Keasley set an arthritic hand atop a stone as we passed, halting. “You make one move toward Piscary and I’ll plug you with another charm.”

I scowled, and with a toothy grin Keasley handed me my splat gun.

“Ivy is a vampire, Rachel,” the old man said, his mirth evaporating. “Unless you start taking some responsibility, you should accept that she is where she belongs and walk away.”

My posture stiffened, and I tugged my blanket up when it slipped. “Just what in hell does that mean?” I snapped, dropping the gun in with the radio.

Keasley, though, smiled, his narrow chest moving as he caught his breath. “Either make your relationship official or let her go.”

Surprised, I stared at him, squinting in the strong morning light. “Excuse me?”

“Vampires have an unbreakable mind-set,” he said, putting an arm over my shoulder and starting us to the gate. “Apart from the master vampires, they physically need to look to someone stronger than them. It’s hardwired in, like Weres and their alphas. Ivy looks powerful because there are so few people stronger than she. Piscary’s one. You’re another.”

My steps, slow to match his, grew even slower. “I can’t best him. Despite what I wanted to do last night.” God, it was embarrassing. I deserved to have been downed by my own spell.

“I never said you could beat Piscary,” the old witch said as we helped each other over the uncertain footing of the graveyard. “I said you were stronger than him. You can help Ivy be who she wants, but if she can’t let go of her fear and make peace with her needs, she’s going to fall back to Piscary. I don’t think she’s decided yet.”

I felt odd. “How do you figure that?”

His wrinkles deepened. “Because she didn’t try to kill you last night.”

My stomach clenched. How come he can see things so clearly and I’m thicker than a cement wall? Must go along with the wise-old-man image. “We tried it once,” I said softly, wanting to touch my neck. “She almost killed me. She says the only way she can control her blood lust is if we mixed it with sex. Otherwise she loses control, and I’d have to hurt her to get her to back off. I can’t, Keasley. I won’t mix the ecstasy of blood-letting with hurting her. It’s wrong and sick.”

My pulse had quickened from the foul thought that that’s what Piscary did…and what he had turned her into. I knew that my face was red, but Keasley didn’t seem shocked when brought his attention up. His brow pinched, he gave me a pitying look. “You’re in a spot, aren’t you?”