“Thanks, Dad.” Smiling a close-lipped smile in relief, she gave him a hug. “We gotta go. I’ve got a run tonight.”

“Darvan’s girl?” he asked, and she nodded, the hint of guilt and fear on her still. “Good. You keep doing what you’re doing. I’ll talk to Piscary and see what I can work out.”

“Thanks.”

He turned to me. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Rachel.”

“Same here, Mr. Randal.” I was glad the vampire talk seemed to be over. We could all pretend to be normal again; hide the ugliness under the five-thousand-dollar rug.

“Wait, Ivy. Here.” The man reached into his back pocket and pulled out a worn wallet, turning himself from a vampire into just another dad.

“Dad,” Ivy protested. “I’ve got my own money.”

He smiled with half his mouth. “Think of it as a thank-you for watching Erica at the concert. Have lunch on me.”

I said nothing as he shoved a hundred dollar bill into Ivy’s hand, pulling her forward into a one-armed hug. “I’ll call you tomorrow morning,” he said softly.

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 snowdrifts 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?”