Ivy’s breath came harsh. “I could have killed her!” she exclaimed, and I jumped. “I lost control just like always and almost killed her. She let me do it because she trusted me.” Her words were now muffled. “She understood everything and she didn’t stop me.”

“You’re scared,” Kisten accused, and my eyes widened at his gall.

But Ivy took it in stride as she laughed sarcastically. “You think?”

“No,” he insisted, “I mean you’re scared. You’re afraid to try to find a balance you can both live with, because if you try and can’t, she leaves and you’ve got nothing.”

“That’s not it,” she said flatly, and I nodded. That was part of it, but not all.

Kisten leaned forward; I could hear the chair creak. “You think you don’t deserve anything good,” he said, and my face went cold, wondering if there was more to this than I had thought. “Afraid you’re going to ruin every decent thing you get, so you’re going to stick with this shitty half relationship instead of seeing where it might go.”

“It’s not a half relationship,” Ivy protested.

He touched the truth, I thought. But that’s not what keeps her silent.

“Compared to what you might have, it is,” he said, and I heard someone get up and move. “She’s straight, and you’re not,” Kisten added, and my pulse quickened. His voice was now coming from where Ivy sat. “She sees a deep platonic relationship, and you know that even if you start one, you’ll eventually delude yourself into believing it’s deeper. She’ll be your friend when what you want is a lover. And one night in a moment of blood passion, you’re going to make a mistake in a very concrete way and she’ll be gone.”

“Shut up!” she shouted, and I heard a slap, perhaps of a hand meeting someone’s grip.

Kisten laughed gently, ending it with a sigh of understanding. “I got it right that time.”

His liquid voice, gray with truth, sent a shiver through me. Back up, I told myself. Back up and go play with the cat. I could hear my heartbeat in the silence. From the disc player, the song ended.

“Are you going to share blood with her again?”

It was a gentle, hesitant inquiry, and Ivy took a noisy breath. “I can’t.”

“Mind if I do?”

Oh God. This time I did move, pulling the canvas bag tight to me. Kisten already had my body. If we shared blood, it would be too much for Ivy’s pride. Something would break.

“Bastard,” Ivy said, pulling my retreat to a halt.

“You know how I feel about her,” he said. “I’m not going to walk away because of your asinine hang-ups about blood.”

My lips parted at his bitter accusation, and Ivy’s breath hissed. “Hang-ups?” she said vehemently. “Mixing sex with bloodletting is the only way I can keep from losing control with someone I love, Kisten! I thought I was better, but obviously I’m not!”