Playful mood faltering, I turned away. “Yes.” I had thrown my cinnamon scent out that morning. Ivy hadn’t said a word upon finding the thirty-dollar-an-ounce bottle making our trash smell like Christmas. It had failed me; I hadn’t the stomach to wear it again.

“Rachel…”

It was the beginning of a familiar argument, and I stiffened. Being in the unusual circumstances of having been raised in the Hollows, Nick knew more about vamps and their scent-triggered hungers than I did. “I’m not moving out,” I said flatly.

“Could you just…” He hesitated, his long pianist hands moving in short, jerky motions to show his frustration as he saw my jaw clench.

“We’re doing okay. I’m very careful.” Guilt for having not told him she had pinned me against the kitchen wall pulled my eyes down.

He sighed, his narrow body shifting. “Here.” He twisted to reach into his back pocket. “You hold the tickets. I lose everything that lays around longer than a week.”

“Remind me to keep moving, then,” I quipped to lighten the mood as I took them. I glanced down at the seat numbers. “Third row. Fantastic! I don’t know how you do it, Nick.”

He flashed his teeth in a pleased smile, the hint of cunning swelling in his eyes. He’d never tell me where he’d gotten them. Nick could find anything, and if he couldn’t, he knew someone who could. I had a feeling the guarded wariness he showed to authority stemmed from here. In spite of myself, I found this as yet unexplored part of Nick deliciously daring. And as long as I didn’t know for sure…

“Do you want some coffee?” I asked, shoving the tickets into my pocket.

Nick glanced past me into the empty sanctuary. “Ivy still here?”

I said nothing, and he read my answer in the silence. “She really does like you,” I lied.

“No thanks.” He shifted to the door. Ivy and Nick didn’t get along. I hadn’t a clue why. “I’ve got to get back to work. I’m on lunch break.”

Disappointment slumped my shoulders. “Okay.” Nick worked full-time at the museum at Eden Park, cleaning artifacts when he wasn’t moonlighting at the university library, helping them catalog and move their more sensitive volumes to a more secure location. I thought it amusing that our break-in to the university’s ancient-book locker was probably what prompted the move. I was sure Nick had taken the job so he could “borrow” the very tomes they were trying to safeguard. He was working both jobs until the end of the month, and I knew it left him tired.