I shook my head as I double-checked the recipe. “Transformations invoked by a potion last until you get a solid soaking in saltwater. If I wanted, I could transform using an amulet, break into the vault, take it off, find what I need as a human, and then put the amulet back on to get out. But I’m not going to.”

“Why not?”

She was just full of questions, and I looked up from adding the fuzz of a pussytoes plant. “Haven’t you ever used a transformation spell?” I questioned. “I thought vamps used them all the time to turn into bats and stuff.”

Ivy dropped her eyes. “Some do,” she said softly.

Obviously Ivy had never transformed. I wondered why. She certainly had the money for it. “It’s not a good idea to use an amulet for transforming,” I said. “I’d have to tie the amulet to me or wear it around my neck, and all my amulets are bigger than a mouse. Kind of awkward. And what if I was in a wall and dropped it? Witches have died from despelling back to normal and solidifying with extra parts—like a wall or cage.” I shuddered, giving the brew a quick clockwise stir. “Besides,” I added softly, “I won’t have any clothes on when I turn back.”

“Ha!” Ivy barked, and I jerked. “Now we hear the real reason. Rachel, you’re shy!”

What could I say to that? Mildly embarrassed, I closed my spell book and shelved it under the island with the rest of my new library. The timer dinged, and I blew out the flame. There wasn’t much liquid left. It wouldn’t take long to reach room temperature.

Wiping my hands off on my jeans, I reached across the clutter for a finger stick. Many a witch before the Turn had feigned a mild case of diabetes in order to get these little gems for free. I hated them, but it was better than using a knife to open a vein, as they had in less enlightened times. Poised to jab myself, I suddenly hesitated. Ivy couldn’t cross the circle, but last night was still very real in my thoughts. I’d sleep in a salt circle if I could, but the continuous connection to the ever-after would make me insane if I didn’t have a familiar to absorb the mental toxins the lines put out. “I—uh—need three drops of my blood to quicken it,” I said.

“Really?” Her look entirely lacked that intent expression that generally proceeded a vamp’s hunting aura. Still, I didn’t trust her.

I nodded. “Maybe you should leave.”

Ivy laughed. “Three drops drawn from a finger stick isn’t going to do anything.”

Still I hesitated. My stomach clenched. How could I be sure she knew her limits? Her eyes narrowed and red spots appeared on her pale cheeks. If I insisted she leave, she would take offense, I could tell. And I wasn’t about to show I was afraid of her. I was absolutely safe within my circle. It could stop a demon; stopping a vamp was nothing.