Tragic Ink

by Heather Hildenbrand

  “Gwen—”

  “They don’t believe me that someone was out there.”

  He took another step. “I do.”

  I looked away, back to the window where I saw the paramedics finishing up. The doors were closing now. The engines were turning over. This was it. After tonight, I would never see my mother again. This house would never feel the same. An irrational panic rose, clogging the back of my throat. A part of me wanted to fling open the front door and race out there to stop them. To keep my mother—or what was left of her—here. Even if it didn’t make sense.

  I forced my feet to remain where they were. “You believe me,” I said dully. “What good does that do me?”

  “A lot, if you’ll let me help.”

  I turned to study him, unwilling to watch my mother be carted away from the only home I’d ever known with her. Instead, I put all of my attention and focus on the words Rhys had just spoken. And the ones he hadn’t said out loud.

  “Help with what?” I asked, wary and curious as I remembered Aelwyn’s last words. The promise I’d made rang in my ears. I couldn’t go back on that, but damn it, I couldn’t ask Rhys for anything.

  “We both know what,” he said and then snorted. “The only mother either of us has ever known was murdered,” he went on, and I flinched but didn’t contradict him. Better to face the truth, no matter how hard, than live in denial. “And I know you’re not going to rest until you figure out who killed her. I think you know that I won’t either. And I can help you. If you let me.”

  “I thought that’s what the police are for,” I challenged.

  Rhys sighed. “I heard Kasun speculating it could be related to the Bennett girl’s disappearance last year.”

  “It could,” I argued, with no real idea why I was suddenly sticking up for that asshat—except that I didn’t want to side with Rhys.

  He pinned me with a look, and in the dim lamplight, his eyes flashed. “You don’t believe that for a second. Neither do I.”

  “I don’t know—”

  “Those woods—out there where I found you earlier—have traces of fae all over them, but it’s unreadable. I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s just . . . a ghost. The only real signature that’s even remotely detectable out there is yours. Whoever was here used a glamour to cover his tracks.”

  That silenced me. I thought it had just been me. My own signature. Or Ethan was losing his touch, but . . .

  “Does the sheriff know that?” I asked quietly.

  “Yes.”

  “Does he also know that Aelwyn didn’t let fae come to the house?” I asked, a strange sort of uncertainty sending a tingling down my spine. It had been a strange thing, Aelwyn’s rule. She’d never explained it either, but it had been ironclad. No fae on her land. Period. If I hadn’t known her so well, I’d have wondered if she was prejudiced or maybe bitter about something in her past, but she’d been friendly enough with everyone in town, fae included.

  I’d never really thought about how strange her rule was until now. Or her unyielding routine of warding the house with fresh herbs and magic every month on the full moon.

  Rhys didn’t question it either, though, which only made it all the weirder. “I told him, but . . .”

  He trailed off, and I caught his expression before he shifted away. Concerned. Hesitant. It set a warning bell off in my head, and I bit my lip as the pieces fell together. The police weren’t very fond of me, thanks to a childhood spent as a loner and, on occasion, as a troublemaker. I’d broken into a building in high school and set up shop, using it as a temporary tattoo parlor. I’d made a few thousand dollars before they’d shut me down. I’d also made enemies out of Havenwood Falls’ finest.

  Apparently, they held a grudge.

  I braced myself and asked quietly, “Am I a suspect?”

  The beat of silence that followed told me all I needed to know. “Not officially.”

  I cursed. A long string of them that would have gotten my mouth washed with soap had I been younger. Aelwyn would have lectured me even now if she’d been here. And suddenly, the emptiness of the house washed over me. I had to get out.

  “I have to go,” I said, shoving past Rhys and crossing to the front door. I yanked it open, relieved now to see everyone else had gone, and strode out into the night. Overhead, Ethan circled. Just a few more minutes. I’d have to make a pit stop on the way home so I could put him away before I got back to town.

  My truck was still where I’d parked it, but halfway there, I realized the headlights were off. They’d been on when I’d jumped out earlier. Before I could speculate why or who, Rhys was there, holding my keys out.

  “I didn’t want your battery to die,” he explained.

  “Thanks,” I muttered, swiping the keys from him and heading for the truck.

  “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

  I paused, one leg already in the truck. “What?”

  Rhys pointed to the sky at the same time Ethan did a low loop overhead. I swallowed hard, debating whether to deny it. But what was the point anymore?

  I sighed. “How did you know?”

  “You shouldn’t leave him loose for too long. Too many risks in this part of the woods,” he said, ignoring my question.

  I strode up to him until we were nose to nose in the darkness. Or nose to chin, since he was taller than me.

  “How did you know?” I repeated. The temper that rolled off me was a welcome distraction to the grief building in my chest.

  His eyes flashed with a knowing that rocked me. It was a look that suggested he knew a lot more about me than I might think. More than I ever told him, that was for sure. And I wondered if maybe my soul was the traitor, opening for him so willingly when he looked at me that way, so that he could just read it all for himself somehow. Like my heart just willingly gave up whatever he wanted from it.

  I felt caught by his gaze, like a deer caught by oncoming headlights. One hundred percent of me was certain this was going to end with me wrecked.

  “Let me help you, Gwen,” he said softly.

  His words were enough to break the spell.

  I blinked, shaking my head to clear the fog that made it hard to remember why I didn’t want his help in the first place. But the moment I remembered, my jaw hardened, and I stepped back, no longer trusting myself to stand so close to him.

  “Aelwyn might have tied us together, but that common bond is gone now. Go home, Rhys. And leave me alone. For good this time.”

  I couldn’t help the sadness that laced my words, but I told myself it was exhaustion and the loss I’d suffered tonight. Rhys didn’t argue, and he didn’t call out to me as I trudged back to my truck. I slid inside and turned the engine over, gunning it out of the yard and onto the main road. Just before the trees obscured my view, I glanced into my rearview. But the darkness was complete, and I saw nothing but shadows of the past in my wake.

  Chapter 3

  Ethan had whined all night and into the morning, and I knew my own tears probably had a lot to do with his distress. Rhys hadn’t tried calling, though he’d texted that I should call him about making arrangements when I was ready. I wasn’t sure whether to be glad or disappointed that he hadn’t tried to come by. I’d made my wishes clear with him, but still. He was the only person in the world who knew Aelwyn. And me. The real me. The temptation to let him comfort me was strong—until I remembered what that would cost me in the end. Better not to go down that road.

  Unfortunately, that left me no one else. In fact, when it came to the rest of the world, I wanted to hide. But there was nowhere in the world that I could go where Aelwyn was still alive. Not to mention anywhere I wasn’t a murder suspect. But I was determined not to think about that until I absolutely had to. So, the next afternoon, when I’d tossed and turned and then showered until the hot water ran cold, I descended the stairs from my third-floor apartment to my second-floor shop, Tragic Ink, and opened for business.

  Twenty minutes later, I wish
ed I hadn’t.

  The chime sounded, signaling the door opening, and I rounded the corner while schooling my features into something that didn’t resemble a grief-stricken zombie. When I saw who it was, my blood turned cold, and I stopped in my tracks. This was not what I’d had in mind when I’d intended to let work distract me from my grief.

  “Hello, Gwen.” A middle-aged woman waltzed in, her smile genuinely evil, calculating, and completely sure of herself as she rounded the counter with a thickly muscled man in tow.

  “What do you want, Ada?” I asked, my eyes narrowing in disgust and wariness. Ethan scratched at my arm, but my own will kept him from making any real noise.

  The man glanced up at me and then away again as he followed her around the corner and sat where she directed him. No question who was in charge here.

  “You know what I want,” she said so matter-of-factly, it was almost easy to miss the sharp edge to her tone. Almost.

  But Ada wasn’t someone I could afford to underestimate. Ada was the leader of the Green Coven, a group of witches suspected of practicing black magic. The Court of the Sun and the Moon overlooked Ada’s methods for one reason only: because she would get her hands dirty when they wouldn’t. No real accusations had ever been made, but I suspected that was all part of the backdoor dealings she had going on already—if the Court banished her, the town would lose one of their best hit men.

  A quick-tempered witch with zero respect for the law, Ada Daryn was the worst of Havenwood Falls. So I didn’t miss the way she always sugar-coated things when she was trying to hide her temper. Or the way her mood could shift on a dime.

  A thousand times, I’d convinced myself to stand up to her. I’d even designed tattoos that might help me fight her off when she realized I wasn’t going to do her bidding. But Ada wasn’t someone to mess with. She was, however, in a position to mess with me. So in the end, I always gave in and did the work. I just hated myself for it later.

  Tonight, though, my emotions were so frayed already, I wasn’t sure I could deal with Ada and her shit.

  “Tonight’s not a good night,” I said, willing to appeal to her compassion, if she had any.

  Her eyes narrowed and then gleamed at my words, and I knew then the term compassion didn’t exist in her vocabulary.

  “Really?” She clucked her tongue. “That’s unfortunate. I guess I could come back later. That would give me plenty of time to activate all the magic you’ve already inked for me. And when the police get those calls of mayhem and chaos unleashed on their lovely town, the only explanation I could give would be to admit where I’d gotten the magic from. Of course, that would mean you aren’t available another night either. Not in this lifetime anyway.”

  “I’m not in the mood to be threatened, either,” I warned, her words only serving to piss me off further. Maybe tonight was the night I’d finally tell her no.

  But Ada’s eyes sharpened, and she didn’t look nearly as nervous at my rejection as I thought she would. “I would have thought you’d be a little more interested in self-preservation than this. What with last night’s incident.”

  I went still. “What does Aelwyn have to do with any of this?”

  Ada blinked. “Aelwyn?” She waved a hand. “Nothing at all. The mountain lion at the Village Apartments is something I assumed you’d be concerned about.”

  “Why the hell would I be concerned about that?” I tried to think back, but I’d been so caught up in getting to Aelwyn’s last night. And then when I’d come home . . . I hadn’t exactly sat down and watched the news.

  “Because when it was done ransacking a first-floor apartment, it just vanished. Poof.” She snapped her fingers, and I flinched. “Just like that. Strange, right?”

  I pressed my lips together and tried to resist the urge to lift my shirt and check my own skin for the mountain lion I wore. Ada stood, waiting smugly, and I knew I had to call her bluff. If she was right and my tattoo had come to life—again—I was screwed.

  Heart pounding, I turned away from her and the man who had sat patiently through all this, and lifted my shirt a few inches. I peered down at the collage of ink on my skin, searching. When my eyes landed on the spot where the mountain lion had been, I went still. A tiny patch of blank skin stared back at me, surrounded by the other images still sitting dormant on me—carbon copies of the magical tattoos I’d given out to others.

  They all sat ready and waiting on my body until the magic was triggered. Then, they sprang to life just as the original was called to action by its wearer. The first time it had happened, I’d followed my own ink and arrived just in time to witness the chaos it caused. This time, I’d completely missed it. My grief had wiped me out last night, and when I’d finally passed out, apparently I’d slept hard.

  Damn it. Ada was right. That mountain lion was my fault.

  My gut twisted as I turned back to Ada. “Was anyone hurt?”

  “No, the police were able to rescue the woman inside. Her ex-boyfriend was caught trying to flee the scene, however, and one eyewitness swears the boyfriend somehow conjured the mountain lion out of thin air. Quite a feat for a prairie dog shifter with no magic beyond his own shifting ability.”

  “Was he arrested?” I asked, trying to ignore the brick forming in my stomach, because I knew exactly which customer she referred to.

  I’d given him the mountain lion a year and a half ago because he’d cried in my shop about how lame it was being a prairie dog shifter. Just once, he’d wanted to experience what it would be like as a predator and not prey. The mountain lion was supposed to be just for him. For a night of fun alone in the woods. Not to terrorize his ex-girlfriend.

  “As a matter of fact, he’s been called in for questioning,” Ada said. “Conall, I think, was the officer on the scene. Isn’t he the one investigating Aelwyn’s murder? Small town, I guess.” She smiled softly, and my shoulders slumped.

  She had me.

  “What do you want me to do?” I asked quietly.

  “Nothing difficult.” She beamed. “This one will be quick and easy for you.”

  “And in exchange, you’ll make sure the mountain lion doesn’t lead here?” I asked.

  “Of course. You scratch my back, I scratch yours.” Ada smirked at me.

  I tried not to throw up. Ada still hadn’t told me why she didn’t just do these tattoos herself. She was much more powerful than me, and I was sure she could have figured it out, but she still came here. I suspected she just didn’t want her own magic signature on them, but I wasn’t sure why she’d even care. She got away with everything else.

  Moving on autopilot, I went to retrieve my tools, and when I turned to face them again, the man had removed his shirt. He’d turned in the chair so that his back was exposed, and I winced at all the hair coating his skin. Werewolf, probably. Or bear shifter. And I didn’t recognize him, which meant he was either new or a loner. Ada had probably chosen him to carry out some horrible deed for her. I tried not to imagine what that might be. Ada never told me what she intended with the tattoos she forced me to do for her minions, and I hadn’t asked. If this ever came back on me, it was one less conspiracy charge. Or that’s what I told myself.

  “What’ll it be?” I asked, wishing again that I’d just stayed in bed. Even calling Rhys back to discuss funeral arrangements sounded better than this.

  “He needs an asp wrapped around his right bicep.”

  “An asp?” I blinked at her.

  “Yes, it’s a venomous snake that—”

  “I know what it is.” I felt the horror transform my features. “You can’t be serious.”

  Her lips curved. “Dead serious.”

  “Ada, that’s . . . I can’t.” In the pit of my stomach was an absolute certainty that this tattoo would bring someone harm. No part of me wanted to cause that ever again.

  “You can and you will, or I’ll tell the Court what you did. What you’re capable of. Whom you’ve hurt with your art.” The last word dripped with sarcasm. />
  “It was an accident,” I said, but that didn’t matter. Not to Ada. Not to the Court. And not to me. She was right. I’d hurt that woman. Didn’t matter that her husband had housed the weapon. I’d been the one to ink him with it. I’d given him the loaded gun. He’d just pulled the trigger. “I can’t let it happen again.”

  Ada rolled her eyes. “Your altruistic intentions will hardly matter to the Court,” she snapped. “Your cursed tattoo took a woman’s life, and that is all they will care about. You’ll spend the rest of your life in a cell. And in the end, you will not have stopped me. With or without your tattoo, I will accomplish what I’m after.”

  She was right. About all of it.

  But I still had one more card to play.

  “Tell me about my mother’s investigation,” I said, levelling my gaze on hers and holding it steady even though my insides trembled. I’d never demanded anything of her before, and I wasn’t entirely convinced it was the smart play now. But asking nicely wouldn’t get me anywhere either.

  “An ongoing investigation is classified.” Ada scoffed. “How would I know anything about—”

  “Classified information is your favorite kind, and we both know it. Besides, you have your snaky fingers in every pie this town has to offer. So I know you know something. Tell me what leads they have on Aelwyn’s killer, and I’ll do the tattoo.”

  Ada glared at me, and I wondered for a moment if she was capable of killing me with just her eyes. But finally, she blinked, and her lips curved upward in a sneer. “Why, I thought you knew,” she said, too sweet. Too accommodating.

  “Knew what?”

  “The only suspect they have is you.”

  Chapter 4

  The moment Ada was gone, I closed the shop and went upstairs. With all of the lights still burning, I shed my clothes and climbed into bed, careful to keep my bow and arrows close. Aelwyn had taught me to use them in our backyard as a kid. Since then, it had been a fun hobby that helped explain the long periods I spent in the woods with Ethan. But tonight, it was a comfort. Not that I anticipated a need for self-defense, but my impromptu appointments with Ada always left me on edge. Her special requests were awful and draining, but this one had been worse. Coming to me when I was already off-balance and requesting a tattoo that was obviously meant to harm twisted my stomach in knots.