Jenks's wings clattered a nervous warning, but the undead vampire smiled with only the barest hint of an eye twitch giving away his annoyance. "I understand you're starting to remember certain things," he said flatly, and my bravado vanished. "Do I smell familiar to you? You wouldn't forget me if I'd pinned you to the wall." His eyes tightened. "I know it."
I started to breathe again when he turned to Ivy, the shell of his humanity back in place. "You've been to the boat, Ivy," he said in a soft voice. "Was I ever there?"
Ivy was tense, but she shook her head.
I would've pointed out that he could have had someone else do it, but that wasn't how vampires worked. If Kisten had been a gift to Cormel, Cormel would have taken him without a second thought and would admit it freely. I was dining with a freaking animal, and I bowed my head with a false contriteness and muttered, "Sorry. I had to ask."
"Of course you did. No insult taken."
I felt sick. We were all pretending. Well, at least Cormel and I were. Ivy might still be living the lie. I smiled at him, and Cormel smiled back, the picture of grace and understanding as he leaned to top off my wine, and I leaned forward to accept it.
"Besides myself," he said as he retreated and Ivy relaxed, "there have been no new major political powers entering the city, and none looking for upward mobility other than what one would expect when a master vampire dies his final death. No one has more power than he or she should, which wouldn't be the case if Piscary showed favor to someone." He took a sip, considering the flavor or his next words. "Many owed Piscary, but he owed no one."
Her back to the fire, Ivy was silent. We'd learned nothing, and I was starting to wonder if Kisten's death was another one of Ivy's freaking life lessons. Seeing her fidgeting in motions so subtle only Jenks or I would recognize, I hoped not. If it was, I might just dig the bastard Piscary back up and stake him again for the hell of it. Make a necklace out of his teeth and bathtub duckies out of his dried-up balls…
"I've met him," Ivy said, looking for a shred of hope to follow. "I just can't place him."
"Do you have a name?" Cormel asked.
I could hear faint activity in the kitchen, and Jenks flew to investigate.
"No. The scent is too old, and it's not quite the same. It's like he was alive when I knew him, and now he's dead, or maybe a large shift of status changed his diet and therefore his scent." Her head came up, showing that her eyes were red. "Maybe he tried to disguise his smell so I couldn't recognize it."
Cormel waved a hand in dismissal, his expression irate. "Then you really have nothing," he said, holding out his hand to lure her into sitting back down. "I'm sure the answer is here, but I have exhausted my leads. I'm not asking the right person. You could, though."
Ivy exhaled to try to find her composure. "And who is the right person?" she asked as she took his grip and sat.
"Skimmer," Cormel said, and my head came up sharply. "She knows all Piscary's political secrets. Lawyers…" The vampire sighed expressively.
"Skimmer is in jail," Jenks said as he darted back to the fire. "She won't see Ivy."
Ivy lowered her head, her brow pinched. Skimmer's refusal was tearing her up.
"She might see you if Rachel goes with you," Rynn Cormel suggested, and the hope of a possibility smoothed Ivy's expression. My mouth, though, went dry.
"You think it will make a difference?" I asked.
He shrugged as he sipped his wine. "She doesn't want Ivy to see her in her failure. But I expect she has a few words to say to you."
Jenks's breath hissed in, but Rynn was right. Ivy's face held the hope that Skimmer would talk to her, and I set my dislike for the petite, dangerous vampire aside. For Ivy. I would talk to her for Ivy. And to find out who killed Kisten. "It's worth trying," I said, thinking that going in there with a thin aura wasn't the best idea in the world.
Cormel shifted his feet uneasily. It was subtle, and he probably didn't even know he had done it, but I saw it, and so did Jenks. "Good," he said, as if everything had been decided. "I do believe there is some sushi headed our way."
His words were clearly a signal, since the doors to the kitchen promptly swung open and Jeff and another vamp, in an apron, came out with trays. Jenks's wings were a shimmer of motion though he hadn't moved from the arm of the couch. "I didn't know you liked sushi," I said.
"I don't, but there's honey in one of the dipping sauces."
"Jenks," I warned as Cormel and Ivy made a spot on the coffee table before the fire.
"Wha-a-a-a-at," he complained, his wings slowing until I could almost see the red bit of tape. "I wasn't going to eat any. I was going to take it home for Matalina. It helps her sleep better." And seeing the flicker of concern in his eyes, I believed him.
