A Fistful of Charms (36 page)

Jenks furrowed his brow, looking too severe for someone so young. “Don't be stupid, Rache,” he said, catching my arms and easily forcing them down. “You either take it with Brimstone or you'll be flat on your ass for four weeks.”

He was swearing. I knew I must be doing better. I could smell the water. I couldn't move my arms under his soft restraint, and I felt sick.
Why were they making me do this?

I looked at the straw, and taking that as a yes, Jenks slipped it between my lips. Breath held, I sucked it down, thinking the rusty water tasted better than the last cold beer I'd had. Tears started leaking out, my emotions thoroughly out of control. I thought of Ivy doing the same to me, bleeding me dry with that same metallic taste of me in her mouth.

I started to cry, choking on the water.
Damn it, what in hell was wrong with me?

“That's enough,” Ivy said softly. Through my watering eyes, I saw her reach out in concern, her hand touching Jenks's shoulder. He jumped, and Ivy pulled away, her face full of an inner pain.

She thought she was a monster. She thought she couldn't
touch anyone without ruining them, and I had proved her right.

The enormity of her life's misery fell on me, and I started to shake.

“She's going into shock,” Ivy said, oblivious to the real reason. I'd hurt her. I thought I had been strong enough to survive her, and by failing, I'd hurt her.

Jenks set the cup aside and rose. “I'll get a blanket.”

“I've got it,” she said, already gone.

My hands fluttered, and I realized I was getting sticky blood all over the bed. They were trying to help, but I didn't deserve it. I wished it had never happened. I had made a mistake, and they were both being so nice about it.

Another tremor shook me. I tried to scrunch up into myself for warmth. His green eyes pinched, Jenks pulled me upright, slipping in behind me. Curving his arms around me, he kept me from shaking apart.

Ivy wasn't pleased. “What are you doing?” she asked from across the room, her lips pressed tight as she shook out a brown motel blanket.

“I'm keeping her warm.”

Jenks smelled like green things. His arms wrapped around me, and his front pressed into my back. My head was spinning and my neck was a hurting ache. I knew I shouldn't be sitting up like that, but I couldn't remember how to say “Down.” I think I was still crying, since my face was wet and those noises in the background sort of sounded like me.

Ivy sighed, then came forward. “She's going to pass out if you keep her head up like that,” she muttered as she draped the blanket over us.

“Pixy dust will hold her together for only so long,” Jenks said softly. “And I don't want Jax to be fighting the gravity blood flow when he stitches her up.”

My eyes flashed open.
Stitches? Crap, not again. I'd just gotten rid of my scars.
“Wait,” I said, panic bringing me stiff at the thought of what it was going to feel like now that the
vampire saliva was dormant. “No stitches. I want my pain amulet.”

They didn't seem to understand me. Ivy bent close, looking at my eyes, not me. “We could take her to Emergency.”

From behind me, Jenks shook his head. “The Weres would track us from there. I'm surprised they haven't found us already. I can't believe you bit her. We have four Were packs scenting for our blood, and you think
now
is a good time to change your relationship?”

“Shut the hell up, Jenks.”

My stomach turned. I wanted my pain amulet. I wasn't a brave person. I'd seen the movie where they stitched up the guy with no anesthetic and bailing wire. It hurt. “Where's my amulet?” I pleaded, heart pounding. “Where's Keasley? I want Keasley.”

Ivy pulled away. “She's going incoherent.” Her brow furrowed, wrinkling her usually placid face. “Rachel?” she said loudly and with exaggerated slowness. “Listen to me. You should be stitched. Just four tiny stitches. I didn't rip you. It will be okay.”

“No!” I exclaimed, my vision darkening. “I don't have my pain amulet!”

Ivy gripped my shoulder through the blanket. Her eyes were full of compassion. “Don't worry. With your head up like this, you're going to pass out in about three seconds.”

She was right.

“J
enks, stop picking everything up before you break something,” I said, then drew my hand back from one of the ceramic knickknacks neatly arranged on the store shelves. It was a pumpkin with a little cat beside it, and it reminded me of Rex.

“What?” Grinning, Jenks tossed three ceramic bells into the air and juggled them.

I pointed at the handwritten sign with YOU BREAK IT, YOU BUY IT on it. I was tired, hungry, and my new stitches hidden under my red turtleneck ached 'cause I was stupid and I deserved to hurt. Even so, the last thing I needed was to pay for broken merchandise.

Jenks watched my mood, his roguish smile fading. Tossing all three up high into the open second story, he seriously caught them one by one and set them back where they belonged. “Sorry,” he said meekly.

I puffed my air out and touched his shoulder to tell him it was okay. Between the blood loss and Ivy's force-fed Brimstone, I was damn tired. Hands behind his back, Jenks continued perusing the shelves looking for a chunk of bone. He hadn't found any yesterday, and I needed it to finish this run and get the hell home.

Under the disguise amulet, Jenks looked very different with black hair and a darker complexion. He had his new aviator jacket on over the T-shirt he had bought in the previous store, making him a sexy, leggy, hunk o' pixy ass in
jeans. No wonder he had fifty-four kids and Matalina smiled like Mona Lisa.

Married pixy,
I told myself, forcing my eyes back to the shelf of ceramic animals.
Fifty-four kids. Beautiful wife, sweet as sugar, who would kill me in my sleep while apologizing for it.

Jenks wasn't happy about me being out here, but when I had woken up at a late three
P.M.
and found Ivy and Nick had taken the bus across the straits to get his truck, I had to get out. As usual, the Brimstone had made me hungry and nauseous, filling me with a brash stupidity that I was sure came from the upper that made Brimstone so popular on the streets. Seems if you took enough medicinal grade, you still got a buzz.
Thanks a hell of a lot, Ivy.

It was her fault I was restless; moving seemed to help. Though I knew Ivy would disagree, I thought it unlikely that the Weres would look for us here when it was more likely we had hightailed it to Cincinnati. But I wasn't going home until this was done. I wouldn't take a war back to my streets, my neighbors.

“Oh, wow,” Jenks breathed. “Rachel, look at this!”

I turned, finding him standing proudly before me with a red and black striped hat on his head. The thing must have been a foot tall, like a weird top hat. “That's nice, Jenks,” I said.

“I'm going to get it,” he said, beaming.

I took a breath to protest, then let it out. It was on sale. Five bucks. Why not?

My fingers trembled as I sifted through a display of beads, trying to decide if they were made of bone. I'd been out here with Jenks for an hour, and though he was loaded down with fudge, T-shirts, and useless bric-a-brac only a twelve-year-old or a pixy could love, I hadn't found anything suitable yet. I knew it wasn't smart to be out there, but I was a runner, damn it, and I could take care of myself—as long as I had Jenks to back me up, anyway. That and my splat gun tucked in my shoulder bag, loaded with sleepy-time charms.

A smile quirked the corners of my mouth as I watched
Jenks ogle a rack of plastic dinosaurs. He still had that hat on, but with his physique, the man could wear anything. Feeling my attention on him, he glanced up and away. Sure, he was oohing and ahhing over the trashiest stuff, but his eyes were constantly shifting, scanning the area more closely than a candy shop owner with a store full of elementary kids.

I knew he wished Jax was with us to play scout, but the pixy had gone with Ivy and Nick. Ivy wasn't letting Nick out of her sight since Jenks had found him in Squirrel's End trying to leave his sorrow in an empty glass. If she hadn't hated him before, she did now, seeing that he had put everything in jeopardy to slam down a few in the comfort of humans.

“Rache.” Jenks was suddenly at my elbow. “Come and look at what I found. It's made of bone. I think it's perfect. Let's get it and get out of here.”

His brow was creased in concern, because of my increasing fatigue, and deciding I had pushed my luck far enough, I shuffled after him. I was tired, the blood loss starting to win out over Ivy's Brimstone cocktails. Hiking my bag higher, I stopped beside a case full of American Indian stuff: tomahawks, little drums, carved totem poles, strings of beads and feathers. There was some turquoise in there, and realizing by the price tags that it wasn't tourist crap but real artwork, I leaned forward. Didn't Indians carve stuff out of bone?

“Look at that necklace,” Jenks said proudly, pointing through the glass. “It's got a hunk of bone for the pendant. You could get that. Put the demon curse in it, and bang! Not only do you have a new focus, but you've got yourself some kick-ass Native American bling.”

Hunched over the display case, I glanced wearily up at him.

“Oh!” he exclaimed, and I followed his gaze to an ugly totem shoved into the corner of the case as if in apology. “Look at that! That would look great in my living room!”

I exhaled slowly, dubiously eyeing it. The thing stood about four inches high, and the animals portrayed were so stylized, I couldn't tell if they were beaver, deer, wolves, or bear. Blocky teeth and big eyes. It was ugly, but a right kind of ugly.

“I'm getting it for Matalina,” he said proudly, and my eyes widened as I tried not to imagine what to a pixy would be akin to a six-foot totem pole in the middle of Matalina's living room. I had no idea how pixies decorated, but I couldn't imagine the woman would be pleased.

“Ma'am?” he called out, his posture upright and eager. “How much is this?”

I leaned heavily on the counter as the woman finished up at the register and hustled over. Tuning her and Jenks out as they haggled over the price, I looked at the necklace. It was out of my easy price range, but there was a statue of a wolf next to it. It was expensive too, but if it didn't work, I could bring it back.

Reaching a decision, I straightened. “Can I see that wolf statue?” I asked, interrupting Jenks trying to sweet-talk the woman into giving him a senior citizen discount. She wasn't buying that he had kids and a mortgage. I couldn't blame her. He looked like he should be in high school with that funky hat on.

Her eyebrows high and her expression cagy, the woman unlocked the case and set the statue in my hand. “It's bone, right?” I asked, turning it over to see the
MADE IN CHINA
sticker.
Not so authentic, then, but I wasn't going to complain.

“Ox bone,” the woman said warily. “No regulations on importing ox bone.”

I nodded, setting it on the counter. It was pricey, but I wanted to go home. Or at least back to my motel room. “Would you give us a price break if we bought two pieces?” I asked, and a satisfied smile spread over the woman's face.

Delighted, Jenks took over, overseeing her wrap both pieces up and boxing them individually. My pulse slow and lethargic, I dug in my bag for my wallet.

“My treat,” Jenks said, his young features looking innocent and flustered. “Go stand by the door or something.”

His treat? It was all coming out of the same pot.
Eyebrows high, I tried to look past him, but he got in my way, pulling off his hat and using it to hide something he had
slipped onto the counter. I caught a glimpse of a bottle of Sun-Fun color-changing nail polish, then smiled and turned away. Next year's solstice gift, maybe?

“I'll be outside,” I said, seeing an empty bench in the middle of the open-air mall. Jenks mumbled something, and I leaned into the glass door, glad it moved easily. The air smelled like fudge and water, and with slow steps I made a beeline for the bench before the young family with ice cream cones could reach it.

I exhaled as I settled myself on the wooden bench. The wind was light in the protected area, and the sun was warm. I breathed deeply, pulling in the scent of the marigolds behind me. It was right on the cusp of being able to plant annuals up there, but they would be sheltered from frost, being surrounded by so much stone.

Though the tourist season hadn't officially started, it was busy. People with colorful sacks drifted aimlessly in a contented pattern of idle amusement that was comforting to see, humans mostly, with the odd witch making a statement with his or her dress. It was hard to tell who was who otherwise—unless you got close enough to smell them.

The sound of unseen pixy wings was a soft, almost subliminal hum. My hands drifted up to my scent amulet, making sure it was touching my skin. I knew I shouldn't have been out there alone, but I was under two disguises. What were the chances the Weres would even be looking for me here? And if they were, they would never recognize me.

I glanced up when the shop door opened and Jenks came out, squinting in the brighter light until he put his shades on. The top of that hat poked out from the bag he carried, and I smiled. His head turned to the end of the mall where we had parked Kisten's Corvette. It was obvious he wanted to hustle me over there and get me home, but upon seeing me slumped in fatigue, he came to a silent standstill above me. Slowly I drew my head up.

“Are you—” Jenks started.

“I'm fine,” I lied, wanting to pluck my turtleneck off my
stitches. Jax had used dental floss, but they still pulled on the fabric. “The couch left me tight, is all.”

He grinned, sitting down cross-legged on the bench as if it was a toadstool. Jenks had slept in the van last night so neither Ivy nor I had to. Hell, I didn't even want to ride in it again—which was probably why Ivy had taken a cab across the straits to get Nick's truck.

“I was going to ask you if you were hungry and wanted a hamburger,” he said, squinting, “but I like your idea better. I could go for a little scuffle. Loosen up. Get the blood flowing.”

I hated feeling weak. Taking a weary breath, I straightened. “Jenks, sit like a man. That was cute when you were four inches tall, but now you look prissy.”

Immediately he put his feet on the ground, knees together and a worried look on him. Puffing the hair from my eyes, I gave up and rolled my turtleneck down. So I had been bitten by a vamp. Lots of people were. “That doesn't look much better,” I said.

“Well, how the hell am I supposed to sit!” he exclaimed.

Lacing my fingers over my head, I stretched carefully, feeling the stitches pull. Kisten's bracelet shifted to my elbow to make a cold spot of metal against my skin. “Have you seen Kisten slouch in the kitchen?”

With a hesitant slowness that could have been provocative, Jenks extended his legs. Lean in his tight jeans, he slumped until his neck rested atop the back of the bench. His arms went out to run along the length of the worn wood and his feet spread suggestively.

Oh
—
my
—
God.
Flushing, I sat up straight. “Yeah,” I said faintly. “That's better.”
Fifty-four kids. Fifty-four kids. And where was that camera he was going to buy for me?

“Give me a minute to catch my breath,” I said, sneaking glances at him. “Then we can head to the car. I need a few more things to make the demon spell, but I'm too tired to do it now.” It grated on me to admit it, but it was kinda obvious.

Jenks sat up with a little grunt, rummaging in a pocket of his coat to bring out a folded napkin. “Here,” he said, handing
it to me. “Ivy said you might be stupid enough to leave the motel, and if you did to give you this.”

Irritation filled me, and I unfolded it to find one of her Brimstone cookies. “Damn it, Jenks!” I hissed, folding it up and glancing at the passing people. “You want to see me in jail?”

He smirked. “Then eat it and get rid of the evidence. Tink's a Disney whore, Rache, you're worse than my kids. You need it. It's medicinal. Just eat the damned cookie.”

I felt it light in my hand, thinking it wasn't as simple as he made it out to be. The only reason I was out here was because the dose I'd taken before bed had woken me with the jitters. 'Least, I was blaming it on that. I felt like crap, though, so I opened it up and nibbled a corner.

Immediately Jenks's posture relaxed. I followed his gaze across the busy plaza to the hanging planters, finally spotting the pixies. They were chasing a hummingbird off, their ferocity surprising me. It was too early for fairies to be back from Mexico, and with a little practice, the pixies might be able to hold the plaza when they migrated up.

The silence grew as I broke off a second corner off Ivy's cookie and guiltily ate it. I hated being on Brimstone, but I hated being flat on my back more.
There had to be another way,
I thought. But it would shorten my fatigued state from three weeks to three days. It wasn't magic, but it was close. I could actually feel the drug taking hold, making my pulse quicken and the slight trembling of my fingers disappear. No wonder this stuff was illegal.

Jenks was quiet, watching the passing people with interest while he waited for my strength to return. I didn't have a dad to talk stuff over with, and my mom was too far away. Jenks was a heavy third of our firm; what he thought mattered. I took a breath, worried about what he might say after I told him what really had me out there, running from my thoughts.

I'd done some thinking that morning, hunched over the sink and squinting into the shower-fogged mirror to inspect my new stitches and scraped face. The tears were small and
harmless looking, nothing like the savage rips Al had given me—but they forced me to question how long I had been pushing Ivy into biting me—'cause this hadn't come out of nowhere. So while the shower ran from hot to cold, I sat on the edge of the tub with a towel wrapped around myself, shaking and almost physically ill with the thought that Ivy had been right about at least part of it. All it had taken was a brush with death for me to admit it.