Ever After (Rachel Morgan)

imagine it a month from now with the early flowers blooming and pixies out there instead of in here. I hoped I was here to see it. I had gotten rid of most of the ifs, but it would only take one to bring it all crashing down. Please be okay, Bis.
    Slowly the silence soaked in as I finished rinsing everything and set my spelling supplies to dry. My smile faded, and the feeling of being watched pricked through me. There was nothing outside but the low rumbles of the gargoyles. But I knew Nick was out there somewhere—becoming frustrated.
    The hair on the back of my neck rose, and even knowing Jenks was on the steeple, I felt as if I was being watched. The air was thick with the scent of vampires, evidence of Ivy and Nina, and nervous, I ran the tap to warm the water as I messed with the soap, head down as I tried to scrub the burnt amber stink out from under my fingernails.
    Goose bumps rose, and I couldn’t say why. “Stop it, Rachel,” I whispered as I turned, shocked to see a young, thin vampire standing at my table.
    Holy shit! I thought, panic icing through me, first that he might know what I was doing, and then because there was a undead vampire standing in my kitchen and I hadn’t heard him come in. “Who in hell are you?” I said, heart pounding. No wonder I’d felt as if I’d been being watched!
    For an instant, I thought he looked like Kisten, the same blond hair falling about his eyes, and when he tossed his head, I almost forgot to breathe. But it wasn’t Kisten. This vampire’s face was thinner, younger, less worldly wise. His frame wasn’t nearly as bulky, giving him a bookish, intelligent mien. His black suit fit him perfectly, a dull white shirt, paisley ascot, and handkerchief finishing his polish. His shoes looked as if they’d never seen the dirt before today.
    “I startled you,” he said, hands clasped innocently behind him, but I wasn’t fooled.
    “Ivy isn’t here,” I said cautiously, thinking that word she was back got around fast. “I can give her a message.” And then you need to get your ass outta my kitchen, dirt nap. Talking to undead clients in the unsanctified back rooms was standard practice, but they usually knocked first. Damn, this one was old if he could get past Jenks and me without my even hearing him.
    “A message will do,” the man said, and I moved to put space between us. I knew it made me look scared, but I wanted to be able to react if I needed to. Slowly his voice filtered through my memory. I recognized it from somewhere, or rather, I recognized how his voice pulled at me, the cadence both mesmerizing and soothing, unnervingly so. Suddenly I was a lot more concerned.
    Breathing in my alarm, he moved, the silk of his suit rustling against itself as he tucked a foot behind the other, just the tip touching the floor. His eyes flashed black, and I froze. “I want Nina returned to me,” he said, and that fast, swirling madness entered his eyes.
    Shit. “Felix,” I whispered, and he inclined his head, never taking his eyes off mine. This was Felix. He was out of his hole. I was looking at him, not a willing mouthpiece. Ivy had called him out by encouraging Nina to rebel, and he had come. Looking for her.
    My fingers slipped from the stainless-steel counter. Felix moved. I got a gasp of air in, and he was on me, pushing me back until I found the wall beside the archway. His arm was under my throat, his breath was on my skin. Delicious tingles sparked through me, and I shoved them aside, refusing to let him take me this way.
    “Where is Nina . . .” he began, and I pushed him off me.
    He stumbled back, clearly shocked that he hadn’t bespelled me. I was shocked, too. The guy looked like he was eighteen. I didn’t sense any magic keeping him this way. He had died young.
    “I’m only going to tell you one more time, Felix,” I said, trying to pull myself out of a defensive crouch. “I don’t care what you want, you will keep your hands off me. Got it?”
    Oblivious to my threats, he licked his red lips, gaze darting over the ceiling. “She was here. I can smell her.” Eyes closing, he breathed deep, exhaling to fill the room with the sound of desire. “She has been willful. She needs . . . gentle correction.”
    This time I had a bare instant of warning as his eyes met mine before he lunged. “ Get off! ” I shouted, tapping the line out back as one hand gripped my shoulder and the other twined in my hair. He jerked my head back to lay my