breaths, she stepped out of the circle. And smiled like a death’s row inmate granted a reprieve. “No fucking idea!” She jumped down on the tarp next to me, but quickly restrained herself to just lying beside me. “Do you want me to take you to bed now? I mean…”
“I know what you mean. I’ve never felt so awake. I want to do something!”
“That’s your mind talking. Your body is very weak. I should bake you something.”
“Cookies. You eat sugar cookies after giving blood.”
“And Vitamin B12. Orange juice.”
“You don’t drink OJ with cookies, silly. You drink milk.”
“Milk, then orange juice. It’ll be a three-course meal.”
“I know what I want for dessert.” Marshalling my strength, I set my hand on her thigh. Mmmmm. I could feel my blood thrumming under her veins.
Ivy looked crestfallen, but she felt excited, electric. “My saliva contains an aphrodisiac. That’s what’s talking, not you.”
“I wanna feel your teeth… lower.” I dug my nails into her inner thigh. God, if she’d wanted my blood half as much as I wanted her, I’d put her through the wringer.
“Rachel, no. You yourself said…”
“I could bite you first.” I dragged my claws up her thigh. “Would you like that?”
She grabbed my arms and forcibly folded them in my lap. “I’m putting you to bed now.”
I laughed. “The floor’s fine with me, but fine, be classy!”
She picked me up and I growled in frustration as she kept me carefully aloft from the good bits. The only time I was even below her head was when she set me down in bed.
“Would you like to see Jenks?” Ivy asked. “Or I could call Nick, he’d love to see you…”
“I want you to put your tongue between my thighs, sucking me dry.”
“I’ve created a monster.” She pulled the sheets up to my chin, neatly tucking them in around my bandages. “Jenks, Rachel wants to see you!”
“Rache, Rache!” the little pixy careened into the room, his wings orange with concern. “Are you alright?! I heard shouting but the missus wouldn’t let me in! I don’t know what Ivy has on her! Are you alright!?”
“I’m fine,” except for this Ivy-shaped absence between my legs. “Jenks, could you leave me and Ivy alone for a few… hours?”
“No, he can’t!” Ivy answered quickly. “I’ll be in the kitchen.” She disappeared, she moved so fast.
“Huh,” Jenks said. “What’s with her?”
“She won’t give me the good fucking I deserve,” I muttered bitterly.
“What was that?”
“I said she bit me.”
“WHAT!?” Jenks’ wings exploded into a starburst of motion. “That low-down, dirty, no-good—“
“I asked her to.”
“WHAT!?”
“Stop that.” I took off my undies. With only Ivy’s sheets touching me (thank God they had that predator smell), I finally stopped itching altogether. “It was the only way to get her out from under that bastard Piscary’s thumb.”
“And now you’re under Ivy’s thumb!”
A sudden fantasy involving me, Ivy, and fingers (including, but not limited to, her thumb) made me moan out loud. “I had no idea what I was missing, Jenks. She made me feel so safe…”
“You’re not in love with you. You’re like one of those saps who got zapped by a love rap.”
“Shut up and let me enjoy it. I haven’t been this well-laid in a while.” I chuckled. “And here I thought the only thing well-laid about Ivy was her plans.”
Jenks slapped his forehead. “Why do you bigs get so stupid after sex?”
“That wasn’t sex, Jenks. That was foreplay.”
***
Ivy spent pretty much the rest of the day in the kitchen. She threw up the whole neighborhood between us, having Keasley check me over, somehow luring Nick over (just long enough for me to cut the cord), even inviting my mom by for tea. Super-orgasms or not, it would take me a while to forgive having daydreams of ripping Ivy’s clothes off while the three of us discussed small businesses. But finally, night fell and we were alone.
“I’ll take the couch,” she said, I’d never seen her robe done up so tightly. Her belt was tied with a Gordian knot. “The venom should have worn off by now, but I’m not taking any chances with you.”
“You’re a runner. Risk is our business.” I rubbed the bed next to me. “I can’t go all night without you. Where does a scion sleep anyway?”
“At the foot of its master’s bed. Like a dog.”
“Okay, we’ll skip that part.”
“Rachel, I know how good this feels. But it isn’t what you really want.”
“Or maybe you were right all along and it took that bite for me to see that I really—“
Her hand shot up. “Don’t! In the morning, we’ll have to go back to normal. And it’ll be even harder if I hear you say what I’ve been dreaming of you saying since I first laid eyes on you. Go to sleep, little girl. I love you too much to wake you.”
I bit my lip. The possibility she was right was disturbing; knowing my friend was so self-loathing she would rather be unhappy than with me was also disturbing, but fuck, I’m selfish. I couldn’t take the thought of not being in control, to the extent I’m ever in control. Even as a rodent, I had my mind. Being around Ivy, I could lose even that. But, damnit, she made me happy and I made her happy. That was all that mattered.
“So, tomorrow morning.” I looked straight at her. “You want to go out for donuts?”
“You never give up, do you?” She’d let a little fondness creep into her voice.
“If it was the venom, then it’ll be as friends. If not, it’ll be as something more.”
Ivy nodded after a long pause. “Okay. But no funny business. I gave you that dating guide for a reason.”
“I’m pretty sure it’s for what happened this afternoon.”
Her eyes went just a touch black at the memory, knees wobbling like she’d just gone to the happy place. Yup, still got it. “You, uh…” She wiped her hands on her pants. “Tasted very good. Thank you.”
I got what she was trying to say. No scioning required. “I’m sure what I’m feeling is real. I really hope it is.”
“Me too.” She pulled the down comforter over my sheets and tucked me in. I’d never felt so comfortable. “Either way, it won’t change how I feel about you.” She lingered over my face, so damn lovely it hurt. I licked my lips, stopped. I moved up to kiss her and she reared up like I was radioactive.
“Ivy, even if it is venom, I’ll grant you one little kiss.”
“I shouldn’t.”
“Oh, like that’s ever stopped me? I’m your scion, you have to do what I say.”
“That’s not how it works.”
“It is now.” I pulled her to me and kissed her until her eyes were all but black. She left to take a cold shower or drink cow’s blood or whatever.
I thought at least part of the nymphomaniac thing, the part that wasn’t strictly being in a loveless relationship and the sex life of a possible lesbian in denial (I still hadn’t given up on being bisexual. My mom would be crushed if she were entirely cheated out of little Morgans running around), had been Ivy’s venom. But we both knew there was something else there. Ivy was a smart cookie; she wouldn’t have stuck by me all this time unless she knew I was interested. Smelled it on me.
But over the day, as the Playwitch urges had died down, I’d started thinking of Ivy in a warm, fuzzy, Hallmark Channel way. Taking her home to meet Ma. Going to see sappy movies together. Taking down Trent together. All the times she’d protected me, been there for me, times that I hadn’t noticed. It felt good to acknowledge them, it felt like I was breathing in pure mountain air after being in the city for far too long.
One night’s sleep and we could be together. Romantically. Emotionally. Sexually, hoo boy, couldn’t forget sexually. I was so excited I couldn’t sleep, like it was Christmas morning. I felt a good, clean love for Ivy well up in me. Okay, I still wanted her to shag me rotten, but I also wanted to cuddle and get married in a big church. It wasn’t venom or pheromones or anything but good old-fashioned American love.
The door creaked open. Morning had come as I’d thought about our life together. Ivy stood in the doorway, clearly braced for disappointment. I’d disappointed her so much. Not this time.
“Ivy Tamwood, I love you.”
I’m pretty sure Ivy has the prettiest smile on Earth. But then, I’m her scion. You can hardly expect me to be impartial.
Fandom: The Hollows
Rating: R
Word Count: 3,549
Characters/Pairings: Rachel/Ivy, mention of Rachel/Nick
Timeline: Takes place shortly after The Good, The Bad, And The Undead.
Summary: Rachel will do anything to free Ivy from Piscary’s control. Even become her scion.
I turned the facts over in my head like it was a particularly difficult case, even though I had already solved it. A few weeks ago, I had taken a case to find out who was killing the city’s ley line witches. When I got too close to the truth, the murderer sent me a message. Piscary, vampire overlord of the Hollows, got to me through Ivy. His niece. My partner. She was a non-practicing vamp, the kind that valued their humanity above the addictive rush of blood. Or maybe she was just saving her appetite for me. Our friendship was a weird one.
Piscary did worse than rape her. He forcefed her blood and made her his scion. Now he was in her head 24/7, feeling what she felt, whispering in her ear, raping her all over again. And it was my fault.
Ivy was supposed to rein me in for uncle Piscary, do to me what he did to her. But she loved me too much to take away my independence. And she’d paid the price for resisting temptation.
I hadn’t known any of this when I brought Piscary in, but I knew enough to give him one for Ivy. If I had the whole story, I would’ve put a stake through his dead heart and repaid Ivy the favor. But I was too squeamish. And now my friend was paying my debt, all over again.
Only this time, I could do something about it.
I finished updating my will and cooking my charms. If worst came to worst, I’d be needing them. Actually, if worst came to worst, I’d be either dead or Ivy’s mindless plaything. But I could live/not live with that.
Foregoing perfume, I put on some of Ivy’s necklaces. A choker, mostly, lace and collar. Double jeopardy. Allowing our scents to mingle was telling her she owned me, and neckware was the vamp equivalent of edible underwear. But I couldn’t take any chances.
I walked into the super-kitchen, where Ivy was trying another species of animal blood to satisfy her craving. It worked better than people food, but I heard it tasted terrible.
“Choke on it, you bastard,” she said, and I realized she was in contact with Piscary.
I kept downwind of her for now. “I talked to Kisten today.”
Ivy wasn’t in the mood for chitchat. Probably because I’d let myself feel things with Kisten that I hadn’t with her. And I’d had my official boyfriend bite me. Yes, I’d pretty much fucked Ivy as hard as possible without actually fucking her.
I took a few steps, putting me in the path of the AC. My scent—our scent—hit her like an electric shock. “He says he’s thinking of taking a scion.”
She slowly, carefully, licked every speck of blood from her lips and teeth and fangs. I had a hunch blood, any blood, had started tasting nutrageous. “Good for him.” She got up and walked out of the room.
That was vamp for ‘don’t be in the same room as me unless you want two more orifices.’ I followed her. Hunted her. The irony wasn’t lost on me.
She stopped in the sanctuary, where we’d sparred before she’d started drinking again. It was here she’d come closest to biting me, calling my bluff on my heterosexuality and revulsion of vamps. The final score was too close to call.
“Kisten said he could take a scion now that he wasn’t Piscary’s anymore. Masters can’t be scions. If you had one, you wouldn’t have to put up with Piscary anymore.”
Hands spread on the wall and back rigid, I saw her head lower. Her breath echoed. Her hips began to sway to an unheard tattoo; it took me a moment to realize it was my heartbeat. “Do you realize what you’re talking about?”
I nodded. I wasn’t scared. That surprised me. “You’d drink, but only from me. As much or as little as we agree.”
“I’d have to take a lot,” she cried, a thrill slipping in on the last word. “To get your taste. If I can’t control myself…”
“I trust you.”
“It’s too risky. You could die!”
“Dying for you wouldn’t be like dying at all.” I tugged on my choker. I’d laced it pretty tight. “It’s not a sex thing, if that helps. Just think of it as me donating a kidney.”
She was quiet for a long time. Then: “Draw a circle.”
“What?”
“It’ll keep Piscary out.” She staggered as if hit by a sudden migraine. “He wants to feel it too but I won’t let him. He never gets to know what you taste like.”
It didn’t take long to draw a circle, it just felt that way with Ivy breathing down my throat. Not even an euphemism. She kept sniffing me and bouncing on her heels like a kid on Christmas Eve. Every time my hair fell in front of my shoulders, she would brush it out of the way and play with it, just short of purring. By the time I’d finished, Ivy had done up my hair in an elaborate braid that didn’t let a single follicle touch my neck.
“It’s done,” I told her.
Ivy peeked down my choker by tugging it out with one finger. “Now cut him off.”
Closing my eyes, I looked into the Ever-After. Piscary’s link trailed from Ivy like blood from her fading scars. I pumped enough power into my circle to scissor through it, but the two halves kept trying to reconnect like mating worms. They flailed against the circle hard enough to shake the Ever-After with tremors.
“Okay, let’s get this over with.”
“Rachel, Rachel, Rachel.” She traced a finger across my cheeks, dragging it over my lips in a manner both familiar and chiding. She nicked my chin and licked it quickly. Her eyes radiated darkness like photo-negative klieg lights. “Where’s your sense of romance?”
“This isn’t romance, this is business.” My hand flew to my choker but she grabbed my wrist.
“If this is business, I’d hate to think what that makes you.”
“I’m your friend.”
“A friend who offers substantial benefits.” She looked down at my hand as if noticing it for the first time. I’d driven my nails into my palm so hard that I’d almost drawn—damnit.
“Allow me.” She ran her fingernail up and down my choker, producing an intoxicating sound to ring in my ears. “This will hurt, you understand.”
“I’ve had some experience.”
“Not like this. I’ll have to go very deep.” She paused, guiltily, breaking from her silky gray voice. “You may want to get a tarp.”
“Jenks is going to clean the place anyway.”
“So I don’t lick it up,” she finished. Ivy pulled away from me, forcing her eyes to brown. “You may also want towels on hand. Whatever else makes you feel comfortable.”
Suddenly I realized she was giving me a chance to fetch my charms. I told myself that having protection was about her feeling comfortable she couldn’t hurt me. But… a fucking tarp?
I came back to find Ivy sprawled across the circumference of the circle, her belt undone and her fly down.
“Have you been… touching?”
“No,” she lied. If I’d had a crimeboss uncle in my head, feeling what I felt for weeks, I suppose I would’ve had some pent-up feelings too. So, I let it lie.
She didn’t do up her pants as I spread the tarp under her. They stayed up seemingly by force of will, but riding low enough for me to see her damp panties. It was hard not to look, really. I’d done that to her.
“Would you like to lie down?” she asked considerately. “You might fall. Or I could hold you up, but some see that as… intimate.”
“I’ll stand on my own two feet, thanks.”
“I thought you would.” She smiled as the sun set in her eyes. “Don’t hold still.”
“Why?”
“I don’t like it when they hold still.”
I didn’t roll my eyes. “So what do you want me to do with my hands?”
She took them in hers like she was about to start a séance. Her hair tickled my cheek as she leaned in, nudging my head to the side until I bared my throat. I can’t describe how she smelled, but it was a predator smell, a frightening smell. The sound of her gnawing on my choker was resoundingly loud.
“I’ll give you some time to get used to it,” she whispered in my ear. “It gets very intense.”
“I’d rather have it over with.”
“No. You don’t.” She went in close enough to kiss my choker and now I could feel her exhale race down my neck. “It’s okay to squeeze my hands. You won’t hurt me.”
“Good to know.” I practically threw myself against her. “Now take a bite before I get cold.”
Her lips wetly slid off my choker and up to my ear. “It’ll hurt less if you let me make it feel good.” She smiled, baring her fangs, and I got a hot flash of what feeling good would entail.
“Do you need some dirty talk to get going or what? I’m fortified with essential vitamin. Low cholesterol. High in fiber. Part of a complete balanced breakfast.” I rubbed my thumb over her pulse in a way I knew drove me crazy. “Tastes great, less filling.”
“You’re so much more than food, Rachel. You’re a feast. The way you look, the way you sound…” She shuddered, eyes closed in sheer ecstasy at my presence, my willingness. “Nine. Course. Meal.”
“Don’t play with your food.”
She ripped away the choker so fast I barely even felt it. Finally, we were skin to skin, her teeth chilling on my neck as her breathing went deep. Her tongue came out between them and tasted my sweat. “Thank you so much, Rachel. So much.”
She bit me.
I thought it would hurt and it did. It hurt like nothing else. But it was a clean hurt, burning away all the aches and pains of my much-abused body. All of a sudden the pain faded and I felt short of breath, wrung out. I was floating higher and higher, part of me knew it was just the blood loss, and the pain of her fangs was the only thing tethering me. But I wouldn’t have minded floating forever.
Ivy bit down harder, driving her fangs deeper into me, and what I could feel of my legs went weak. I know it sounds like an orgasm, and it almost was, but it wasn’t. Instead of tensing up, my entire body relaxed to wait for the electric pulse of her drinking life from me. My arms were limp at my side, still tingling from her touch like they’d fallen asleep. Her hands were on me, cradling my head and lower back, and—oh! My blood spilled down my shoulder and it was hot, but in a good way, like a warm shower. No wonder Ivy loved this stuff! It even felt great.
And now Ivy had moved from making little wanting noises to making deep, satiated sounds as she lowered me to the ground. And finally the frantic gurgling of her drinking dissolved into a final, orgasmic moan. Her teeth left me empty, alone, and suddenly I could feel my clothes painfully chafing me. I pulled at them, but I was too weak. She had anticipated my need and undressed me, bringing me the release of cool air on my skin. But she left my itchy underwear on, damn her!
“Take more,” I begged her. “I have more.”
“And I have enough.” She sounded ashamed. Ivy pressed a towel to my wound and it hurt like a brand. I screamed myself hoarse; not hard when you were as short on blood as I was.
“Shh, shh.” She eyed my demon scar like a kid would candy, but shied away from it as she toweled me off with cold water. As soon as my breathing had returned to normal, she licked her fingers clean.
“Are you feeling okay?” Ivy asked. “Do you need a blanket?”
“I need you,” I blurted out before I got a hold of myself. ”I mean, how’s Piscary?”
After taking several deep breaths, she stepped out of the circle. And smiled like a death’s row inmate granted a reprieve. “No fucking idea!” She jumped down on the tarp next to me, but quickly restrained herself to just lying beside me. “Do you want me to take you to bed now? I mean…”
“I know what you mean. I’ve never felt so awake. I want to do something!”
“That’s your mind talking. Your body is very weak. I should bake you something.”
“Cookies. You eat sugar cookies after giving blood.”
“And Vitamin B12. Orange juice.”
“You don’t drink OJ with cookies, silly. You drink milk.”
“Milk, then orange juice. It’ll be a three-course meal.”
“I know what I want for dessert.” Marshalling my strength, I set my hand on her thigh. Mmmmm. I could feel my blood thrumming under her veins.
Ivy looked crestfallen, but she felt excited, electric. “My saliva contains an aphrodisiac. That’s what’s talking, not you.”
“I wanna feel your teeth… lower.” I dug my nails into her inner thigh. God, if she’d wanted my blood half as much as I wanted her, I’d put her through the wringer.
“Rachel, no. You yourself said…”
“I could bite you first.” I dragged my claws up her thigh. “Would you like that?”
She grabbed my arms and forcibly folded them in my lap. “I’m putting you to bed now.”
I laughed. “The floor’s fine with me, but fine, be classy!”
She picked me up and I growled in frustration as she kept me carefully aloft from the good bits. The only time I was even below her head was when she set me down in bed.
“Would you like to see Jenks?” Ivy asked. “Or I could call Nick, he’d love to see you…”
“I want you to put your tongue between my thighs, sucking me dry.”
“I’ve created a monster.” She pulled the sheets up to my chin, neatly tucking them in around my bandages. “Jenks, Rachel wants to see you!”
“Rache, Rache!” the little pixy careened into the room, his wings orange with concern. “Are you alright?! I heard shouting but the missus wouldn’t let me in! I don’t know what Ivy has on her! Are you alright!?”
“I’m fine,” except for this Ivy-shaped absence between my legs. “Jenks, could you leave me and Ivy alone for a few… hours?”
“No, he can’t!” Ivy answered quickly. “I’ll be in the kitchen.” She disappeared, she moved so fast.
“Huh,” Jenks said. “What’s with her?”
“She won’t give me the good fucking I deserve,” I muttered bitterly.
“What was that?”
“I said she bit me.”
“WHAT!?” Jenks’ wings exploded into a starburst of motion. “That low-down, dirty, no-good—“
“I asked her to.”
“WHAT!?”
“Stop that.” I took off my undies. With only Ivy’s sheets touching me (thank God they had that predator smell), I finally stopped itching altogether. “It was the only way to get her out from under that bastard Piscary’s thumb.”
“And now you’re under Ivy’s thumb!”
A sudden fantasy involving me, Ivy, and fingers (including, but not limited to, her thumb) made me moan out loud. “I had no idea what I was missing, Jenks. She made me feel so safe…”
“You’re not in love with you. You’re like one of those saps who got zapped by a love rap.”
“Shut up and let me enjoy it. I haven’t been this well-laid in a while.” I chuckled. “And here I thought the only thing well-laid about Ivy was her plans.”
Jenks slapped his forehead. “Why do you bigs get so stupid after sex?”
“That wasn’t sex, Jenks. That was foreplay.”
***
Ivy spent pretty much the rest of the day in the kitchen. She threw up the whole neighborhood between us, having Keasley check me over, somehow luring Nick over (just long enough for me to cut the cord), even inviting my mom by for tea. Super-orgasms or not, it would take me a while to forgive having daydreams of ripping Ivy’s clothes off while the three of us discussed small businesses. But finally, night fell and we were alone.
“I’ll take the couch,” she said, I’d never seen her robe done up so tightly. Her belt was tied with a Gordian knot. “The venom should have worn off by now, but I’m not taking any chances with you.”
“You’re a runner. Risk is our business.” I rubbed the bed next to me. “I can’t go all night without you. Where does a scion sleep anyway?”
“At the foot of its master’s bed. Like a dog.”
“Okay, we’ll skip that part.”
“Rachel, I know how good this feels. But it isn’t what you really want.”
“Or maybe you were right all along and it took that bite for me to see that I really—“
Her hand shot up. “Don’t! In the morning, we’ll have to go back to normal. And it’ll be even harder if I hear you say what I’ve been dreaming of you saying since I first laid eyes on you. Go to sleep, little girl. I love you too much to wake you.”
I bit my lip. The possibility she was right was disturbing; knowing my friend was so self-loathing she would rather be unhappy than with me was also disturbing, but fuck, I’m selfish. I couldn’t take the thought of not being in control, to the extent I’m ever in control. Even as a rodent, I had my mind. Being around Ivy, I could lose even that. But, damnit, she made me happy and I made her happy. That was all that mattered.
“So, tomorrow morning.” I looked straight at her. “You want to go out for donuts?”
“You never give up, do you?” She’d let a little fondness creep into her voice.
“If it was the venom, then it’ll be as friends. If not, it’ll be as something more.”
Ivy nodded after a long pause. “Okay. But no funny business. I gave you that dating guide for a reason.”
“I’m pretty sure it’s for what happened this afternoon.”
Her eyes went just a touch black at the memory, knees wobbling like she’d just gone to the happy place. Yup, still got it. “You, uh…” She wiped her hands on her pants. “Tasted very good. Thank you.”
I got what she was trying to say. No scioning required. “I’m sure what I’m feeling is real. I really hope it is.”
“Me too.” She pulled the down comforter over my sheets and tucked me in. I’d never felt so comfortable. “Either way, it won’t change how I feel about you.” She lingered over my face, so damn lovely it hurt. I licked my lips, stopped. I moved up to kiss her and she reared up like I was radioactive.
“Ivy, even if it is venom, I’ll grant you one little kiss.”
“I shouldn’t.”
“Oh, like that’s ever stopped me? I’m your scion, you have to do what I say.”
“That’s not how it works.”
“It is now.” I pulled her to me and kissed her until her eyes were all but black. She left to take a cold shower or drink cow’s blood or whatever.
I thought at least part of the nymphomaniac thing, the part that wasn’t strictly being in a loveless relationship and the sex life of a possible lesbian in denial (I still hadn’t given up on being bisexual. My mom would be crushed if she were entirely cheated out of little Morgans running around), had been Ivy’s venom. But we both knew there was something else there. Ivy was a smart cookie; she wouldn’t have stuck by me all this time unless she knew I was interested. Smelled it on me.
But over the day, as the Playwitch urges had died down, I’d started thinking of Ivy in a warm, fuzzy, Hallmark Channel way. Taking her home to meet Ma. Going to see sappy movies together. Taking down Trent together. All the times she’d protected me, been there for me, times that I hadn’t noticed. It felt good to acknowledge them, it felt like I was breathing in pure mountain air after being in the city for far too long.
One night’s sleep and we could be together. Romantically. Emotionally. Sexually, hoo boy, couldn’t forget sexually. I was so excited I couldn’t sleep, like it was Christmas morning. I felt a good, clean love for Ivy well up in me. Okay, I still wanted her to shag me rotten, but I also wanted to cuddle and get married in a big church. It wasn’t venom or pheromones or anything but good old-fashioned American love.
The door creaked open. Morning had come as I’d thought about our life together. Ivy stood in the doorway, clearly braced for disappointment. I’d disappointed her so much. Not this time.
“Ivy Tamwood, I love you.”
I’m pretty sure Ivy has the prettiest smile on Earth. But then, I’m her scion. You can hardly expect me to be impartial.