A sick smile came over Ivy. Dropping back a step, Skimmer’s gaze went between us. Confusion made her cheeks bright red. This was a mess. This was a sticky, stinking mess of crap, and the levels were steadily rising.

Skimmer swallowed hard. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Hesitating, she added, “Boy, this is awkward.”

I felt my shoulders ease at her admission. She was going to do what she had to do, and I was going to do what I had to do. And Ivy? Ivy was going to go insane.

Erica moved forward, the jingling of her jewelry sounding loud. “Hey, ah, does anyone want a cookie or something?”

Oh yeah. A cookie. That would make everything better. Dunked in a shot of tequila, maybe? Or better yet, just the bottle? Yeah, that ought to do it.

Skimmer forced a smile. Her crisp mien was wearing thin, but she was holding up well considering she had left her home and master to rekindle a relationship with her high school girlfriend who was rooming with the woman who had put her new boss behind bars. Join us next time for Days of the Undead when Rachel learns her long lost brother is really a crown prince from outer space. My life was so screwed up.

Skimmer glanced at her watch—I couldn’t help but notice it had diamonds on it in place of numbers. “I’ve got to go. I’m meeting with—someone in about an hour.”

She was going to meet someone in about an hour. Just after the sun went down. Why didn’t she just say Piscary?

“You need a ride?” Ivy said, sounding almost wistful, if she would ever let that particular emotion come from her.

Skimmer looked from Ivy to me and back to Ivy, hurt and disappointment flickering in the back of her eyes. “No,” she said softly. “I’ve got a cab coming.” She swallowed, trying to scrape herself back together. “Actually, I think that’s it now.”

I didn’t hear anything, but I didn’t have a living vampire’s hearing.

Skimmer shifted awkwardly forward. “It was nice meeting you,” she said to me, then turned to Ivy. “I’ll talk to you later, sweets,” she said, eyes closed as she gave her a long hug.

Ivy was still in a shocked quandary, and she returned it looking numb.

“Skimmer,” I said as they broke apart and the shaken, subdued woman took a thin jacket from the hall closet and put it on. “This isn’t what you think.”

She stopped with her hand on the doorknob, looking at Ivy for a long moment with deep regret. “It’s not what I think that matters,” she said as she opened the door. “It’s what Ivy wants.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but she left, latching the door softly behind her.

Seventeen