by Holly Evans
“It’s about time you relaxed and spent some time with someone.”
“I spend time with you, and Faru,” I replied.
Keirn rolled his eyes. “Make my coffee extra strong and don’t forget you’re supposed to be sparring with Jake. He might have information on these tattoo thefts.”
13
Keirn had remained withdrawn for the time I spent at home. He didn’t have anything more on the tattoo thefts. Guilt writhed within me. I should have asked the students more about it. The memory of Isaiah begging me flitted into my mind and removed any guilt. I couldn’t have known, and the chances were the students didn’t know anything either. Jake was casually leaning against the white-washed wall of the sparring room we used twice a week. The big wolf shifter had his arms crossed and one foot up against the wall. His eyes held the hint of amber that showed he was planning on pushing hard.
I wasn’t a small guy, but Jake still dwarfed me. He was the alpha of the local pack. He oozed predatory confidence and didn’t know the meaning of holding back. That was why he made the perfect sparring partner. I dropped my gym bag in the corner, removed my boots and shirt and turned to face him with a smile. We didn’t need pleasantries. We both knew what we were there for. He pushed himself off the wall and began circling around me, the sharp points of his partially shifted teeth slipping over his lips.
“What’s got you all riled up?” I asked as I circled with him.
“One of my wolves died last night.” He threw a vicious right hook.
I ducked, but he kicked out too quickly and knocked my balance. “He died after someone stole his wolf tattoo.”
He knocked me flat on my back. I hadn’t seen the blow coming. I was too shocked by his words. Jake was an open-minded alpha. He took in true wolf shifters and those rare ferals who gained a tattoo of their animal that allowed them to shift. A lot of alphas looked down on them and shut them out. Jake offered his hand and helped me stand.
He snarled and snapped at thin air. “He died in agony.”
We circled around each other again. I fought to keep my mind on the sparring. Up until that morning, I’d thought it was impossible to steal another person’s tattoo. They’re more than ink and skin. They’re tied into a person’s very essence, a part of their soul. Jake was fast and aggressive. I danced around him, trying to get some hits in, but he forced me back onto the defensive again and again. I had no choice but to keep my guard up and block where I could. He was never an easy opponent, but he was brutal that afternoon.
Still, I held my own. He didn’t knock me down again, and I gave him a few bruises. Once we were both drenched in sweat and ready to give in, we stepped back and showed the palms of our hands, a mutual sign of respect to end the sparring.
“I’m sorry, Jake,” I said.
It felt weak, but I had nothing else to offer.
He growled and curled his lip. “What’s going on, Dan?”
I shrugged. “Fuck if I know.”
His eyes became more amber. Claws began sprouting from his fingertips. He took a deep breath and calmed himself.
“There have been rumours of others. Other tattoo thefts.”
He fixed me with a hard glare. I held up my hands.
“Why is this on me? I’m not the only tattoo magician,” I asked.
He smiled at me. “You’re the only one I know.”
“I don’t suppose you have anything else for me?” I asked hopefully.
“He screamed for two hours. He died in agony, and there was nothing we could do for him,” Jake said, his eyes flicking away.
I squeezed my eyes shut and subconsciously checked the bonds with Kyra and Aris. Were they at greater risk, being out in the world as they were?
“I have others in my pack, Dan. Another feral, and others with animal tattoos.” He fixed me with another one of those alpha glares.
I stood my ground, shoulders back. I wasn’t one of his wolves. He was a friend, not someone I bowed to.
“I’ll ask around,” I said.
I knew the wolves he meant. I’d personally tattooed two of them. One had a red fox tattoo, a vixen to her wolf, the other had an otter, which stood in complete contrast to the cold aloof wolf. The gods had made sure that I was firmly entrenched in whatever was going on. There was no escaping it now.
14
Jake hadn’t been able to give me more information. Shifters tended to stick to their own. He promised he’d put feelers out to try and get details on the other victims. I needed to make a two-pronged attack: find out how it was possible to steal tattoos, and see what connected the victims.
I was shut away in my own head, running everything through my mind, when I walked in through the back door of home. Kyra hissed and brought me back to my surroundings. She stood with her back arched, all fluffed up. She almost looked the same size as a normal cat.
Bad man she pushed down the bond.
I narrowed my eyes and looked around, trying to locate the bad man. Keirn was talking to someone out in the parlour. I’d assumed it was just another client, but it was late in the day for that. Aris appeared and made his way up to my shoulders. Kyra circled around the kitchen, growling and flicking her tail.
“Come,” I said to her, kneeling and holding out my arm for her.
She flicked her tail again and jumped onto my arm, climbed over Aris and settled herself between his body and my neck, perching on my shoulder. I must have looked quite a sight. Keirn was staring at a very uptight man in a very expensive suit. The elf had his arms crossed. I could feel his bear buzzing in the back of my mind, eager to be released. Keirn’s spirit fox was around somewhere. There was an icy sensation that tickled my fingertips when the fox was near but in hiding. I didn’t know if it was normal to feel spirit animals, or if it was just his. Either way, the situation didn’t look like one I wanted to be involved in. Much like the tattoo thefts.
The man in the suit fixed his cold grey eyes on me. His hands were in the pockets of his slate-grey pants. He stood up military straight, shoulders back, weight carefully distributed. Something about him made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. Kyra sank her claws into my shoulder and growled. Her tail thrashed against my neck. I rubbed my thumb over her cheek and approached them with a smile.
“Everything alright, Keirn?” I asked, trying to keep my tone light.
The elf flashed his sharp teeth. I caught the movement of his fox behind the tattoo seat, a glimpse of pure white.
“This man has been bothering me with inane questions for the past ten minutes.” Keirn gestured at the suited man.
The man’s mouth crinkled into a smirk before it smoothed back out into a firm line.
“I was simply asking about the dragon tattoo you inked recently,” he said, his voice as cold as his eyes.
I shrugged and stood next to Keirn.
“It was a dragon. A councilman oversaw the proceeding. We haven’t told anyone,” I said.
He must have been from the council. I couldn’t think of anyone else who would have sent such a man to ask those questions. He took a step towards me, everything about the movement exact and precise. He held his hand out.
“Mr. Blade,” he said, his eyes never leaving mine.
My instincts screamed at me to run. There was only one group of magicians with names like that: the military house. I couldn’t be entirely sure how his magic manifested, but he was a trained killer. I didn’t know if I’d be able to make it out the back door if I did run, or if he’d sever my head from my shoulders before then. I reluctantly shook Mr. Blade’s hand.
“I’m from the council. We had a few questions,” he said.
I smiled and did my best to make my expression one of mild boredom while I mentally screamed a long string of profanities. Having the council come and ask questions was a frequent nightmare of mine.
“One of your men was here for the inking,” Keirn snapped.
“We found it… odd that a third-tier tattoo magician was able to brin
g in such a powerful dragon,” Mr. Blade said to me, ignoring Keirn entirely.
My blood ran cold. Third tier was right in the middle of the gradings. I intentionally tested there, feeling that it was best to hide right in the middle of mediocrity. Had I have been a little more honest and allowed myself to be graded into the first tier, the most talented, I’d have drawn more attention. No one would have believed that I was so lacking in talent that I’d grade at fifth tier. There was no shame in being third tier, but he was right. A third-tier tattoo magician wouldn’t have been able to pull that dragon through, let alone survive.
“Your councilman helped,” I said with another shrug.
Keirn’s fox was slowly circling around behind Mr. Blade. It kept itself almost hidden, but I caught a shimmer of white out the corner of my eye. The smirk reappeared on Mr. Blade’s mouth. His appearance lived up to his name. He was all sharp edges, a shark in expensive cloth.
“Mr. Markov said that you barely needed his help.”
I raised an eyebrow and gave Keirn a confused look. The elf’s ears were pinned back against his head.
“That isn’t how I remember it,” I said calmly.
The councilman tilted his head ever so slightly, more an assessment of my weakness than any curiosity.
“Mr. Markov was quite sure that you were a first-tier tattooist. A third-tier tattooist shouldn’t have survived that dragon. Even with your… elf partner,” he said.
I rolled my eyes. “Then Mr. Markov was clearly wrong. The dragon is safely in council hands. Is there anything we can do for you?”
“You can give us a convenient date and time for your re-grading,” he said.
Aris was growing restless. He pressed the image of the councilman dead within his coils into my mind. I restrained the smile that threatened to form.
“We’ll ring and let you know. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we have things to do,” I said.
“I thought you’d say that. We will be back on Monday at six pm,” he said.
His eyes held mind for a long beat, an open challenge. I exhaled slowly through my nose but said nothing. My bag was packed in my room. If I was quick, I could be in Europe within twenty hours. I had enough cash set aside to pay off a few people and keep my name off the transport rosters.
Keirn’s hand brushed my lower back as he walked behind me to retrieve his fox. I glanced over at him and realised that I couldn’t leave him with that mess. Well, fuck.
15
Keirn locked up behind the councilman. We were supposed to be open for business for another couple of hours, but neither of us were in the mood to deal with clients. I busied myself in the kitchen, making coffee and tidying everything up, trying to keep my focus away from what had just happened. Keirn wasn’t an idiot, he could very easily begin asking the wrong questions. What then?
Isaiah’s face flitted into my mind. His large green eyes had been filled with hope. Could I dash that? I clenched my jaw. Yes. I could. If the council found out what I was, they would do everything in their power to make me their tool. Isaiah and Keirn would recover if I vanished into the night. I would not, if the council got their hands on me. I wasn’t going to run, not yet, but I would if or when the time came. Until then, I had to find out what was going on with the tattoo thefts.
“Talk to me, Dacian,” Keirn demanded.
I turned to face him with his fox at his side, both hard-eyed and prepared for a fight.
“About what?” I asked nonchalantly.
“We’re tattoo partners, and I’m not an idiot. We both know you’re better than a third tier. We have the council sniffing around. It’s time to give me some answers,” he said.
I put my shoulders back. “And if I don’t?”
He crumpled. His fox stretched up and licked his hand.
“Dacian, you’re my oldest friend. You’re my tattoo partner. You were my lover. Let me help you.”
I crossed the room and cupped his face in my hands.
“Don’t shut me out,” he said firmly.
“It’s best the council know as little as possible,” I said.
The elf smiled and relaxed a little. “We agree on that.”
“I’m comfortable with the life we have,” I said.
“Most people would want to grade at a higher tier…”
I shrugged and returned to making the coffee.
“Sounds like too much hassle to me,” I said.
“More money, more prestige,” the elf pushed.
I shot him a dark look. “You’re first tier. You’re here.”
He gave me a charming smile. “I couldn’t leave you, who knows what trouble you’d get into without me.”
I snorted.
“Look at the trouble you’ve gotten into with me,” I said.
He grinned. “My point exactly.” His slender fingers ran over the back of my hand. “I’m your tattoo partner, Dacian. I swore to keep you safe. I stand by that.”
“I just want the quiet life,” I said.
His fingers found their way to my lips. “When the time comes, I will take on the council for you.”
With that, he turned and headed into his art room.
‘When,’ not if. I swallowed down the fear and steadied my breathing. Did he already know? He could have turned me in. I had no doubt the council would have paid him handsomely if he had have done. Trust Kyra said down the bond. I rubbed her behind her ears. Good elf Aris added. They both projected a feeling of calm and happy images of Keirn. They trusted him. I had put my life in his hands without so much as a shadow of doubt more than once. Taking a deep breath, I knew that I was going to have to do it again.
I spent what was left of the afternoon trying to meditate. I hoped that perhaps the ink magic would show me something of use, give me a little guidance as to what to do about the thefts. After three hours, all I had were faint sensations of pain and power. Tattoo magicians were conduits for the ink magic. They opened themselves to the ink magic web and connected the recipient with the web. I was an ink magician. There was no one to tell me exactly what that meant, but I was beginning to get the impression it was something more than a conduit. My phone buzzed. Part of me hoped it was my father. I hadn’t spoken to him in a couple of weeks, and his wisdom would have been welcome in that moment. He didn’t know what I was, but he didn’t need to.
Rather than being a text from my father, it was from Isaiah. He said he’d quit his job, and he wanted to see me again. A flutter of guilt spread through my stomach. Had I done the right thing, pushing him out of that job? I stood and shook my head. I’d gotten myself into the middle of one of hell of a situation. I told Isaiah I’d see him in two nights’ time. I wasn’t going to allow him to control when we met. He was the first guy I’d seen twice other than Keirn. The idea made me more nervous than facing down the council again. I knew where I stood with the council. Relationships were a whole different game.
I leaned back against the wall and called my father. We hadn’t spoken face-to-face in years, but we kept in touch. He’d raised me alone, my mother having abandoned us both when I was a baby. The desire to find her had never surfaced. She’d walked out of our lives. I saw no reason to try and bring her back into them. Some of my stress melted away when my father’s voice cut through my thoughts. He never failed to have good advice.
16
My father had told me exactly what I needed to hear. Keirn was the best and only real friend I had. As much as it was tempting to push him away in preparation for running, I couldn’t do it. He had been cautious through dinner, but I made the effort to extend the metaphorical olive branch. We sprawled out together on the lumpy old sofa with a good movie on the TV. Keirn’s spirit fox was cuddled up to his stomach, Kyra had claimed the back of the sofa, and Aris stretched up along my legs. Keirn had even allowed his bear out to stretch its legs. It lay on the floor below us, quietly snoring. We hadn’t been lovers in a while, but there was still an undeniable comfort from being close to him. I trusted him more tha
n I had ever trusted another.
His fingers brushed the edge of my face, dipping through my hair. His eyes remained focused on the movie.
“What are we going to do about the tattoo thefts?” he asked quietly.
My father had said he’d do some digging on information about that when we spoke. As a tier-one weaver who was well placed within the guild, he had access to resources I didn’t.
I sighed. “We need more information.”
I watched his mouth pinch. His spirit fox nuzzled his other hand.
“I’ll ask my connections about the other victims. Who would do such a thing? Why?” he asked, turning to face me.
“I don’t know why, but I know they must be some form of monster,” I said.
His bear stirred and nuzzled its great head against Keirn’s hip. “We have to do something, Dacian.”
I ran my fingertips over his inner wrist. “We will. I’m going to the college tomorrow to see if I can find out how it could be done.”
Creases formed around his eyes.
“Surely only a tattoo magician could do such a thing?” he asked.
I shrugged and stroked his spirit fox, a very intimate form of affection.
“A chaote, perhaps,” I said.
He visibly relaxed as my fingers dug into his spirit fox’s fur and stroked down its spine.
“Or a magic breaker? They could have found a way to shatter the magical bonds. I’ve never heard of it being done, but…” He trailed off.
I rubbed behind his spirit fox’s ears, only to have Kyra bite my ear out of jealousy. Keirn smiled and laughed before he scooped Kyra into his arms and fussed her. She gave me a petulant look, which I ignored, damn cat.
We sat considering the situation for a long moment before he said, “I’ll speak to Ethan, my magic breaker friend.”
Something about that name raised my hackles. I couldn’t remember having met an ‘Ethan’, so I brushed it aside as the emotional dregs from Kyra. There was something about magic breakers that I didn’t like at the best of times, a cold arrogance. The ones I’d met believed they stood above all others because they could break any magic that a magician could form, which put them above both magicians and non-magic users. I made a mental note to be out in the city when that Ethan showed up. I hadn’t met him, and I was already having images of breaking his nose.
