So I got Perfect Blood, the newest Hollows novel, yesterday. I'm gonna be reading it today and probably tomorrow, live-tweeting some of the most frustrating, amusing, Rachel/Ivy containing parts with commentary and page numbers as I go.
If anyone wants to follow along, I can be found over at @HollowsRant rather than my usual twitter. This one will be full of spoilers and I think there might be one or two spoiler free peeps on my usual twitter. I'd love to hear thoughts and comments as I go!
Ivy came closer, and a pang of emotion went through me. The chair Glenn was now in had been pulled to the bedside when I woke up. I’d be willing to bet she’d been sitting in it all night. She looked tired, and I wondered if she had slept at all this morning. “Hi, Ivy,” I said as I reached out— knowing she wouldn’t. “Jenks said Remus hit you. You okay?” Jenks clattered his wings behind the flowers, and Ivy’s calm face scrunched up. “I’m fine, more mad at myself than anything.” Her fingers touched mine, and I heard everything she wasn’t going to say. “I’m glad you’re awake,” she said softly. “You had us worried.” “My pride took a hit,” I said. “I’ll be fine soon as I can stand.” Jenks looked out around a plastic vase with a questioning expression, his hands full of pollen, and Marshal popped his knuckles. Realizing the men had become uncomfortable, I flushed. Our fingers parted.
Relenting, Ford dropped his eyes and shook his head. “That’s how good relationships start, Rachel,” he said fondly. “Look at you and Ivy.” I felt the muscles in my face go slack and I blinked. “Excuse me?” “You’ve got a great relationship there,” he said, busying himself with his coffee again. “Better than a lot of married couples I see. Sex ruins it for some people. I’m glad you’re learning that you can love someone without having to prove it with sex.” “Uh, yeah,” I said uneasily.
Anyone here? What does it take to get a reaction? Let's all indulge.
“Kisten couldn’t be taken down by another living vampire,” I said, pitying Ivy for having lived with this alone for six freaking months. Her deep brown eyes had lost their fear when they met mine. “He’d let Skimmer kill him if Piscary gave him to her.” Ivy looked at the mirrored black square the night had turned the window into. “She hated him. She hates you—” Ivy’s words caught, and she shifted her keyboard in a nervous reaction. “I’m glad it wasn’t her.” The bubbling soup was threatening to run over, and I got up, giving her shoulder a squeeze of support before I went to turn it down. “It was a man,” I said, blowing on the top and flicking the gas off. “It’s going to be okay. We’ll find him, and we can put an end to it.” My back was to her, and I froze as a faint tingle started at my neck, the scar she’d given me hidden under my curse-smoothed skin. I felt the muscles in my face grow slack, and my motion of stirring the soup slowed as the feeling deepened into a soft anticipation that struck the pit of my being and rebounded. Knowing Ivy couldn’t see, I let my eyes close. I knew this feeling. Missed it, even as I struggled, against my instincts, to push it away. In her relief that Skimmer hadn’t killed Kisten, Ivy had unconsciously filled the air with pheromones to soothe and relax a potential source of blood and ecstasy. She wasn’t after my blood, but she’d been uptight for the last six months, which was probably why just this hint of pheromones felt really good. I breathed them in, enjoying the rush of desire that tightened my gut and set my thoughts spinning. I wasn’t going to act on it. Ivy and I had a safe, secure, platonic relationship. I wanted to keep it that way. But that wouldn’t stop me from this tiny little indulgence.
One might think Ivy would be ticked off after wasting a year chasing me, but she had a blissful happiness that vampires didn’t often find. Apparently my telling her I wasn’t ever going to let her sink her teeth into me again was the only way she’d believe I liked her for her and not the way she could make me feel. I just admired the hell out of anyone who could be that hard on herself and still be so incredibly strong. And I loved her. I didn’t want to sleep with her, but I did love her.
I huffed, ready to tell him he had no right to sound so high and mighty, but turning a liability into an asset was exactly what he had done with his “gift.” I gave his arm a squeeze, then started when I saw Ivy, my roommate, bending over the nurses’ desk, not caring that a male orderly had just walked into a wall watching her. Her black jeans were low and tight, but she had the body of a model and could get away with it. The matching cotton pullover was cut high to give a glimpse of her lower back as she craned to see what was on the computer. In deference to the cold, her long leather coat was draped over the counter. Ivy was a living vampire, and she looked it: svelte, dark, and broody. It made it hard to live with her, but I was no picnic either, and we knew each other’s quirks. “Ivy!” I called, and her head turned, her short, enviably straight hair with the gold tips swinging as she came up. “How did you find out about Glenn?” Ford’s shoulders slumped, all his tension slipping from him as he held my arm. He looked happy. But he would, seeing that he was picking up my emotions and I was happy to see Ivy. Perhaps I might invest in a little talk time about Ivy when Ford and I got together again. I could use his insight into our uneasy relationship.
“Research?” I asked, hearing in her silence that she was still upset about something. “Looking up banshees,” she said shortly, and I hoped she didn’t know how coy she looked with the end of the pen between her teeth.
Reminded, I held my bulging bag tighter, trying not to squish Jenks. I had everything in it I’d need to do the charm, including a set of clothes for Pierce, and my splat gun. Beside me, Ivy’s steps were short and fast because of her heels. “Sure are a lot of witches,” she said as we made our way across the street. “Any excuse to party, right?” I said, then took a longer look. She was pale in her long coat with her hair whipping in the wind. And worried. “We make you nervous, don’t we?” She met my eyes as we stepped up onto the curb. “You don’t.” I smiled. “Thanks.”
"Still think you're tougher than me, Strawberry Shortcake?" I said, not moving as Ivy settled in beside me. Hands on her hips, she breathed deep—and smiled. I knew Ivy had too much control and class to go for her, but it was unnerving as she somehow grew sleeker and sexier, eyes dilating to a full, hungry black. From nowhere, a quiver rose through me at the memory of her teeth sliding into my neck, and the exquisite feeling of rising pleasure mixed with the blood-boiling sensation of coming ecstasy. Closing my eyes briefly, I pushed the feeling away. Beside me, I felt Ivy quiver, scenting my reaction. No, Rachel. Everlastingly no.
Is anyone still following this journal? If so, i'll provide a few lines from BMS starting with this one. Let's see who's here.
I'd come away from this with a new layer of demon smut on my soul, but I'd also have protection against banshees. After one had nearly killed me last New Year's Eve, I'd willingly entertain a little smut to be safe. Besides, this might lead to a way to save Ivy's soul when she died her first death. For that, I'd risk a lot.