The Hollows Series Books 1-4. Kim Harrison
as it hit its face. Reminded of Ivy’s saliva on my neck, I shuddered.
Its eyes went wide in pleasure. “You’re afraid of the soulless shadows,” it whispered in delight. “You’re afraid of dying in the loving embrace of a soulless shadow. Your death is going to be a pleasure for both of us, Rachel Mariana Morgan. Such a twisted way to die—in pleasure. It might have been better for your soul had you been afraid of dogs.”
I lashed out, striking its face to leave four scratch marks. It didn’t flinch. Blood oozed out, too thick and red. It twisted both my arms behind me, gripping my wrists with one hand. Nausea doubled me over as it pulled on my arm and shoulder. It pushed me up against the wall, crushing me. I got my good hand free and swung.
It caught my wrist before I could reach it. I met its gaze and felt my knees go weak. The gentleman’s frock had shrunk to a leather jacket and black pants. Blond hair and a lightly stubbled face replaced its ruddy complexion. Twin earrings caught the light. Kisten smiled at me, a red tongue beckoning. “You have a taste for vamps, little witch?” it whispered.
I twisted, trying to get away. “Not quite right,” it murmured, and I struggled as its features shifted yet again. It grew smaller, only a head taller than I. Its hair grew long and straight and black. The blond stubble vanished, and the complexion paled to a ghost. Kisten’s square jaw smoothed out to an oval.
“Ivy,” I whispered, going slack in terror.
“You give me a name,” it said, its voice becoming slow and feminine. “You want this?”
I tried to swallow. I couldn’t move. “You don’t scare me,” I whispered.
Its eyes flashed black. “Ivy does.”
I stiffened, trying to jerk away as it brought my wrist closer. “No!” I screamed as it opened its mouth to show fangs. It bit deep, and I screamed. Fire raced up my arm and into my body. It chewed at my wrist like a dog as I writhed, trying to pull away.
I felt skin tear as I twisted. I brought my knee up and pushed it away. It let go. I fell back panting, transfixed. It was as if Ivy stood before me, my blood dripping from her smile. A hand rose to brush the hair from its eyes, leaving a red smear across its forehead.
I couldn’t … I couldn’t deal with this. Taking a gasping breath, I ran for the door.
The thing snaked an arm out with a vampire’s quickness and jerked me back. Pain flared as it slammed me against the cement wall. Ivy’s pale hand pinned me. “Let me show you what vamps do behind locked doors, Rachel Mariana Morgan,” it breathed.
I realized I was going to die in the basement of the university library.
The thing that was Ivy leaned close. I could feel my pulse pushing at my skin. My wrist tingled warmly. Ivy’s face was inches from mine. It was getting better at pulling images out of my head. There was a crucifix around its neck, and I could smell orange juice. Its eyes were smoky with a remembered look of sultry hunger. “No,” I whispered. “Please, no.”
“I can have you anytime I want, little witch,” it whispered, the gray silk of its voice twin to Ivy’s.
I panicked, struggling helplessly. The thing that looked like Ivy grinned to show teeth. “You are so afraid,” it whispered lovingly, tilting its head so its black hair brushed my shoulder. “Don’t be so afraid. You’ll like it. Didn’t I say you would?”
I jerked as something touched my neck. A small sound escaped me as I realized it was a quick tongue. “You’re going to love it,” it said in Ivy’s throaty whisper. “Scout’s honor.”
Images of being pinned to Ivy’s chair flooded back. The thing holding me against the wall groaned in pleasure and nuzzled my head aside. Terrified, I screamed.
“Oh, please,” the thing moaned as I felt the cool, icy sharpness of teeth graze my neck. “Oh, please. Now …”
“No!” I shrieked, and it drove its teeth into me. Three times it lunged with rapid, hungry motions. I buckled in its grip. Still fastened to me, we dropped to the floor. It crushed me under it against the cold cement. Fire burned at my neck. A twin sensation rose up my wrist, joining it in my head. Shudders racked me. I could hear it sucking at me, feel the rhythmic pulls as it tried to take more than my body could give.
I gasped as a tangy sensation broke over me. I stiffened, unable to separate pain from pleasure. It was … was …
“Get off her!” Nick shouted.
I heard a thump and felt a jarring. The thing pulled itself off me.
I couldn’t move. I didn’t want to. I lay sprawled on the floor, transfixed and numb under the vampire-induced stupor. Jenks hovered over me, the breeze on my neck from his wings sending tingling jolts through me.
Nick stood with blood dripping into his eyes. He had a book in his hands. It was so large, he was struggling with it. He was mumbling under his breath, looking pale and frightened. His eyes darted from the book to the thing beside me.
It melted back into a dog. Snarling, it leapt at Nick.
“Nick,” I whispered as Jenks fanned pixy dust onto my neck. “Look out …”
“Laqueus!” Nick shouted, juggling the book against a raised knee as he flung out a hand.
The dog slammed into something and fell to the ground. I watched from the floor as it picked itself up and shook its head as if dazed. Snarling, it jumped at him again, falling back a second time. “You bound me!” it raged, melting from one form to another in a grotesque kaleidoscope of shapes. It looked to the floor and the circle Nick had made of his own blood. “You don’t have the knowledge to call me from the ever-after!” it shouted.
Hunched over the book, Nick licked his lips. “No. But I can bind you in a circle once you’re here.” He sounded hesitant, as if he wasn’t sure.
As Jenks stood on my outstretched palm and sifted pixy dust onto my ravaged wrist, the thing hammered against the unseen barrier. Smoke curled from the floor where its feet touched the cement. “Not again!” it raged. “Let me out!”
Nick swallowed hard and strode past the blood and fallen books to me. “My God, Rachel,” he said as the book dropped to the floor with the sound of tearing pages. Jenks was dabbing at the blood on my face, singing a fast-paced lullaby about dew and moonbeams.
I looked from the broken book on the floor to Nick. “Nick?” I quavered, riveted to his silhouette against the ugly fluorescent lights. “I can’t move.” Panic washed through me. “I can’t move, Nick! I think it paralyzed me!”
“No. No,” he said, glancing at the dog. Settling himself behind me, he pulled me up to sit slumped against him. “It’s the vampire saliva. It will wear off.”
Cradled in his arms and half in his lap, I felt myself start to go cold. Numb, I gazed up at him. His brown eyes were pinched. His jaw was clenched in worry. The blood ran from his scalp, making a slow rivulet down his face to soak his shirt. His hands were red and sticky, but his arms around me were warm. I started to shiver.
“Nick?” I quavered. My attention followed his to the thing. It was a dog again. It stood there, staring at us. Saliva dripped from it. Its muscles quivered. “Is that a vampire?”
“No,” he said tersely. “It’s a demon, but if it’s strong enough, it has the abilities of whatever form it assumes. You’ll be able to move in a minute.” His long face screwed up in distress as he looked at the blood splattered about the room. “You’re going to be all right.” Still keeping me in the cradle of his lap, he used my silver knife to rip the bottom of his shirt. “You’re going to be all right,” he whispered as he tied the rag around my wrist and set it gently in my lap. I moaned at the unexpected bliss that rose from my wrist at the rough movement.
“Nick?” There were black sparkles between me and the lights. It was fascinating. “There aren’t any more demons. There