“I will have someone!” Felix shouted, and my lips parted as he crouched, preparing to jump me again. Is he trying to get me to kill him? I thought, shocked when a low sound of hatred rumbled forth, growing as he slid closer, dancing to music that maddened him. “I will have someone . . .”

“Felix, we’re trying to help!” I cried, then traced an informal circle about myself. Seeing it, Felix lunged, arm reaching. Instinct pushed me back, and my heel broke my circle even as it formed. I gasped, then stared, shocked as a shadow from the back living room flew into the kitchen, jerking Felix from me and spinning him into the corner by the fridge.

“Ohem!” a voice boomed from the short, stocky man somehow standing between us. “Find yourself!”

“Holy crap, it’s Cormel!” Jenks shrilled, and I fell back against the wall, hand on my throat as I realized it was Rynn Cormel, probably here to talk to Ivy.

“That one needs punishing!” Felix pointed at me, pacing back and forth before him, totally out of his mind. “She is mine. Mine!”

Rynn Cormel’s jaw was tight as he raised a hand. His felt cap lay on the floor, and his coat smelled of cashmere and vampire. “Let go of the thought of her, sir,” he said calmly, and I pulled myself straight, grimacing. I’d filled the air with my fear—I’d known better. Jenks, hovering at the ceiling with a bloody, bared sword, was tense enough for both of us.

“The demon witch encouraged my scion to defy me . . .” Felix’s voice was softer now, more calculating, scaring me.

Rynn Cormel shook his head, his Brooklyn accent sounding odd as he firmly said, “This is mine, not yours. I punish her, not you.”

No one was going to punish me, but I was smart enough not to say anything. My heart pounded, and I was glad Cormel was here. Felix was out of his mind.

Felix’s angry pacing slowed, and Cormel’s outstretched hand shifted to one of welcome. “You are in need, sir,” he said respectfully. “Distraught, and drunk on the sun. Let go of this idea and turn to a new one before my ward kills you. She’s not for you. She’s not for me. She is for Ivy.”

“Ivy . . .” Felix snarled, and I held my breath as Felix thought that over. His youthful face was twisted into an ugly mask of anguish and fear, his eyes black and showing a lack of control I’d expect from the newly undead, not one older than Cincinnati’s tunnels.

“I am drunk on the sun,” he said suddenly, his beautiful voice cracking. “Oh God.” He said the words with anguish, falling back against the counter as if having abruptly found himself. “What have I done? What . . .”

Jenks dropped from the ceiling to my shoulder, and I jumped.