Ivy drifted up from the next rack over. Her motions edged into vamp speed as she concentrated, shuffling through the clothes using a rating system I had no concept of. We had always enjoyed shopping together, but when I’d suggested that we go out this afternoon, she had agreed with surprising reluctance. I think she knew I was trying to lull her into a good mood before I tried talking to her about yesterday morning. She still hadn’t given me any sign of being ready to discuss it, but the longer it took, the more lame my reasoning would sound.

Shopping together wouldn’t get her anywhere near a good enough mood to calmly accept my vow that she would never break my skin again, but I had to start somewhere. Much as I hated it, I had to grow up. I couldn’t risk my life anymore for something as fleeting as ecstasy, even if it fostered a stronger relationship with Ivy. The fact that we had brought everything back down to normal before Jenks butted in had lost much of its impact, seeing as I had had to hurt her before she could regain control of her blood lust. Jenks had been right that she wasn’t ready, and I wasn’t going to risk having to hurt her again.

She had done better, fantastically so, but Ivy’s instincts were still stronger than her will. That alone wouldn’t have been enough to sway my decision—what had forced my decision was that terrifying thirty seconds of me thinking I’d been bound.

I had to start making smart, crushing decisions. In a perfect world, maybe we could have done what we wanted without consequence, but it wasn’t a perfect world. Just like in a perfect world I’d have been able to go out tonight. But the reality was I couldn’t chance it. I didn’t trust Tom to be smart.

And being smart sucked, I thought glumly as I looked at the silvery black top. I had a lot more fun when I was stupid.

I glanced at Ivy, whose brow was furrowed. Maybe after coffee and cookies…with a pint of double-chocolate monkey ice cream nearby in case of emergency.

“This is nice,” Ivy said as she held up the same bit of black lace I had just put back. “Not for my costume, but I still like it.”

“Try it on,” I prompted, and she turned to the nearby dressing room with it. My smile faded when she disappeared behind the door, but we could still talk since her head showed. Tired, I flopped into the cushy chairs they had for bored boyfriends and stared at the ceiling. The long length of my neck pulled at the healing bites, and I shifted the complexion amulet to make sure it was in place.