The Outlaw Demon Wails (23 page)

“Life is too short to not be with the people you love,” she said. “Even if it scares you.”

She was back to Ivy. “Mom, I'm not going to let Ivy bite me again, even if we did okay.” She took a breath to speak some words of wisdom, and I interrupted. “Really. She lost it for a minute, and then I made things worse when I remembered Kisten's killer attacking me. I thought—” I ran my tongue along the inside of my lip. “I thought his murderer had bound me, but he didn't.”
Thank you, God. I
promise
I will be good.
“It ended okay, but I can't do it again,” I finished, my throat tight. “I can't risk it…anymore.”

A smile of relief creased my mother's face. Her eyes went bright with unshed tears, and she gave my hand a squeeze. “Good,” she said. “I'm glad you feel that way. But just because you can't share blood with Ivy doesn't mean you have to end everything with her. She's been too good for you. Made you grow up a little. I like her. She needs you, and you're better with her than without.”

I stared as I tried to figure out what she was saying.

“I know I haven't been the best mom,” she said as she let go of my hand and looked out the window. “But I'd like to believe I raised you to think for yourself, though you do precious little of it sometimes. I trust you to make good decisions when it comes to the people around you.” She smiled. “And what you do with them.”

Just where has she been the last ten years? My decisions suck dishwater.
“Mom.”

“Marshal, for instance,” she said, and I stared, shocked.
She knows about Marshal?

“He's nice,” she continued, gazing out the window at nothing. “Too nice to be anything but a rebound guy, but he'd be good for you. Bless Kisten's undead soul, but I was never too keen on him. Two vampires in one room with a witch is asking for trouble. Now, two witches and one vampire…” Her eyes danced. “Does Ivy like him?”

God, just kill me now.

“Ivy knows she can't give you everything, you know,” my mother continued as if I wasn't blushing so hard I could set hell on fire. “She's wise beyond her years for being able to put aside her jealousy like that. It's so much easier when everyone understands you can love two people
at the same time.” She flushed. “For different reasons and in different ways.”

For a moment, I couldn't speak, trying to process that. There were too many potential problems lying in wait for me to ask. “You know about Marshal?” I finally got out.

Touching her hair as if flustered, she rose and went to the fridge. “He came over about noon to see if you were all right.”

Swell. He was here?

My mother pulled a butterscotch pie from the fridge. “We had a nice talk about you and Ivy,” she said as she set the pie on the counter and got out two plates. “We talked about a lot of things. I think he understands now. I sure as hell do. He is coming off a bitch of a bad girlfriend. That's why he likes you.”

“Mom!” I exclaimed.

“No, you're not a bitch,” she cajoled. “I meant that you're excitable and fun. He thinks you're safe because you're not looking for a boyfriend.” She laughed with a knife in her hand. “Men are idiots about women sometimes. When a woman says she's not looking, that's when she is.”

“Mom!”
They talked about Ivy and me? She asked him about his girlfriends?

“I'm just saying that he's like you, in that he gets bored if a relationship is all roses and hearts. It doesn't help that he likes to rescue pretty women. That's probably why he looked you up. He doesn't want a real girlfriend yet any more than you do, but he's not going to sit at home and watch TV. He's taking you out today. You both need a break.”

“Mom, stop!” I exclaimed again. “I told you not to set up dates for me, and especially not with Marshal!”

“You're welcome, sweetheart,” she said, patting my shoulder. “Get this little fling over with so you can move on with your life. Try not to hurt him, okay?”

I stared at my hands circling my coffee mug, speechless. This was not good. “How did he know where I was?” I asked, depressed. Little fling? I
so
did not need a date right now.

“Jenks was with him.”

I exhaled long and slow as I pulled my fingers from worrying at my new bites.
That would explain it
, I thought. The soft scrape of the serving knife on the glass pie dish was obvious and she silently put two slices on plates and licked the serving fork. Still silent, she set the largest piece before me. “Jenks said he knocked Ivy unconscious by accident. It didn't sound like a sleep charm,” she said, her voice sharp with accusation.

Embarrassed by my failed attempt at tweaking charms, I shifted my plate until the pie was pointing at me. This wasn't a topic I really wanted to explore, but it was better than Marshal. “I was trying to modify a sleep charm to give Ivy some control over her blood lust, but she lied to me about trying them out, so the last batch was too strong. Jenks overreacted by hitting her with it in the first place. We were fine. We had everything under control.”
By the time he showed back up, that is
, I finished silently.

My eyes came up to see only interest in my mother's gaze. She set a fork in front of me. Her plate in her hand, she leaned against the counter, looking years younger. “You're starting with a sleep charm as your base?” She smiled after seeing my nod and pointed her fork at me. “Well,
there's
your problem. If you're trying to break the hold her instincts have on her actions, you need to make her hyperalert, not sleepy.”

I wedged a forkful of pie into my mouth and chewed in thought. The rich tang of butterscotch was sharp, and I ate another bite. Pie for breakfast was one of the perks of a crazy mom. “A stimulant would work better?” I mumbled.

“Guaranteed.”

Confidence emanated from her, but I wasn't convinced, and I cringed at the thought of what would happen if it didn't have the desired effect. Besides, it didn't matter anymore. I was going to be the model roommate and never trigger Ivy's blood lust again. That is, if she didn't get mad and leave, ticked at all the time she had wasted on me. But if she stayed, she might someday want a little something to take the edge off….

My mother came to sit across from me, her eyes on her pie. “Throw in a lot of crushed lime. Citrus sends everything deep, and you want to stimulate the complex thought processes, not the surface ones.”

“Okay,” I said, my gaze flicking to my disguise charms. She was the expert. “Thanks.”

Her smile widened, and she became almost teary. “I want to help, honey. I'm sorry if I've been so odd in the past that you felt you couldn't come to me.”

I smiled back, feeling warm inside. “I'm sorry, too.”

She reached out and patted my hand. “Marshal is worried about you. I'm glad you're being honest with him about how dangerous your life is. More honest than with me, I hope.”

Here we go. More guilt.
“I didn't want you to worry,” I almost whined at my pie. God! I hated it when my voice did that.

Giving my closed fist a sharp tap so that her wedding ring hit my knuckle, she withdrew her hand. “I know how deep in the shit pit you usually are, but tell him before he starts to really like you.”

“Mom!”

She sighed then, following it up with a glum “Sorry.”

I hid behind a bite of pie. “I'm okay,” I mumbled. “We're doing okay.”

Again she smiled, becoming my usual mother once more. “I know you are.”

We both looked up when the doorbell rang. “That would be Marshal,” she said as she rose and tugged her sweater straight. “I told him I'd have you up and ready for your date by three thirty. You still have time before you have to be back on hallowed ground, and a distraction is just what Dr. Mom ordered.”

I looked at the pie, then picked up the half I had yet to eat. “Mom,” I protested around a full mouth as I followed her down the hall, “I can't. I have to go home and prep for a run. I've got a lead on who might be summoning Al, and I'm going to lean on them tomorrow. Besides, I'm not ready for a boyfriend.”

My mother stopped in the long green hallway, surrounded by pictures of my and Robbie's lives, images of the past that she drew strength from. I could see a masculine shadow moving outside on the steps, but my mother put herself right in front of me, filling my world. I was unable to look away from the old regret in her eyes.

“That is exactly why you need to go out with him,” she said, her grip on my shoulder tightening to keep me silent. “Prep your spells later. You're strung out to the snapping point, sweetheart. You need to do something different to give your mind a rest, and Marshal is a good man. He's not going to break your heart or take advantage of you. Just…go do something with him. Anything.” Her mouth quirked. “Well, maybe not anything.”

“Mom…,” I protested, but she stepped quickly to the door and opened it. Marshal was waiting, and he took us both in, his attention going back and forth, comparing us as we stood side-by-side. Flustered, I set the pie on the top of the hall bookcase and wiped my hands on my jeans. I didn't think it was the pie that had his eyebrows so high. My mother and I looked a lot alike, apart from our hair and how we dressed.

“Hi, Mrs. Morgan,” he said, smiling, and then said to me, “Rachel.”

My mom smiled like the Mona Lisa, and I rolled my eyes, seeing his big-ass SUV at the curb. “Hi,” I said dryly. “I hear you met my mom already.”

“Marshal and I looked at your baby pictures while you were sleeping,” she said, then stepped back. “Come on in. We're eating pie.”

Marshal glanced at the half-eaten slice above our heads and smiled. Cracking his neck, he stepped in just far enough to shut the door. “Thanks, Mrs. Morgan, but if I'm going to get Rachel back to the church before sunset, we really need to go now.”

“He's right,” I said, not wanting to endure an hour of humiliation at my mother's hand. Besides, the sooner we left, the sooner I could apologize for my mom and he could make his escape. I wasn't going on a date when Ivy was home thinking she screwed up again. She hadn't. We had ended the entire freaking mess in success before Jenks screwed it up. But that didn't mean I was going to let her break my skin again. I had to stop saying a decision was good just because it made me feel better. But being good, really good, really sucked.

“Oh!” my mom chirped. “Your coat. I think you left your bag in the kitchen, too.”

She hustled down the hall, and Marshal looked over my shoulder
when I heard the dryer door open. I shifted in the reflected green light of the hallway, uncomfortable not knowing what they'd talked about. My pie sat over us, and I wondered if he'd mind if I ate it.

“I'm really sorry about this,” I said, sending my attention down the empty hall. “It's my mom's mission in life to find a boyfriend for me, and she doesn't listen when I tell her to stop.”

Marshal's gaze shifted over the pictures before him with interest. “It was my idea.”

A warning flag went up in me. He had to know what had happened after he left at sunrise this morning. I mean, he
had
talked to Jenks, and the bite marks on my neck were obvious. If it had been me, I would have been halfway to Mackinaw by now.

Marshal's gaze was on my favorite picture of me in the fall leaves when he said, “Jenks wanted me to tell you Ivy said she'll be out late tonight, getting her old friends sugared enough to talk about the night your boyfriend died.”

The hesitation before he took a breath told me he had wanted to add something, but he stayed silent. “Thank you,” I said cautiously, trying to figure it out.

“She said she'd be back by sunup,” he added, and I shifted to make room for my mom as she approached, my coat over her arm, my bag in one hand and a slice of pie on a napkin in the other.

Maybe he thinks he can rescue me? No one is that stupid.

“Thanks, Mom,” I said, taking my coat and bag as Marshal flushed and made awkward comments about the pie she was pushing at him. The cooler air coming in had tripped the furnace, and I shrugged into my coat to relish the warmth soaking into me.

My mom beamed, her gaze running over both of us. “I put your costume charms in your purse,” she said as she wound a red scarf around my neck to hide the red-rimmed marks made by Ivy's teeth. “You forgot them Sunday. Oh, and that nice Were called while you were sleeping. He wants to pick you up tomorrow at one. He says wear something nice.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

“Have fun!” she finished cheerfully.

But I didn't want to have fun. I wanted to find out who had killed Kisten and tried to bind me.

“Wait, wait,” my mom said as she opened the closet door and pulled out my battered pair of white roller skates. “Take these. I'm tired of them being in my closet,” she said, looping them over my arm and handing me the rest of my pie from the top of the bookcase. “Enjoy yourselves.” She gave me a kiss, whispering, “Call me after sunset so I don't worry?”

“Promise,” I said, thinking I was an insensitive brat of a daughter. She was scatterbrained, not stupid, and she had put up with a lot of crap from me. Especially lately.

“'Bye, Mom,” I called out as Marshal opened the door and preceded me down the two steps and to the walk. He'd already eaten a bite of the pie, and his mouth was full. “Thanks for everything,” I added, laughing when Marshal made a noise of bliss. My mom made excellent pie.

“Wow, this is great,” he said, turning to give my mom a smile. I felt good all of a sudden. My mom was cool. I didn't appreciate her enough.

I eyed the two vehicles at the curb, my little convertible looking like a drop of red lightning next to Marshal's big, obnoxious SUV. “Marshal…,” I started, thinking I really had to get home and work in the kitchen.