Felix? Her voice had no inflection and her movement was vampiric fast as she jerked to a stop, stymied from tucking her knives away when she realized she was in silk pajamas, not leather pants.

Ivy turned, expression riven with grief. “He must have been there all the time, waiting for me to leave.”

“I’m so sorry!” the pixy girl wailed. “She looked okay. She talked to me and looked okay. She said she was going to get some ice cream to surprise you.”

Ivy stood shaking, one hand full of knives, the other holding her katana, her hair falling to hide her eyes. “I can’t let him destroy her. Not now.”

“She said it was a surprise!” the pixy cried, and Jenks hovered helplessly.

“It’s okay,” I said to the little pixy. “Go back to the lines.” But she didn’t, clearly upset. I gave Jenks a pleading look, and he darted down to take the crying girl outside.

“He’s going to kill her,” Ivy said in the new quiet. “I can’t lose her, Rachel. Not to that madness!”

Her head came up, and my resolve strengthened. “Give me five minutes to get dressed.”

“She could be dead in five minutes!” Eyes black, she ran for the hallway.

I stumbled out of her way. Fear hit me hard, and my heart gave a pound as I heard her throwing on clothes, her breath coming in quick, almost sobbing pants. Felix was awake? Ivy didn’t have a chance.

“Ivy.”

I found her in the hallway, katana in one hand, stakes in the other, the knives now tucked away.

“This is a vampire issue,” she said, then turned her back on me and walked steadily to her death.

“Do something!” Jenks shouted from the ceiling, and I ran at her.

Ivy gasped as I tackled her, and we slid into the sanctuary. “You are not going without me!” I shouted, and then the world spun as she shoved me off her.

“I can’t leave her to that!” she screamed, pinning me to the oak floor, straddling me with her sheathed blade under my chin and her hair mingling with mine. “Rachel, I love her!”

The hard leather was cold against me, and her hand on my shoulder warm. “Ivy,” I said softly, tears blurring my vision. “Look at me. He didn’t call her to him to kill her. He wants her alive. He needs Nina alive in order to see the sun.”

Ivy’s face twisted in fear, and the scent of vampire incense poured over me, making my neck tingle. I was losing her.

“Ivy!” I called, and her gaze came back to mine. “He won’t kill her unless by mistake. We have some time. We can get her back. Give me a chance to get dressed and grab my charms so I can come with you. You’re not alone. We’ll do this together.”

Fear showed in her eyes, and she took a heaving breath, the blade beginning to shake against me. Jenks’s dust glowed in her hair, and for some dumb reason, I felt more love—more loved, maybe—than I ever had before.

“He probably took her to Cormel’s,” I said to give her something to focus on so she could find herself. “That’s where Felix has been staying. You have to figure out how we are going to get in. That’s what you do.”

Her hand shook, and with a thump, the sword hit the floor and slid four feet. My breath came in a gasp as she spun away off me. Shaking, I sat up. She was huddled on the floor, her knees to her chin as she held herself together and cried great gasping sobs of heartache and frustration. “How can I save her?” she moaned. “How? It’s like heaven in his arms. Hell in his mind . . .”

I glanced up at Jenks, then pretty much crawled over to her, pulling her to me so she didn’t have to cry alone. She was real and solid, her fear and grief shaking in her. The world had shifted. I didn’t need her anymore. She needed me, and I wouldn’t fail her.

“We will get her back,” I said, my arms holding her against the tremors, my words a breath in her hair as she shook. “I promise.”

Eleven

Phone to my ear, I sat in the passenger seat of Ivy’s mom’s big blue Buick and listened to the background FIB office chatter as Rose, Edden’s secretary, looked for Edden. I hadn’t had any luck getting ahold of David, his voice mail full and his cell going unanswered. It wasn’t unusual for him to let it ring, especially when working, but I didn’t like that the last time I’d talked to him, he’d been investigating the Free Vampires.

We were parked outside of Cormel’s, Ivy fiddling with her scarf as she stared at the unassuming two-story tavern turned residence, filling the car with the intoxicating scent of frustrated vampire. As we waited for Jenks to return from his recon, the memory of our trip out west bubbled up from the recesses, pulled into existence by the faint scent of elf from the back. The two aromas were combining to make my libido run a tingling path from my neck to my groin and back again.

Vampire pheromones and curiosity once drew me into a possible lifelong path with Ivy, but we were truly better apart. She needed to be needed, and I couldn’t be that person anymore. I was too much a demon, and not enough witch.

A huge Free Vampire glyph had been spray-painted on the twin oak doors, making me wonder if it was coincidence or if the cult had fixed on Felix as something special, seeing as he was awake and no other undead vampire was. The sun would be up soon, and a bright glint hazed the pristinely clean windows on the upper floor. If he was still here, Felix would be trapped in the more elaborate underground apartments, making him more aggressive in his madness. I wasn’t about to ask Ivy to wait for reinforcements, though. I agreed that the longer Nina was there, the harder it would be to not only pull her out but separate their minds.

I stiffened when the chatter on the line turned into a woman’s tired voice. “I’m sorry,” Rose said, clearly distracted. “Captain Edden is in a meeting. Can I take a message?”

A message? I thought, then I exhaled, trying not to get mad. Ivy was tense enough. “Sure. Tell him that Rachel, Ivy, and Jenks are at Cormel’s rescuing Nina from Felix. Free Vampires might be involved, and any help the FIB could provide would be appreciated,” I said sarcastically. “But I realize you’re a little busy this morning. What with your meetings and all. I’m turning my phone off, but I’ll check my messages when we’re done. Bye-bye now.” Not waiting for a confirmation, I hung up.

Ticked, I hit the dash, then winced when I noticed Ivy’s eyes had dilated at my anger. “Sorry.” I needed David and the muscle he commanded. Why didn’t he answer his damn phone!

Ivy’s jaw tightened. “They must have caught Jenks. Let’s go.”

She reached for the door handle, and I took her arm, stopping her. Her eyes fixed on mine, and I let go, stifling a shiver at the depth of fear in them. “No one caught Jenks,” I said, looking over the quiet parking lot with its handful of cars and a sad attempt at landscaping between us and the twin-door front. No one had bothered to take down the Pizza Piscary’s sign, and it looked old and tired. “But we can get out of the car. The cameras are down.”

Get out. It was a good idea. Between her frustration, my fear, and a car smelling like an aphrodisiac mix of both of us, it was a wonder she hadn’t tried to jump my jugular. And the cameras were down. Jenks had made us wait a block over while he spent five minutes clearing our way. Anyone watching the video feeds might notice that the sun never got any closer to rising, but I doubted it.

We reached for our doors simultaneously, not worried about anyone actually looking out a window. The fresh air shocked through me, clearing my head. Ivy, too, seemed to breathe easier. A siren lifted from across the Ohio River, then faded, pulling my attention to Cincinnati and the brightening sky. Ivy got her katana out from the backseat, leaving the sheath on as she made a few practice moves to loosen up and get rid of some adrenaline. Me, I leaned against the car and tried calling David again to no avail, deciding to mute it instead of turning it off. If worse came to worst, I could be found with the built-in GPS—providing we weren’t too deep.

“There he is,” Ivy said in relief, and I dropped the phone into my pocket and leaned into the car to get my shoulder bag. Jenks was a silver trace of dust when I levered myself back out, and I tugged my red jacket down and made sure the cuffs of my jeans weren’t rolled up.

“I think I know why David isn’t answering your calls,” the pixy said as he came to a hovering, white-faced halt before us, and my heart dropped. “I didn’t see Nina,” he added quickly when Ivy paled. “Or David. But the ground floor where the restaurant used to be looks like a blood orgy just finished and your pack was the main entertainment, Rache.”

Shit.

Weres couldn’t be turned, but they could be bound. Anger mixed with fear, the icy slurry setting my heart pounding as I strode for the front door. Anger won, and I pulled my splat gun with a cold certainty I’d use deadly force if needed. David was my rock, the one person in my life who could walk into any situation and find justice with a no-holds-barred force that held no apology, no thought to the future. Heaven help the person who hurt him.

“And you think you’re a bad alpha,” Jenks said, easily pacing me.

“Rachel, wait up!” Ivy all but hissed, jogging until she caught up. With a shake, she shook the sheath from the katana.

“Go right in,” Jenks said as we got closer, the old oak door silent and unmanned. “No one is conscious.”

Asking Ivy to wait, I pulled my phone back out and hit 911. I already knew which button to hit to go to their answering machine, and as soon as I got the beep, I rushed to say, “This is Rachel Morgan. Runner number 2000106WR48. I’m at Pizza Piscary’s. It’s sunrise. There are multiple unconscious vampires and Weres needing medical assistance. Use caution as a master vampire may be awake and violent. And try not to shoot us, okay? It’s me, Ivy Tamwood, and Jenks Pixy.”

I ended the call, and Ivy moved. Grimacing, she yanked one side of the big oak doors open and lurched in. I almost ran into her when she stopped dead in her tracks.

The predawn light didn’t go very far, and I stared, hand over my nose as I tried to figure out what my still-adjusting eyes were seeing. “Holy crap,” I whispered, looking over the loungelike arrangement of couches and tables set between the still-used bar and the stone fireplace. Slack-faced people were strewn everywhere, all of them smeared in blood. Some were in skimpy evening wear, others in utilitarian uniforms. It was a free-for-all, everyone-welcome-no-one-leaves blood orgy. As Jenks had said, they still breathed, but it was obvious they were stupefied with either blood loss or blood indulgence—or both.

Where is my pack?

Ivy draped her scarf over her mouth and went in. Heart pounding and looking for something to shoot, I followed. It got worse as my eyes adjusted. Blood smeared the floor, furniture, and skin, but there were no large pools of it. People I hardly recognized wearing my dandelion tattoo looked as if they might have resisted at first, Cormel’s children in skimpy attire—not so much. All dripped blood. No one was tending the satiated or depleted, which was not the norm—if any of this could be considered normal. It smelled like stale alcohol and dead things by the side of the road.

“Where’s David?” I whispered, and Jenks hummed back from the fireplace, his trailing sparkle the only clean thing in the room.

“He’s not here,” he said, expression grim. “Downstairs, maybe? That’s where they would’ve taken Nina this close to sunrise. Everyone’s aura looks okay. No one is going to die. Today.”

David wouldn’t voluntarily leave his people like this. I tucked my splat gun away, my anger growing. All of them had taken my hurt for me, and I didn’t even know all their names. I wasn’t going to let this go, and someone was going to answer for it.

White-faced, Ivy crouched beside a big man with bulging muscles. “Dan,” she said, giving him a shake, and the man snorted, eyes fluttering. “Dan, wake up. Who did this?”

Please don’t say Nina, I thought, knowing Jenks was thinking the same thing as he sat on the banister and sifted an unhappy blue dust.

“Ivy?” The man smiled, then winced as pain etched his expression. “Don’t move me. Oh God, don’t touch me. Are they gone?”

Ivy took her hand away. With overindulgence, the undead left their victims with a very low threshold to stimulation. Even the breath of their assailant could register as unbearable pleasure, and the effect lingered for a time. “Danny. Who did this?”

“That bastard Cormel has been keeping in the basement,” Dan breathed. “It was the Free Vampires. They got him out. The Weres showed up, following them, and things got out of hand. He pulled us all into it. They tried to get him to go with them, but he wouldn’t and they finally went away. Left us as we were.” His breath came in a staggering hiccup as he tried to sit up. “My God,” he said, eyes unfocused but brilliant. “I’d die for him. He’s like liquid fire.”

Felix was here. The Free Vampires weren’t. And Nina was with Felix.

Ivy didn’t move when Dan gripped her arm, and the ragged tear in his flesh began to fill with blood. “Where is he?” he begged, his legs twisted at an odd angle. “I . . .” Confused, he looked at the vampires around him as if only now remembering. “Where is he?”

Ivy knelt, her katana within reach as she moved his hand off her and he moaned in pleasure. “Shhh,” she soothed, yanking a throw from a nearby couch and tucking it under his chin. “Go to sleep. Rest.”

“No,” he said petulantly. “I need.”

She nodded, her expression soft and caring. “I know. Go to sleep.”