“I liked Kisten,” she said bitterly.

Emotion welled, and I got even more angry that she’d try to make me feel guilty for wanting to move past his death. I tugged the afghan closer, ticked. “The only reason you liked him was because he got me to loosen up and sleep with a vamp,” I said sullenly.

“That’s part of it,” she said mildly.

“And because you knew he was never a real threat,” I added. “That if push came to shove, Kisten would back off. You used him.”

Ivy stiffened. Her fingers danced over the keys until she hit “send” with an excessive amount of force. “That, too,” she admitted softly—irritated. “But I. Also. Loved. Him.”

Suddenly I understood what this was about. Leaning back in my chair, I crossed my arms over my chest. “Spending time with Marshal is not betraying Kisten’s memory. Don’t you dare think badly of me for that. He’s just a guy, not my boyfriend. Ivy, you just spent the night with Rynn Cormel. Got a new scar?” I mocked.

I leaned forward to shift her collar, and her arm flashed to intercept me. Her arm met mine in a soft but certain whap, and I jerked back, surprised.

“He’s my master,” she said, her eyes dilating. “It’s expected.”

But she had turned, and there was a new, carefully given, red-rimmed bite. Something unexpected clenched in me, and Ivy’s pale complexion turned a soft blush. Damn it.

“Expected, hell. I know you enjoyed yourself,” I said hotly. “You enjoyed it, and there’s nothing wrong with that, but if you feel guilty about it, don’t take it out on me.”

Ivy’s long hand trembled. My heart gave a hard thump as she pushed from her computer and focused entirely on me in a familiar mix of anger and the sexual domination she used to protect herself. I met her angry expression with my glare, and a twinge came from my neck. I ignored it. The tips of her gold-highlighted hair shifted with her breath, and a feeling of unease rose behind me, like the creepy-crawly things that live under the bed that only kids know are there. The hair on the back of my neck prickled, and my jaw clenched as I fought the urge to turn. She was pulling a vampiric aura. She hadn’t done that in almost a year. My own eyes narrowed in anger even as I shuddered and my palms itched. Maybe it was time to remind her that this witch had teeth, too.

“He’s protecting me,” she said, her low voice swirling like gray silk. “Protecting us.”