Bait

by Kasi Blake

It was early evening and Bay-Lee was on a secret date. In town Nick and Bay-Lee walked down the sidewalk in front of a line of stores. She was sure if she glanced at her feet they would be floating above the ground. Being in the open with Nick filled her to overflowing with pure joy, and she was in such a good mood she even liked her new roommate. Nick reached for her hand. Butterflies kicked up a fuss in her stomach. His fingers slid between hers and he gripped her hand tight as if he’d never let go. She wanted to swallow the building lump in her throat, but she was afraid she might choke.

  Did he know this was her first real date? She didn’t count her dates with Gavin since her feelings for him were dull and unremarkable. She glanced at Nick sideways without turning her head, watching him from beneath lowered lashes. His eyes were focused on their present path, and his expression was blank. When his jaw tightened, she looked around for the cause. People were staring at him, wondering if Tyler Beck had returned from the dead.

  In a loud voice she said, “I wish you would quit your boring job, James. You’ve been promising to go back to school for years and do something with your life, and I’m tired of having to tell people my boyfriend is a lame stocker at the local grocery store.”

  Disappointed, the people walked away.

  Nick squeezed her hand, his eyes blazing with gratitude.

  Unfortunately, getting recognized was going to happen again and again as long as they were in public. “We should find something to do and somewhere private to do it. Maybe we could go to the movies. At least we’d be sitting in the dark.”

  “We don’t have to hide,” he said, grimacing. “I’m having fun exploring the town with you. It’s like seeing it for the first time.”

  Her cheeks caught fire, and she nearly swallowed her tongue. What was wrong with her? This was the same guy she’d pushed against a wall and threatened, the same guy she enjoyed sparring with. The fact they were on a date shouldn’t change anything. “Where does your watchdog think you are?” At his confused gaze, she added, “Jordan.”

  He grinned, obviously amused at her apt description. “She and Mike think I’m running an errand for Van.”

  “Good. No matter what happens you cannot tell them the truth.”

  They continued on for a few blocks, neither saying a word. Her hand was sweaty and she wanted to wipe it on her jeans, but she felt awkward about pulling her hand out of his. He might take it the wrong way. Bay-Lee didn’t have a clue how she was supposed to behave. Because she grew up without a mom and Uncle Connor didn’t know anything about women, she didn’t have anyone to ask for advice.

  “A few days ago you hated me,” she reminded him.

  “No,” he interrupted her. “I wanted to hate you because I blamed you for the prophecy, but you made it impossible. I couldn’t hate you if my life depended on it.” He brushed hair away from her eyes. “I think I wanted you from the second I saw you.”

  She blushed. “Wow. I had no idea.” The chemistry between them was incredible, like lighting a pile of gasoline-soaked wood. “What do you want to do?”

  A gleam entered his eyes, and he jerked his chin in the direction of a nearby building, a tattoo parlor. A large window created a giant picture frame for a hundred or more drawings of possible tattoos. Once her gaze landed on the building and she began to protest, he said, “You are mine. If I can’t tell people, I want something binding to remind us when we aren’t together. I want you to have something on you that will make you think of me when I can’t be with you, and I’m not allowed to buy you jewelry because people will know.”

  The passion in his voice caught her off guard. Blinking, she asked, “You want to brand me? Are you kidding me? You know how I feel about tattoos.”

  “I’ll hold your hand. You’ll be fine.”

  “I know I’ll be fine because I’m not doing it.” And there was no way in this world he was going to convince her otherwise.

  He cupped her face between large hands—such a gentle touch—and told her, “We are living in a risky world with wraiths killing our friends and border monsters prowling the countryside. This could be our first and final date. We might not live to tell anyone how we feel about each other, so let’s take advantage of the moment.”

  His birthday was fast approaching and it had her scared. She’d already lost her mother. What if he was right and one of them died? “Don’t say that. I don’t even want to think about losing you.”

  “Neither do I.” He glanced at the tattoo place again, and a smile curved his lips. “You get one, and I’ll get one.”

  She thought about it. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea. If Jordan or some other predatory female got ideas about him, they would see the tattoo and know he was taken. It wasn’t like her to be impulsive, but the thought of losing him sent her over the proverbial edge. She couldn’t deal with it. Besides, she couldn’t say no to those dimples. “I want my name on you,” she announced boldly. “If we’re getting tattoos, I get to pick them.”

  “Agreed.”

  They went into the shop where the walls were covered in art. At least a hundred thousand drawings, small and big, waited for consideration. Walking along the longest wall, her gaze scanned them. Nick continuously drifted to things like skulls and daggers. Not romantic. She jerked on his hand, pulling him to the lighter side of designs. “I don’t want my name scrawled over something dead,” she said.

  After several minutes she found the perfect image. There were two small hearts, one slightly overlapping the other. She told the tattoo artist she wanted a light purple heart with a blush pink one. Then she wanted Nick’s name written over the two of them. “Now we have to find one for you,” she said.

  Nick asked the man, “Do you have a heart that’s more… butch?”

  Without laughing at him the artist pulled a book of drawings out. He flipped to a certain page as if he had them memorized, and the man’s third finger underscored a drawing. Inky black, it was a big heart with slightly swirled lines similar to his Bad-Rock tattoo. “This would be a good fit for you,” the artist said.

  Nick looked at her. “What do you think?”

  “As long as you get my name in the middle, I think it’s perfect.”

  “What if we use our nicknames? I’ll get Micki in mine and you can get Tyler in yours. Then if Van sees mine, he won’t know it’s you, and you can wear long sleeves or a bracelet.”

  Warmth began in her stomach and spread to her lower regions. Beautiful. They would have tattoos with their private names for each other. Okay, the name Tyler wasn’t actually private considering he’d been a famous rock star, but now the name belonged to her alone.

  Doubt raised its ugly head. What if this thing between them didn’t work out? She’d have to go through life with his name on her wrist unless she elected to go through a painful removal process. He smiled at her, and her heart soared above the clouds. They belonged together. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind about that, at least not at the moment.

  She walked over to the padded bench and sat on it. Sticking her arm out, she told the tattoo artist she wanted it on the inside of her wrist. He went to work on her while Nick hovered in the background. His concerned eyes didn’t stray for a second. She tried to keep from wincing as the needle repeatedly stabbed her tender flesh, but it hurt like hell, worse than when the mace had gored her in the back. Muscles clenched, she bit her lip to keep from screaming at the guy to stop. It got to the point she didn’t think she could take another second. If he didn’t knock it off, she was going to punch him.

  Nick grabbed her free hand, reading her mind, and their gazes locked. The artist worked fast. Before her eyes a heart appeared. The artist dabbed at the sight when blood seeped through. He changed colors after inking two hearts on her wrist. The man filled one in with blush pink and the other with the perfect shade of pale purple. At the final stages he returned to black ink to write Tyler in the center of the overla
pping hearts.

  “Wait,” Nick said. He picked up a pen with a fine point from the shop counter and used it to write Tyler over the two hearts in fluid cursive, his autograph. The tattoo artist traced the signature with his tool. It was perfect, so intimate it heated her body from head to toe.

  When he finished with her, she traded places with Nick. The pain didn’t seem to bother him. Of course this wasn’t his first tattoo. His eyes remained on her the entire time, and they shared an everlasting smile. An invisible bond wrapped them in a safe cocoon. No one would be able to tear them apart now. Every time Nick glanced at his arm he would be reminded of her. When it came to the signature, she copied his gesture and wrote Micki in the center of the huge heart.

  The artist placed a bandage over the lightly bloody and bruised area after he finished. Then Nick and Bay-Lee walked out of the tattoo parlor, reaching for each other’s hand at the same time. Her fingers slid between his. The sun had gone down while they were inside. The town was lit up, golden lights.

  “We haven’t talked about our future yet,” she reminded him. “This has happened so fast. I thought you hated me and now we’re together. My head is spinning... in a good way, but tell me what you see when you look into our future. What do you want for us?”

  Where would they live?

  Did he want to get married someday?

  How was he going to feel about sailing away into the sunset?

  Silence reigned. She waited patiently, giving him a moment to think. Instead of telling her what she wanted to know, he turned the tables on her. “Where do you see us in five years? How do you want this to end?”

  That was it. She didn’t want it to end. “I guess I haven’t given it much thought either. Before meeting you I had a totally different plan for my life.”

  “What sort of plan?”

  People passed them on the sidewalk, shopping bags in hand, and it seemed so normal, nothing like her real life. She wanted to tell him everything, but the timing didn’t feel right. “I want to be the best hunter the Spirit Realm has ever seen.”

  “Better than me and my boys?” He chuckled. “Good luck.”

  She playfully slugged him in the arm. “I’ve been training for years. I might not be a Van Helsing, but I’ve worked like one. Just watch me. Someday monsters will shiver at the very mention of my name.”

  The statement made him laugh harder, bringing tears to his eyes. When she tried to hit him again, he moved to the side. Her fist sailed through empty air and she lost her balance, but he caught her easily. “I’m sure you’re right,” he said while holding her shoulders. “You are tough and terrifying.”

  “I am.”

  They continued to talk as they rounded the corner and headed for his new sports car. She desperately wanted to tell him about her past, her mother, and her plans for revenge, but she didn’t want to spoil the night. Things were good between them. There would be time for the horrible truth later.