Read Online The Outlaw Demon Wails by Kim Harrison - Free Book Online Page A

if she died without any damage for the vampire virus to repair. Only the low-born, or ghouls, needed further attention to make the jump to a damned immortality.
    Moved by scent and pheromones, it was an ongoing ballet between us of want and need, desire and will. But I needed protection from the undead who would take advantage of me and my unclaimed scar, and she needed someone who wasn’t out for her blood and had the will to say no to the ecstasy a vampire bite could bring. Plus, we were friends. We had been since working together in the I.S., an experienced runner showing a newbie the ropes. I’d, um, been the newbie.
    Ivy’s blood lust was very real, but at least she didn’t need blood to survive as the undead did. I was fine with her sating her urges with anyone she wanted, seeing as Piscary had warped her such that she couldn’t separate love from blood or sex. Ivy was bi, so it wasn’t a big deal to her. I wasstraight—last time I checked. But after getting a taste of how good a blood tryst felt, everything was doubly confusing.
    It had taken a year, but I finally admitted that I not only respected Ivy but loved her, too—somehow. But I wasn’t going to sleep with her just to have her sink her teeth in me unless I was truly attracted to her and not just to the way she could set my blood burning, aching to fill the hole Piscary had carved into her soul, year by year, bite by bite….
    Our relationship had gotten complicated. Either I had to sleep with her to safely share blood, or we could try to keep it to a blood exchange alone and run the risk that she would lose control and I’d have to slam her against the wall to get her to stop before she killed me. In Ivy’s words, we could share blood without hurt if there was love, or we could share blood without love if I hurt her. There was no middle ground. How nice was that?
    Ivy cleared her throat. It was a small sound, but the pixies went silent. “You’re going to damage the felt,” she almost growled.
    My eyebrows rose, and I turned to look at the table, already knowing its surface like the palm of my hand. “Like it’s in such good shape?” I asked dryly. “I can’t make it any worse. There’s a dent in the slate the size of an elbow by the front left pocket, and it looks like someone stitched up nail gouges there in the middle.”
    Ivy reddened, picking up an old issue of Vamp Vixen that she had out for clients. “Oh, my God,” I said, untwisting my legs and jumping off as I imagined just how gouges like that could get there. “I’ll never be able to play on it again. Thanks a hell of a lot.”
    Jenks laughed to sound like wind chimes, and he joined me as I headed over for some of the pickled herring. The puff of leather was soothing as I flopped into the couch across from Ivy, dropping my clipboard beside me and reaching for the crackers.
    â€œThe blood came right out,” she muttered.
    â€œI don’t want to know!” I shouted, and she hid behind her magazine. The cover story was SIX WAYS TO LEAVE YOUR SHADOW BEGGING AND BREATHING. Nice.
    Silence slipped between us, but it was a comfortable one, which Ifilled by shoving pickled herring into my mouth. The tart vinegar reminded me of my dad—he had been the one who’d gotten me hooked on the stuff—and I settled back with a cracker and my clipboard.
    â€œWhat have you come up with so far?” Ivy asked, clearly looking for a shift in topics.
    I pulled the pencil from behind my ear. “The usual suspects. Mr. Ray, Mrs. Sarong. Trent.” Beloved city’s son, playboy, murdering slicker-than-a-frog-in-a-rainstorm bastard Trent. But I doubted it was him. Trent hated Al more than I did, having run into him once before to come away with a broken arm and probably a recurring nightmare. Besides, he had cheaper ways to knock me off, and if he did, his secret biolabs would hit the front