I blinked. Did she mean excited as in scared, angry, or both? “Beg pardon?”

“And maybe get a stronger perfume?” she added apologetically.

“I—I just bought some,” I said in surprise. “Jenks said it covered everything.”

A sudden distress pinched Ivy’s face as she met my gaze. “Rachel … I can still smell me thick on you. You’re like a big chocolate-chip cookie sitting all alone on an empty table. And when you get all agitated, it’s as if you just came out of the oven, all warm and gooey. I haven’t had a cookie in three years. Could you just calm down so you don’t smell so damn good?”

“Oh.” Suddenly cold, I sank down in my chair at the table. I didn’t like being compared to food. And I’d never be able to eat another chocolate-chip cookie again. “I rewashed my clothes,” I said in a small voice. “I’m not using your sheets or soap anymore.”

Ivy’s eyes were on the floor when I turned around. “I know,” she said. “I appreciate it. It helps. This isn’t your fault. A vampire’s scent lingers on anyone they live with. It’s a survival trait that tends to lengthen the life of a vampire’s companion by telling other vamps to back off. I didn’t think I would notice it, seeing as we were sharing floor space, not blood.”

A shudder went through me as I recalled from my basic Latin class that the word companion stemmed from the word for food. “I don’t belong to you,” I said.

“I know.” She took a careful breath, not looking at me. “The lavender is helping. Maybe if you hung satchels of it in your closet it would be enough. And tried not to get so emotional, especially when we’re—discussing alternative actions?”

“Okay,” I said softly, realizing how complex this arrangement was going to be.

“Are you still going out to Kalamack’s tomorrow?” Ivy asked.

I nodded, relieved at the change of topics. “I don’t want to go without Jenks, but I don’t think I can wait for him to be flightworthy.”

Ivy was silent for a long moment. “I’ll drive you out. As close as you want to risk it.”

My mouth dropped open for a second time. “Why? I mean, really?” I quickly amended, and she shrugged.

“You’re right. If you don’t get this done quickly, you won’t last another week.”

Seventeen

“You aren’t going, dear,” Mrs. Jenks said tightly.

I dumped my last swallow of coffee down the sink, gazing uncomfortably into the garden, bright with the early afternoon sun. I would rather be anywhere else right now.

“The devil I’m not,” Jenks muttered.

I turned around, too tired from a morning with not enough sleep to enjoy watching Jenks get henpecked. He was standing on the stainless steel island with his hands aggressively on his hips. Beyond him, Ivy was hunched at her wooden table as she planned three routes to the Kalamack estate. Mrs. Jenks was beside her. Her stiff stance said it all. She didn’t want him to go. And looking the way she did, I wasn’t about to contradict her.