It was warm and stuffy. I could smell cold coffee. Star-bucks: two sugars, no cream. I opened my eyes to find a red stringy mass of my hair blocking my sight. My arm aching, I pushed it out of the way. It was quiet, with only the hushed sound of traffic and the familiar hum of Nick's alarm clock to break the stillness. I wasn't surprised to find I was in his bedroom, safe on my occasional side of the bed, facing both the window and the door. Nick's dilapidated dresser with the missing knob never looked so good.

The light slanting in past the drawn curtains was faint. I was guessing it was getting close to sunset. A glance at his clock showed 5:35. I knew it was accurate. Nick was a gadget guy, and the clock received a signal from Colorado every midnight to reset it from the atomic clock there. His watch was the same way. Why someone had to be that accurate was beyond me. I didn't even wear my wristwatch.

The gold and blue afghan Nick's mother had crocheted him was snuggled under my chin, smelling faintly of ivory soap. What I recognized as a pain amulet lay on the night-stand - right beside the finger stick. Nick thought of everything. If he could have invoked it, he would have.

I sat up looking for him, knowing by the scent of coffee that he was probably nearby. The afghan pooled about me as I swung my feet to the floor, Muscles protesting, I reached for the amulet. My ribs hurt and my back was sore. Head bowed, I pricked my finger for the three drops of blood to invoke the charm. Even before I slipped the cord over my head, I felt myself relax in immediate relief. It was all muscle aches and bruises, nothing that wouldn't heal.

I squinted in the artificial dusk. An abandoned coffee cup pulled my eyes to a slump of clothes on the chair. It moved in a gentle rhythm, becoming Nick asleep with his long legs sprawled out before him. He was sock-footed, since he wouldn't let shoes on his carpet, and his big feet pulled a smile from me.

I sat, content to do nothing for the moment. Nick's day started six hours earlier than mine, and a faint stubble made early shadows on his long face slack in slumber. His chin rested on his chest, his short black hair falling to hide his eyes. They opened as a primitive part of him felt my gaze on him. My smile grew as he stretched in the chair, a sigh slipping from him.

"Hi, Ray-ray," he said, his voice pooling like brown puddle-warm water about my ankles. "How are you doing?"

"I'm okay." I was embarrassed that he had witnessed what happened, embarrassed he'd saved me, and heartily glad he had been there to do both.

He came to sit beside me, his weight making me slide into him. My breath made a relieved, contented sound as I fell against him. He put his arm around me and gave me a sideways squeeze. I rested my head against his shoulder, taking the scent of old books and sulfur deep into me. Slowly my heartbeat became obvious as I sat and did nothing, taking strength simply from his presence.

"Are you sure you're all right?" he asked, his hand buried deep in my hair as he held me.

I pulled away to look at him. "Yes. Thanks. Where's Ivy?" He didn't say anything, and my face went slack in alarm. "She didn't hurt you, did she?"

His hand dropped from my hair. "She's on the floor where I left her."

"Nick!" I protested, pushing myself away from him so I could sit straight. "How could you just leave her there?" I stood, looking for my bag and realizing he hadn't brought it. I was still barefoot, too. "Take me home," I said, knowing the bus wouldn't pick me up.

Nick had risen when I did. His face flashed into alarm and his eyes dropped. "Shit," he said under his breath. "I'm sorry. I thought you said no to her." His gaze flicked to mine and away, his long face looking pained, disappointed, and red with embarrassment. "Aw, shit, shit, shit," he muttered. "I'm really sorry. Yeah. Yeah, come on. I'll get you home. Maybe she hasn't woken up yet. I'm really, really sorry. I thought you said no. Oh God. I shouldn't have interfered. I thought you said no!"

He was hunched with discomfort, and bewildered, I reached out and pulled him back before he could walk out the bedroom door. "Nick?" I said as he jerked to a halt. "I did say no."

Nick's eyes widened even farther. His lips parted and he stood there, seeming unable to even blink. "But ...you want to go back?"

I sat on the bed and looked up at him. "Well, yeah. She's my friend." I gestured in disbelief. "I can't believe you just left her lying there!"

Nick hesitated, confusion thick in his pinched eyes. "But I saw what she tried to do," he said. "She almost bit you, and you want to go back?"

My shoulders slumped and I dropped my gaze to the stain-spotted, ugly yellow carpet. "It was my fault," I said softly. "We were sparring and I was angry." I glanced up. "Not with her. With Edden. Then she got cocky, and it ticked me off, so I jumped her, catching her off guard...landed on her back, pulled her head back by her hair and breathed on her neck."

His lips pressed together, Nick lowered himself to sit on the edge of the chair and put his elbows on his knees. "Let me get this straight. You decided to spar with her while you were angry. You waited until you were both emotionally charged, and then you jumped her?" He exhaled loudly through his nose. "Are you sure you didn't want her to bite you?"

I made a sour face at him. "I did say it wasn't her fault." Not wanting to argue with him, I got up and moved his arms to make a spot for me in his lap. He made a surprised grunt, then curved his arms about me as I sat down. I tucked my head against his cheek and shoulder, breathing in his masculine scent. The memory of the vamp-saliva-induced euphoria flickered through me and was gone. I hadn't wanted her to bite me - I hadn't - but a niggling thought wouldn't go away that the baser, pleasure-driven side of me might have. I had known better. It hadn't been her fault. And as soon as I could convince myself of that and get out of Nick's lap, I was going to call and tell her so.

I snuggled and listened to the traffic as Nick ran a hand over my head. He seemed inordinately relieved. "Nick?" I questioned. "What would you have done if I hadn't said no?"

He took a slow breath. "Put your spell pot just inside the door and left," he said, his voice rumbling up through me.

I straightened, and he winced as my body weight shifted against him. "You would have let her tear out my throat?"

He wouldn't meet my eyes. "Ivy wouldn't have drained you and left you for dead," he said reluctantly. "Even in the frenzy you had her whipped up to. I heard what she offered you. That was no one night stand. It was a life commitment."

My demon scar tingled at his words, and frightened, I pushed the feeling away. "Just how long were you standing there?" I asked, going cold with the thought that the nightmare might have been far more than Ivy simply losing control.

His grip around me tightened as his eyes failed to reach mine. "Long enough to hear her ask to make you her scion. I wasn't going to stand in your way if it was something you wanted."

My mouth dropped open and I pulled my arm from around behind him. "You would have walked away and let her make me into a plaything?"

A flash of anger flickered in his brown eyes. "A scion, Rachel. Not a shadow or plaything, or even a thrall. There's a world of difference."

"You would have walked away?" I exclaimed, not willing to get out of his lap for fear pride might make me leave his apartment. "You would have done nothing?"

His jaw clenched but he made no move to dump me onto the floor. "I am not the one living in a church with a vamp!" he said. "I don't know what you want. I can only go on what you tell me and what I see. You live with her. You date me. What am I supposed to think?"

I said nothing, and he added in a softer voice, "What Ivy wants is not wrong or unusual, it's a cold, scary fact. She's going to need a trustworthy scion in about forty years or so, and she likes you. To tell you the truth, it's a damn fine offer. But you had better make up your mind as to what you want before time and vamp pheromones make it for you." His voice grew halting, reluctant. "You wouldn't be a plaything. Not with Ivy. And you would be safe with her, untouchable by just about every nasty thing Cincinnati has."

Gaze distant, my thoughts lit on small, seemingly unrelated instances of friction between Ivy and Nick, seeing them in a new light. "She's been hunting me all this time," I whispered, feeling the first hints of real fear.

The wrinkles around Nick's eyes creased. "No. It's not just blood she's after, though an exchange is involved. But I have to be honest. You complement each other like no vamp and scion pair I've seen." A flicker of unknown emotion swelled and died within his eyes. "It's a chance at greatness - if you're willing to give up your dreams and bind yourself to hers. You would always be second. But you would be second to a vamp slated to rule Cincinnati."

Nick's hand ceased its motion over my hair. "If I made a mistake," he said carefully, not looking at me, "and you want to be her scion, then fine. I'll drive you and your toothbrush home and walk away, letting you two finish what I interrupted." His hand began moving again. "My only regret will be that I wasn't enough to lure you away from her."

My eyes drifted across Nick's hodgepodge of furniture, hearing the busy traffic outside his apartment. It was so unlike Ivy's church with its wide open spaces and breathing room. All I had wanted was to be her friend. She desperately needed one, unhappy with herself and wanting to be something more, something clean and pure, something untouched and unsullied. She was trying so hard to escape her vampiric existence, and I knew she harbored a belief that someday I might find a spell to help her. I couldn't leave and destroy the one thing that kept her going. God save me if I was a fool, but I admired her indomitable will and belief that someday she'd find what she sought.

Despite the potential threat she posed, her asinine demands for organization, and her strict adherence to structure, she was the first person I'd roomed with who said nothing about my mind-slips, like draining the water heater or neglecting to turn off the heat before opening the windows. I'd lost too many friends over such petty arguments. I didn't want to be alone anymore. The scary thing was that Nick was right. We did do well together.

And now I had a new fear. I hadn't realized the threat of my vamp scar until she told me. Marked for pleasure and unclaimed. Passed from vampire to vampire until I begged to be bled. Remembering the waves of euphoria and how hard it had been to say no, I saw how easy Ivy's prediction could turn real. Though she hadn't bitten me, I was sure the word on the streets was that I was taken goods and to back off. Damn. How did I get to this place?

"Do you want me to take you back?" Nick whispered, pulling me close.

I shifted my shoulder to mold myself into him. If I was smart, I'd ask his help in moving my stuff out of the church tonight, but what came out of my mouth was a small, "Not yet. I'll call to make sure she's all right, though. I'm not going to be her scion, but I can't leave her to be alone. I said no, and I think she'll respect that."

"What if she doesn't?"

I tucked in closer. "I don't know.... Maybe I'll put a bellon her."

He chuckled, but I thought I heard a trace of pain in it. I felt his amusement fade. His chest shifted my head as he breathed. What happened had scared me more than I wanted to admit. "You aren't under a death threat anymore," he whispered. "Why don't you leave?"

I didn't move, hearing his heartbeat. "I don't have the money," I protested softly. We'd been over this before.

"I told you that you can move in with me."

I smiled, though he couldn't see it, my cheek scraping against his cotton shirt. His apartment was small, but that wasn't why I had always kept our sleepovers to the weekends. He had his own life, and I would get in his way if he had to take me in more than small doses. "It would last for a week, and then we would hate each other," I said, knowing from experience it was true. "And I'm the only thing keeping her from falling back into being a practicing vamp."

"So let her fall. She's a vampire."

I sighed, not finding the strength to get angry. "She doesn't want to be. I'll be more careful. It'll be all right." I put a confident, persuasive tone in my voice, but was left wondering if I was trying to convince him or me.

"Rachel..." Nick breathed, his breath shifting the hair atop my head. I waited, almost able to hear him trying to decide whether he should say anything more. "The longer you stay," he said reluctantly, "the harder it's going to be to resist the vamp-induced euphoria. That demon that attacked you last spring pumped more vamp saliva into you than a master vampire. If witches could be turned, you'd be one by now. As it is, I think Ivy could bespell you simply by saying your name. And she's not even dead yet. You're making unsafe rationalizations for staying in an unsafe situation. If you think you will ever want to leave, you should go now. Believe me, I know how good a vampire scar feels when a vamp's need kicks in. I know how deep the lie goes, and how strong the lure."

I sat up, my hand going to cover my neck. "You know?"

His eyes went sheepish. "I went to high school in the Hollows. You don't think I got through that without being bitten at least once?"

My brow rose at his almost guilty look. "You have a vamp bite? Where?"

He wouldn't meet my eyes. "It was a summer fling. And she wasn't dead so I didn't contract the vamp virus. There wasn't much saliva in it to begin with, so it stays pretty quiet unless I get in a situation where there are a lot of vampire pheromones. It's a trap. You know that, don't you?"

I slumped back into him, nodding. Nick was safe. His scar was old and made by a living vampire barely out of adolescence. Mine was new and laced with so much neurotoxin that Piscary could set it into play with just the weight of his eyes. Nick went still, and I wondered if his scar had flamed to life when he'd walked into the church. It might explain why he had said nothing and simply watched. How good had his scar felt? I wondered, unable to blame him.

"Where is it?" I asked slowly. "Your vamp scar?"

Nick jiggled me farther up onto his lap. "Never mind that - witch," he said playfully.

I suddenly became very aware of him pressing up against me, his arms draped around me to keep me from falling off. I glanced at the clock. I had to go to my mom's and get my old ley line stuff before I could do my homework. If I didn't do it tonight, it wouldn't get done. My gaze tilted to Nick's, and he smiled. He knew why I was looking at the clock.

"Is this it?" I asked. Shifting on his lap, I pulled the collar of his shirt aside to show a faint white scar on his upper shoulder from a deep scratch.

He grinned. "I don't know."

"Mmmm," I said. "Bet I could tell." As he laced his hands to cradle me about the hips, I undid the top button of his shirt. The angle was awkward, and I shifted to straddle his lap, my knees to either side of him. His hands moved to hold me a trifle lower, and arching my eyebrows at our new position, I leaned closer. My fingers went behind his neck and I nuzzled aside his collar to set my lips against the scar, leaving it with an audible pop.

Nick took a noisy breath, shifting under me into more of a slouch so he wouldn't have to hold me from falling. "That's not it," he said. His hand went to my back, tracing a trail down my spine, bumping as he found the waistband of my sweats.

"Okay," I murmured as his fingers tugged the hem of my sweatshirt. He reached up under it, his fingertips making a long tingle across my skin. "I know it isn't this one." Bending over him, I let my hair fall about his chest as I flicked my tongue against first one then the second puncture mark I had given him when I'd been a mink and thought he was a rat trying to kill me. He said nothing, and I carefully worried the three-month-old scar with gentle teeth.

"No," he said, his voice suddenly strained. "You gave me those."

"That's right," I breathed, my lips grazing his neck as I steadily worked my way to his ear with little hop-kisses. "Hmmm..." I breathed. "I guess I'll have to do some investigating. You are aware, Mr. Sparagmos, that I am professionally trained in the field of investigation?"

He said nothing, his free hand making a delicious sensation as he traced a path along the small of my back, testing.

I pulled back, and his hands followed the curves of my waist under my sweatshirt with an increasing pressure. I was glad it was near dark. So still and warm. An eager anticipation was in his gaze, and leaning forward to brush the tips of my hair over his face, I whispered, "Close your eyes."

His entire body shifted as he sighed, doing as I asked.

Nick's touch became more insistent, and I settled my forehead into the crook between his neck and shoulder. Eyes closed, I felt for the buttons on his shirt, enjoying the rising feeling of expectation as each one gave way. I struggled with the last, tugging his shirt out from his jeans.

His hands fell from me and he twisted to pull his shirt free. I tilted my head and gently bit his earlobe. "Don't you dare help," I whispered, his lobe still between my teeth. I shivered as he resumed his touch, his hands warm against my back. All the buttons were undone, and I ran my lips across the faint notches rimming his ear.

With a quick motion he reached up, pulling my face to his. His lips were demanding. A soft sound urged me to respond. Had it been him or me? Don't know. Don't care. One hand was buried deep in my hair, holding me to him as his lips and tongue explored. His motions grew aggressive, and I pushed him back into the chair, liking his rough touch. He hit the slats with a thump, pulling me down with him.

His stubble was prickly, and lips still on mine, he reached around, pulling me close. With a grunt of effort, he lurched to his feet, carrying me. My legs wrapped around him as he moved us to the bed. My lips felt cold as he pulled away, setting me down gently. His arms slipped from me as he knelt over me.

I looked up at him, his shirt still on, but open to show lean muscles running down to disappear beneath his waistband. I had tossed one of my arms artfully over my head, and I reached up with the other to draw a line from his chest downward, tugging at his jeans.

Button fly, I thought in a wash of impatience. God help me. I hated button fly. His dusky smile faltered and he almost shuddered as I gave up for a moment and reached behind him, tracing the curve of his back, following it as far as I could reach. It wasn't nearly far enough, and I pulled him down toward me. Slumping forward, Nick supported himself on the flat of a forearm. A sigh escaped me as I got my hands to where I wanted them to be.

Warm, and with the delightful mix of gentle pressure and rough skin, Nick sent his hand searching under my shirt. I ran my hand over his shoulders, feeling his muscles bunch and ease. He scooted lower, and I gasped in surprised as he nuzzled my midriff, his teeth searching for the hem of my sweatshirt.

My breath came faster, and a whispered pant of anticipation slipped from me as he tugged my shirt upward, his hands pushing against my waist. Hasty with a sudden need, I dropped my hands from fumbling at his button fly to help him get my shirt off. It scraped my nose in passing, taking my amulet with it. My held breath slipped out in a sound of relief. Nick's teeth were a teasing hint as he tugged at my tight-fitting exercise bra. I shuddered, arching my upper back in encouragement.

He buried his face at the base of my neck. My demon scar, running from my collarbone to my ear, gave a knife-edged pulse of feeling, and I froze into a frightened wariness. It had never done that before when I'd been with Nick. I didn't know whether to enjoy it or lump the feeling in with the terror of the scar's origin.

Sensing my sudden fear, Nick slowed, his body nudging mine once, twice, then halting. In a slow stillness, he brushed my scar with his lips. I couldn't move as waves of promise raced through me, settling low and insistent in my body. My heart pounded as I compared it to Ivy's vamppheromone induced ecstasy and found it identical. It felt too good to dismiss out of hand.

Nick hesitated, his breath harsh in my ear. Slowly the feeling ebbed. "Should I stop?" he whispered, his voice husky with need.

I closed my eyes, reaching downward to work almost frantically at his button fly. "No," I moaned. "It almost hurts. Be - careful."

His breath came in a quick sound, matching mine. More insistent, he ran a hand under my bra and made soft kisses against my scarred neck. An unhelped sound escaped me as I got the last of his buttons undone.

Nick's lips ghosted up the underside of my chin and found my mouth. His touch was gentle, and I lunged my tongue deep into him. He pushed back, his stubble harsh. Our breath came in tandem. His continuing gentle fingers on my neck sent a sudden spasm through me.

I traced my hands down his open shirt to find his jeans. Breath fast, I pushed his clothes down to where I could hook my foot into them and push them all the way off. Hungry for him, I sent my hands searching, stretching to find what I wanted.

Nick's breath caught as I grasped him, feeling the tight, smooth skin between my fingers and thumb. His head dropped from mine, burying it between my breasts, nuzzling, as my bra had somehow disappeared.

He pushed his hips against me, hinting, and I pushed pack. My heart pounded. Strong and insistent, my scar sent waves through me, though Nick's searching lips were nowhere near it.

I abandoned myself to the demon scar, letting the feeling flow through me. I'd figure out later if it was wrong or not. My hands quickened their motion against him, feeling the difference between him and a male witch, finding it roused me further. Leaving one hand to caress him, I grasped the hand not supporting his weight over me and led him to the drawstring on my sweats.

He snatched my wrist, pinning it up over my head on the pillow, refusing to accept my help. A jolt struck through me. He nipped at my neck and darted away, the barest hint of teeth bringing a gasp from me. Nick's hands tugged at my waistband, pulling my sweats and underwear off in a fierce need. I arched my back to help free them from my hips, and a heavy hand pinned my shoulder to the bed.

I opened my eyes, and Nick leaned over me and breathed, "My job, witch." But my sweats were gone.

I reached downward for him, and he shifted his weight, nudging his knee against the inside of my thigh. Again I arched my lower back, reaching, straining to find him. He fell to cover me. His lips on mine, we begin to move against each other.

Slowly, almost tauntingly, he moved inside of me. I clutched at his shoulders, racked with tingling jolts as his lips found my neck.

"My wrist," he panted in my ear. "Oh God, Rachel. She bit my wrist."

The surges of feeling came in time with our bodies' rhythm as I hungrily found his wrist. He moaned as I fastened on it. I grazed my teeth across it, sucking hungrily as he did the same on my neck. The ache rose in me, and out of my mind in need, I bit Nick's old scar, making it mine, trying to take it away from the one who first marked him.

Pain shot through my neck, and I cried out. Nick hesitated, then again pinched a fold of scarred skin between his teeth. I did the same with his wrist to tell him it was all right. Silent with a desperate need, his mouth lunged hungrily into me. Want crept up from within. I felt it swell. I seduced it closer, willing it to happen. Now, I thought, almost crying. Oh God. Make it now.

Together Nick and I shuddered, our bodies responding as one as a wave of euphoria washed from me into him. It rebounded, striking me with twofold strength. I gasped, clutching at him. He groaned as if in pain. Again the wave took us, pulling us back. Poised, we hung at the point of climax, trying to hold it forever.

Slowly it ebbed, jolts of dying pleasure sending tremors through us both as the tension eased from us in stages. Nick's weight gradually pressed down atop me. His breath was rough in my ear. Exhausted, I made a conscious effort to unkink my hands from his shoulder. The imprints of my fingers made red lines on his skin.

I lay for a moment, feeling a dying tingle from my neck. Then it was gone. I ran my tongue along the inside of my teeth. No blood. I hadn't broken his skin. Thank God.

Still atop me, Nick shifted his weight so I could breathe easier. "Rachel?" he whispered. "I think you almost killed me."

Breath slowing, I said nothing, thinking I could forego my three-mile run today. My heartbeat eased, filling me with a relaxed lassitude. I pulled his wrist close, eyeing the old scar showing a stark white against the red, roughened skin. I felt a twinge of embarrassment to see I had given him a hickey. No guilt, though, for having marked him. He'd probably known what would happen better than I had, and my neck was undoubtedly in a similar state.

Did I care? Not right now. Maybe later when my mom spotted it.

I gave his tender skin a kiss and set his arm down. "Why did it feel like one of us was a vampire?" I asked. "My demon scar was never that sensitive before. And you?" I left my sentence unfinished. I had nibbled a good share of his body over the last two months and never provoked such a response in him. Not that I was complaining.

Looking exhausted, he eased himself off me and fell groaning on the bed. "Must have been from Ivy getting things started," he said, his eyes closed as he faced the ceiling. "I'm going to be sore tomorrow."

I grabbed the afghan and pulled it to cover me, cold now without his body heat. Shifting to my side, I leaned close and whispered, "Sure you want me to move out of the church? I think I'm beginning to see why threesomes are so popular in the vamp circles."

Nick's eyes opened as he grunted. "You are trying to kill me, aren't you?"

Chuckling, I stood, wrapping the afghan around me. My fingers touched my neck to find the skin sore but unbroken. I wouldn't say it had been wrong to take advantage of the sensitivities Ivy set into play, but the vehement need of it had me concerned. Almost too exquisitely intense to control... No wonder Ivy had such a hard time.

Thoughts slow and speculative, I dug about in the bottom drawer of Nick's dresser for one of his old shirts and made my way to his shower.