Her hand is on her neck, her eyes wide as they meet mine, and she looks at her palm. “What did you do? I know you did something.” She tries to push away from me.
I hold onto her.
“Ivy,” I say, knowing now is the time to pull her out of the darkness of ignorance. Ignorance is no longer safe for her.
“I need to call for help,” she says, her voice quaking. “I need—”
“Look at me,” I demand, a mental push in the command.
Her gaze collides with mine and I add, “There are monsters in the world, Ivy, and you know this more than you realize. That’s why you write about monsters. That’s why you write them well.”
She shakes her head. “No. No. This can’t be real.”
“We both know you know, that you’ve always known, it’s true.”
“We have to get help,” she whispers. “Jacob—”
“Is dead. There’s no saving him. His throat is ripped out. What matters is me getting you to safety so I can go hunt that wolf.”
“You can go hunt it?”
“I could wipe your memory and you wouldn’t know to feel the fear I know you feel right now, but that doesn’t keep you safe. I need you to understand that you’re in danger and I can protect you.”
“And who protects me from you?” she asks. “Because I know you bit me. I know you’re a monster, too.”
“You don’t need protection from me.”
“I don’t believe you,” she whispers.
Those words bite and it would be so easy to use our connection and show her the past, but saving her doesn’t mean she’s forced to live a life with me. And I won’t take her choice from her. I won’t force myself on her. “I swear to you, Ivy, I will never hurt you. I will only protect you.”
Rocco and Cam are suddenly on the scene on either side of us.
“Holy mother of Jesus,” Rocco growls. “Tell me the wolf is dead.”
“He’s not,” I say and when I would add to that, there’s a shift in the air.
Aware that there is another vampire in our presence, my eyes meet Ivy’s. “Stay behind me. Do not move if you want to live.” I release her and turn to find Elijah Gatlin standing a few feet away.
Elijah is an ancient vampire, equal to Marcus, a force to be reckoned with at six-foot-five with long, flowing dark hair. His eyes are the blue eyes of the ancients that he, unlike Marcus, doesn’t bother to mask.
He’s also Marcus’s enemy, which makes him our enemy. “What are you doing here, Elijah?” I demand while Rocco and Cam fall into place on either side of me.
“I’m not here for you,” he says. “I’m here for Grayson.”
Grayson being his right hand, his closest follower. With Grayson by his side, Elijah led a rebel attempt to take over the council that failed. That was when I was a young vampire, only ten years turned.
“Why hunt Grayson?” Rocco asks.
“Exactly,” Cam says. “I thought he was your follower.”
“He was,” he says. “Until he betrayed me. And I’m not hunting him,” he says, his eyes meeting mine. “You are.”
“Why am I hunting him?” I ask.
“Because he’s ridiculously prone to the foolish need for revenge. Me now, but first, it was you.”
Unease slides down my spine. “What does that mean?”
“It means, that when you were human, you beat him at a card game, and made him a fool in town. So, when I turned him, he came for you. And he came for your pretty little birthday girl, Ivy. And he came for Cam because he was your friend. None of you were supposed to live.”
My spine is stiff and what blood is in my body is boiling. “How do I know that’s the truth?”
His lips curve. “You’ll just have to trust me, but really, you should consider this a gift. He’s aligned himself with powerful witches that follow Ivy for him. This allows Grayson to find her without any boundaries created by life or death. He kills her every time she lives. Kill him to kill the cycle.” With that, he uses his ancient powers and simply disappears.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Eli
I don’t have time to process the revelation of Grayson being Ivy’s killer for more than two seconds when I sense Ivy at my back, turning away, running. Rocco takes off running too, but in the other direction, hunting the wolf. Cam stays with me but holds his ground. My focus is on Ivy. I’m in front of her before she gets four steps, catching her arms.
“Let me go,” she says, trying to step around me.
But I don’t let her go and I won’t, not when she’s in danger. I pull her into me and stare down at her. She doesn’t fight me, as if she knows that will get her nowhere. She’s calm. Cool. Angry. Her chin lifts in defiance as her eyes meet mine. “Let me go."
The words are weak when she is not. Anyone else would be melting down right now, but she stands strong and proud, ready to fight. On some level though, she knows I'm not the enemy. I feel it. She feels it.
“Ivy,” I say softly.
“I'm not her.”
I don't argue that point. Not here. Not now.
Instead, I offer her an escape, conflicted by my hope that she will take it and my desperate need for her to stay here with me, present in mind and body, to become mine again. “I can wipe your memories,” I offer, “and none of this will matter anymore. I can compel you to tell the police there was a bear and believe it. But I don’t want to do that. You can’t protect yourself from monsters you don’t know exist.”
“Like you?” she challenges.
I don’t know if she’s ready to hear that answer. “Choose now and I’ll wipe away your memories and you never have to know what I am. Or who I am.”
“Who are you?”
“Choose now,” I press. “Retain your memories or wipe this all away.”
She doesn’t ask about the consequences. She doesn’t refute my ability to do what I say I can do. She simply and firmly says, “I don’t want anything wiped away.”
Relief washes over me, but not guilt. Perhaps Elijah was lying, but everything inside me says he’s not. Grayson hates me beyond reason. So yes, I could spare Ivy this life by hiding her away, protecting her without ever taking her humanity, but that will be her choice after she knows the truth. “Tell the police it was a bear,” I repeat.
“Are they really going to believe that in downtown Denver?”
“They’re already talking about bear sightings on the police scanner. It’s Colorado. Crazier things have happened.”
“Right,” she says. “Fine. I’ll tell them it was a bear and not a werewolf because that’s what it was, wasn’t it?” She doesn’t wait for a response I can’t give her right now, adding, “And I’d sound crazy if I said that, now wouldn’t I? Like this was a stunt for one of my books.”
I study her a moment, and when I’m certain she’s committed to the plan, I release her and eye Cam. Cam dials the police. “It’s Cam Hendrix,” he says, “I’m a state law enforcement consultant. We have a bear mauling. Victim is deceased.” He offers the crossroads as directions and hangs up.