Ivy’s shoulders lost their usual upright posture. “I’ll come by. I don’t want to talk over the phone.” She shot me a forced, close-lipped smile. “Ready to go?”

I nodded, giving Ivy’s dad a head bob as I followed her out into the dining room and to the front door. Knowing how good vamp hearing was, I kept my mouth shut until the elegantly carved door thumped shut behind us and our feet were again on the snow. It had grown dusky, and the snow-drifts seemed to glow in the light reflected off the sky.

Erica’s car was gone. Key’s jingling, Ivy hesitated. “Hold up,” she said, boots squeaking in the snow as she went to where the red car had been parked. “I think she ditched her caps.”

I stood by my open door and waited while Ivy came to a standstill beside the wheel marks. Eyes closed, she flung her hand as if throwing something, and then strode to the other side of the drive. As I watched in a mystified silence, she searched the snow. Bending at the waist twice, she picked something up. She came back and got into the car without comment.

I followed her in and fastened my belt, wishing it were darker so I didn’t have to watch her drive. At my questioning silence, Ivy held out her hand and dropped two bits of hollow plastic into my grip. The car started, and I aimed the vents at me, hoping the engine was still warm. “Caps?” I asked, looking at them small and white in my palm as Ivy pulled away. How on earth did she find these in the snow?

“Guaranteed to keep from breaking skin,” Ivy said, her thin lips pressing together. “And with that, she can’t accidentally bind anyone to her. She’s supposed to wear them until Dad says so. And at this rate, she’s going to be thirty before that happens. I know where she works. Mind if we drop them off?”

I shook my head, extending them back to her. Ivy checked both ways at the end of the drive before pulling out in front of a blue station wagon, wheels spinning in the slush. “I’ve got an empty caps case in my purse. Would you put them in there for me?”

“Sure.” I didn’t like digging around in her purse, but if I didn’t, she’d do it while driving, and my stomach was in enough knots already. I felt odd as I put Ivy’s purse on my lap and opened it up. It was disgustingly tidy. Not a single used tissue or lint-covered candy.