Ivy pulled unhesitatingly into a gated drive. Twin tracks made a black trail on the dusting of snow that had fallen since it had been plowed. I leaned to look out the window, never having seen her parents' house. The car slowed to a halt before an old, romantic-looking three-story home painted white with hunter green shutters. A little red twoseater was parked out front, dry and free of snow.

"You grew up here?" I asked as I got out. The two names on the mailbox gave me pause until I remembered vampires maintained their names after marriage to keep living blood-lines intact. Ivy was a Tamwood, her sister was a Randal.

Ivy slammed her door and dropped her keys into her black purse. "Yeah." She looked to holiday lights making a tasteful, subdued display. It was getting dusky. The sun was only about an hour from setting, and I was hoping we would be gone before then. I didn't particularly want to meet her mom.

"Come on in," she said, her boots thumping on the brushed steps, and I followed her onto the covered porch. She opened the door, shouting, "Hi! I'm home!"

A smile curved over me as I hesitated just outside to stomp the snow off. I liked hearing her voice so relaxed. Coming inside, I shut the door and breathed deeply. Cloves and cinnamon—someone had been baking.

The large entryway was all varnished wood and subtle shades of cream and white. It was as stark and elegant as our living room was warm and casual. A runner of cedar bough made graceful loops up the railing of the nearby stairway. It was warm, and I unbuttoned my coat and stuffed my gloves in the pockets.

"That's Erica's car outside. She's probably in the kitchen," Ivy said, dropping her purse on the small table beside the door. It was polished so highly that it looked like black plastic.

Taking her coat off, she draped it over an arm and headed for a large archway to the left, coming to a halt at a thumping of feet on the steps. Ivy looked up, her placid face shifting. It took me a moment to realize she was happy. My gaze followed her to a young woman slumping downstairs.

She looked to be about seventeen, dressed in a skimpy goth short skirt to show her midriff, with black fingernails and lipstick. Silver chains and bangles swung everywhere as she hopped down the stairs, bringing that dog-eared page to mind. Her black hair was cut short and styled into wild spikes. Maturity hadn't yet finished filling her out, but I could tell already that she was going to look exactly like her big sister apart from being six inches shorter: lean, sleek, predatory, and with just enough oriental cast to make her exotic. Nice to know it ran in the family. Of course, right now she looked like a teenage vamp out of control.

"Hi, Erica," Ivy said, reversing her steps and waiting for her at the foot of the stairs.

"My God, Ivy," Erica said, her high voice heavy on the valley girl accent. "You have to talk to Daddy. He's being total Big Brother. Like, I don't know the difference between good Brimstone and bad Brimstone? Listening to him, you'd think I was still two, crawling around in diapers trying to bite the dog. God! He was in the kitchen," she continued, her mouth going as she eyed me up and down, "making Mom her organically grown, earth-friendly, politically correct stinking cup of tea, when I can't go out one night with my friends. It's so unfair! Are you staying? She'll be up rattling the windows soon."

"No." Ivy drew back. "I'm here to talk to Dad. He's in the kitchen?"

"Basement," Erica said. Mouth finally stopping, she sent her gaze over me again as I stood in a bemused wonder at how fast she talked. "Who's your friend?" she asked.

A faint smile curled up the corners of Ivy's mouth. "Erica, this is Rachel."

"Oh!" the young woman exclaimed, her brown eyes that were almost hidden behind her black mascara going wide. She stepped forward and grabbed my hand, pumping it up and down enthusiastically with her bangles jingling. "I shoulda known! Hey, I saw you at Piscary's," she said, giving me a whack on the shoulder that sent me forward a step. "Man, you were sugared up good. Riding the short bus. Walking with the ghost. I didn't recognize you." Her eyes traveled over my jeans and winter coat. "You had a date with Kisten? Did he bite you?"

I blinked, and Ivy laughed nervously. "Hardly. Rachel doesn't let anyone bite her." She took a step to her sister, giving her a hug. I felt good when the young woman returned it with a careless attention, apparently not knowing or caring how rarely Ivy touched anyone. The two pulled apart, and Ivy's features stilled. She took a breath, nostrils widening.

Erica grinned like the cat who ate the canary. "Guess who I picked up at the airport?"

Ivy straightened. "Skimmer's here."

It was almost a whisper, and Erica all but danced back a step. "Came in on a morning flight," she said, as proud as if she had landed the plane herself.

My eyes widened. Ivy was wire-tight. Breath catching, she spun to an archway at the sound of a door closing. A feminine voice echoed, "Erica? Is that my cab?"

"Skimmer!" Ivy took a step to the archway, then rocked back. She looked at me, more alive than I'd seen her in a long time. A small scuff at the archway pulled her attention from me. Emotion cascaded over her, and the happiness settled in to stay, telling me that Skimmer was one of the few people Ivy felt comfortable to be herself around.

So there were two of us, I thought, turning to follow her gaze to a young woman standing in the threshold. I felt my brows rise in speculation as I took in what had to be Skimmer. She was dressed in faded jeans and a crisp, white button-down shirt to make a nice mix of casual sophistication. Understated black boots brought her height to about mine. Slim and well-proportioned, the blond woman stood with a confident grace typical of living vampires.

She had a single silver chain about her neck, and her blond hair was pulled back in a simple ponytail to accentuate a bone structure that models could spend a small fortune on plastic surgery to find. I stared at her eyes, wondering if they were really that blue or if they just seemed that way because of her incredibly long eyelashes. Her nose was small and turned up at the end to give her smile a look of shy confidence.

"What are you doing here?" Ivy said, her face alight as she went to greet her. The two women gave each other a long hug. My lips parted and I froze at the lingering kiss before they parted. Okay…

Ivy slipped me a glance, but she was smiling when she turned back to Skimmer, smiling, still smiling, with her hands on the woman's elbows. "I can't believe you're here!" she said.

Skimmer glanced at me once before focusing on Ivy. She looked like she had enough confidence and smarts to break horses, teach aboriginal children, and dine out at a five-star restaurant all in one day. And she and Ivy had kissed? Not just a peck, but a real…kiss?

"I'm out here on business," she said. "Long-term business," she added, her pleasant voice thick with a pleased emotion. "A year, I'm guessing."

"A year! Why didn't you call me? I would have picked you up!"

The woman took a step back, and Ivy's hold on her fell away. "I wanted to surprise you," she said, her smile rising to encompass her blue eyes. "Besides, I wasn't sure of your situation. It's been so long," she finished softly.

Her eyes fell on me, and I warmed in my new understanding. Aw, crap on toast. How long had I been living with Ivy? How could I have not known? Was I blind or just stupid?

"Damn," Ivy swore, still obviously excited. "It's good to see you. What are you out here for? Do you need a place to stay?"

My pulse quickened and I tried to keep my worry from showing. Two of them together in the church? Not good. Even more disturbing was that Skimmer seemed to relax at her offer, losing interest in me and focusing entirely on Ivy.