Blood & Ink (Ink Born Book 2) Page 2

  Drake immediately dropped his hand and his eyes.

  “My apologies,” he muttered.

  “Come, Dacian. We’re done here,” Fein said.

  I touched the back of my head that had begun throbbing. My fingers came away bloody. Fantastic. I glared at the air elemental as I put my brushes away before I walked out of the room and followed Fein onto the street.

  It was a good thing the elf had insisted on sticking around. Who knew how far the elemental would have gone in his rage? I could hold my own in a bar fight, but he had an unfair advantage. When Fein had said drama fits, I hadn’t pictured them being quite that severe. The elf sighed and tucked his hands into the pockets of his black tailored suit. He was rather striking. I’d have been tempted to test the employee-employer boundaries had I have been single. I pushed the thoughts aside. Even if I were single, that would have been one hell of a risk. He had just made the second chair in one of the magical houses back down in a split second. That meant he held a huge deal of political and magical sway. I stole a glance at him. What had I gotten myself into?

  “My apologies, Dacian. I hadn’t expected him to be quite such a fool,” he said as he handed me a bundle of money.

  “I’ve already taken my cut for this month’s rent,” he added without looking at me.

  I put the money away and smiled. Perhaps a little head injury was worth it. I realised that I didn’t know what I’d spend the money on. I was hoarding it out of habit. It was always good to have some emergency money, but I didn’t have anything I wanted in the short term. Outside of Isa’s arrival, there was nothing I was looking forward to. I was living day to day, and suddenly that seemed incredibly depressing.

  The familiar itch of the ink network formed in the back of my mind. It tugged at my thoughts and made my fingertips ache. I forced myself to take in the details of my surroundings. The chirping, mewling sound of baby pygmy gryphons came from a broad tree with pale green leaves. It seemed an odd time to have baby anything. I watched as a pixie dove into the tree. The baby gryphons would have made him a fine meal. A dying screech soon came from within the dense foliage, quickly followed by a puka, a woman dressed in blood red and white with silver tabby striped hair and the feline ears and tail to match. She dropped the limp pixie into her mouth and casually sauntered down the road. There really was no such thing as a soft or gentle fae.

  A newspaper headline caught my attention. An art thief had struck again last night.

  “The artists are infuriated,” Fein said.

  I frowned and looked at him. He nodded towards the newspaper. I realised that he likely had some involvement with the artists; he seemed to be involved in a lot of the city.

  “I’m sure they are,” I said noncommittally.

  I didn’t know where I stood with the elf, and the ink network was increasingly insistent, which made conversation difficult. A firm pressure followed by sharp pain on the back of my head brought my focus back. Fein had pressed his fingers to the injury the elemental had given me. He frowned, a surprisingly soft expression on his sharp face.

  “Can you see clearly?”

  I shrugged.

  “My vision seems fine, I’m sure a life-magic kit will fix it up in no time.”

  His eyes narrowed slightly. He gave me the same look Keirn did when he was debating whether to push a point or not.

  “Your next client will go much more smoothly. Nine am tomorrow.”

  With that, he turned and walked down the road opposite me. The Cait Sidhe followed at a short distance, its tail flicking as it did so. I crossed back into the non-magical portion of the city and breathed deeply. The step away from the magic had loosened the ink network’s grip on me. I glanced back at the elf and the Cait Sidhe and reminded myself to ask Keirn about that phenomenon. It seemed like a good idea to get a better grasp on who held my life in his hands.

  Four

  I took the long route home. The ink network was gnawing at the back of my mind, and I was in no mood to deal with it. I avoided the bustling city centre, instead wandering through the more artistic neighbourhoods and allowing everything to wash over me. Life was good, or so I kept telling myself. Isa would be joining me soon, I had a steady, well-paying job and good friends. What more could I want? The back of my head stung in response. The hair around the injury was starting to mat with the blood. I sighed and turned back for home. It felt as though my mind was growing raw from the ink network. It was grating against my fears and frustrations, producing an almost physical pain.

  By some stroke of luck, the apartment was clean and paint free when I walked in. Luka gave me a soft smile and began making some coffee. Shadow walked behind him, trailing his fingertips along Luka’s lower back, causing the shifter to lean back into him. They practically radiated happiness. Vyx walked up to me with her eyes narrowed and a scowl on her face.

  “You look grumpy,” she stated.

  I snorted. “Rough day.”

  Kyra jumped onto my shoulder and pawed at the back of my head.

  Blood she accused.

  I pushed her off.

  “Having you pawing at it won’t heal it, you silly cat,” I scolded.

  She flicked her tail at me.

  “What happened?” Vyx said, standing on her tip-toes to inspect the back of my head.

  Shadow pushed the healing kit into my hands.

  “We smelt the blood,” he said with a small shrug.

  Vyx narrowed her eyes further.

  “I’m fine!” I said.

  She crossed her arms and continued to glare at me, waiting. I pulled out the necessary ointment and began applying it to the wet patch on my head.

  “An air elemental didn’t like his tattoo. He threw me into a marble wall,” I said.

  “You should be more careful,” Vyx said.

  I looked down at her. “I can’t choose what tattoos people are given, little vixen,”

  She huffed.

  I left my boots on the boot rack near the front door and collapsed onto the big sofa. It was soft enough that I’d fallen asleep on it more than once. The black cushions gave way just enough to be supportive and very comfortable. I was too tired to continue my studies with sigils and the ink network. It was time for some mindless television while I waited for Isa to call.

  “What will happen to the tattoo now?” Vyx asked as she sat next to me.

  I frowned. I wasn’t entirely sure. I remembered how bright and happy the little parrot had felt.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Has it lost its chance at life?”

  “Maybe,” I said noncommittally.

  That hadn’t been covered in college. I suspected no one knew.

  “That’s not fair. You should give it life, Dacian.”

  I laughed softly and looked at her.

  “And how am I to do that, little vixen?”

  She fixed me with a stubborn glare. “Through the ink.”

  I raised an eyebrow at her.

  “You know how. I know you do,” she pushed.

  “I don’t want to dabble in that magic.”

  “It’s one little tattoo.”

  “How do you know it’s little?”

  “You wouldn’t be considering it if it weren’t,” she said with a triumphant grin.

  I sighed and looked at the clock. It would be a while before Isa rang, and I did feel bad about the little parrot losing its chance at life. The cougars weren’t paying us any attention. They were curled up together on the armchair, lost in their own happy little world.

  New friend? Kyra pushed.

  I glanced over at my bag with my inks in. What harm would it do?

  Play nicely I pushed back.

  The last thing I needed was her chasing the poor parrot around the damn apartment.

  Vyx followed me over to my bag and watched, rapt, as I pulled out the inks and cautiously opened myself to the ink network. It was being particularly pushy and argumentative. I pooled a small amount of red, green, and yellow i
nk into three separate puddles on the table. Taking a deep breath, I pricked my finger and allowed a drop of blood to fall into each of the pools of ink.

  The network hit me hard. I drove it back and pulled forward the memory of the parrot. I fought off the swirling darkness and focused on the parrot. Its feathers tickled my mind as it cautiously hopped closer. I encouraged it as best as I could and watched as the ink began to tremble. Slowly, the pools of ink shivered and rippled before they came together and pulled upwards to form the parrot. Vyx giggled and grinned at me. She reached out and stroked the small bird’s feathers.

  “Oh, Dacian, he’s wonderful!”

  The parrot hopped up onto her finger. The moment of triumph was marred by my wondering if I had just stolen the elemental’s tattoo. No, he had refused it. He wasn’t going to bring it through. I reassured myself that I had done nothing wrong as Vyx fussed over the parrot that preened and thoroughly enjoyed her attentions.

  The parrot was a very happy, friendly little bird. It behaved itself as Vyx introduced it to everyone and made no attempts to cause trouble.

  “You gave him life,” Vyx said with a grin.

  And yet I was still debating if I’d done the right thing.

  I’d fallen asleep at some point. One moment I was admiring the tight ass of the lead character in the TV show, the next Kyra was biting my ear and pushing Isa time down the bond.

  I rubbed behind her ears and thanked her. She could have used a gentler method, of course, but she meant well. I felt like hell. My sleep pattern had been shot to pieces, and I hadn’t shaved properly in a couple of days. I was edging out of sexy stubble into scruffy beard territory. It wasn’t a look I could pull off. Still, I tried to tidy my hair as I walked to my room and hoped Isa could forgive my appearance.

  The mirror was a simple affair. We had no need for anything extravagant, after all. I had perched mine on the small desk that sat against the far wall in my bedroom. I ran my finger over the small indent on the edge. It had been tuned to open to Isa’s mirror and his alone. I didn’t need to try and input a particular connection. Butterflies formed in my stomach as I tried to tidy myself up in the few seconds left before I saw him, or more accurately, he saw me.

  The mirror flickered and shimmered before it revealed Isa. His apartment sprawled out behind him, fitted with modern conveniences and home comforts. I grinned at him, feeling the tension of the day slip away.

  “It’s good to see you,” I said.

  “You look like hell,” he replied with a soft laugh that didn’t reach his eyes.

  My grin slipped. Something was wrong.

  He dragged his slender fingers through his hair. I remembered how it felt to do the same. I craved the physical contact with him.

  “I... I have something I need to say.”

  He didn’t look at me. My stomach dropped. I knew where this was going. He looked at me. A crease had formed between his eyebrows. His pretty mouth was fixed in a line.

  “I have a good life here. I’ve been offered two more big contracts...”

  A flicker of pride formed within me. He’d fought so hard for the success he was enjoying. He deserved every second of it.

  “This, there’s no way of putting this, Dacian. I just... the time away has been easier than it should have been. I’m sorry, but...”

  I didn’t need to hear any more. We were over. He wasn’t going to leave Wildrun, and I’d been a fool in thinking he would. I forced a smile and cut him off. I hadn’t been listening to his platitudes.

  “I understand, Isa. You’re building an incredible life, and I’m proud of you and all you’ve accomplished.”

  A genuine smile spread across his face, the tension through his shoulders easing.

  “Thanks, Dacian, that means a lot. I’m going to go, though, it seems... cruel otherwise.”

  “Take care, Isa.”

  I brushed my thumb over the gentle indent on the edge of the mirror and closed down the communication.

  Hurting? Kyra pushed.

  No. I replied.

  Lying.

  I took a steadying breath and headed into the living area.

  “Keirn, what spirits do we have in?” I called out.

  Kyra leapt on me and Aris wound his way around my legs. I fell into Shadow, who wrapped his arms around me. Luka hugged me from the other side. I had to laugh, more to stop from crying than anything. I was stuck in the mandatory group hug until I had to push them away so I could breathe. Kyra had climbed onto my shoulder and was rubbing her cheek against mine, purring. Aris had draped himself over my shoulders, and the shifters had stepped back just enough for me to breathe.

  “What happened?” Keirn asked.

  “His weaver broke up with him,” Luka said softly.

  “I’ll get the vodka. We can work from there,” Keirn said.

  Five

  Keirn and I drank until eight the next morning. The shifters slipped off to bed after their first drink, and Vyx stuck to fruit juice until she took the small furries to bed at midnight. The little parrot had perched on her shoulder, half-hidden in her hair for the duration. It felt good to relax and laugh with Keirn again. He knew exactly what to say. Of course, that didn’t change the fact that I had an hour to shower, shave, sober up, and get to the client’s house. I didn’t dare look in a mirror. I didn’t need to see a reflection to know I looked like a wreck. The cold shower helped wake me up a bit, just enough to feel the ink network grating at my nerves, making my fingertips feel like they were on fire. The coffee, complete with alchemical boost, cleared my head enough to remember where I was supposed to be going.

  The shifters were heading out into the city and thus accompanied me down to the tram stop. I leaned back against the wall of the herbalist’s while the cougars stood near the bench. I couldn’t help but notice how happy Shadow and Luka made each other. It was in every shared moment and small touch, the way they melted into each other. Something as simple as waiting for a tram was somehow transformed into a romantic experience, something to be savoured and noted. Winter was really coming into its own. The grey sky was smooth and threatened another few inches of snow. The shifters stood by the side of the road, patiently waiting. Luka’s fingers trailed along Shadow’s palm, causing him to curl his fingers and press his fingertips against his husband’s. Nothing was said, and yet the way Shadow’s body relaxed and curved towards Luka said everything. They were each other’s sanctuary. A fleeting smile could erase a dark frown and return the spark to their eyes. When they did choose to speak, they listened intently and appeared to weigh each syllable and pause, reveling in the presence of each other. They shared the love most people didn’t dare dream of having.

  A sharp pang of jealousy cut into my thoughts. I pushed it aside and reminded myself that they deserved their happiness. They were good guys. The tram arrived as I was trying to pull myself together and get my head in the game. The client was another rich magician, this time a high elf. The self-given name had always struck me as pure arrogance. Elves were split by their home environment, snow elves versus wood elves and so on. High elves, however, did not live in high places. No, they had given up the concept of living out in nature long ago. A more appropriate name would have been city elves, given that they had chosen to migrate to the cities and make their homes there. Keirn had explained that that had led to a lot of friction between them and the other elves. I just hoped that she was calm and accepted her tattoo. I didn’t have it in me to put on a front. I barely had it in me to put one foot in front of the other and walk down the street to her front door.

  I almost missed my tram stop and had to squeeze through the doors as they tried to close on me. The driver rang his little bell and glared at me. I smiled sweetly and gave him a little wave before I looked around for the street I needed. The buildings were all carved stone with runes and sigils running up along their edges. I frowned and peered at the signs on each of the corners before I finally figured out I needed the narrow road with cobblestones. Anot
her tram dinged its bell at me when I stepped out in front of it. I gave him a cute little wave and continued on. It had been a long time since I’d drunk as much as I had through the night, but I’d needed it. I couldn’t face the wall of emotions.

  The buildings were far more subdued than I had expected. Where the air elemental had been flashy, the elf’s building was simple hewn stone with a vine pattern engraved around the wooden door. The door opened before I had a chance to knock. A large clock just inside the doorway told me I was late. The morning was just getting better and better. A rather striking woman with skin the colour of burnished bronze stepped into view. She greeted me with a gentle smile and gestured for me to step inside. The house was dimly lit, which didn’t come as a surprise given Keirn preferred lower light, given the option. The walls were bare, and the ceilings weren’t particularly tall. It was the complete opposite of the air elemental’s house. The elf led me into a spacious kitchen, where she began preparing tea. She hadn’t spoken a word, and I was beginning to feel uncomfortable.

  “I’m Dacian Corbeaux. Fein sent me to bring through your tattoo,” I said.

  It was difficult to feel the buzz of her tattoo through the incessant itching burning of the ink network that felt as though it was trying to burrow through the back of my skull.

  The elf turned to face me, the soft smile remaining on her face despite her eyes wandering over my no doubt very scruffy appearance.

  “Call me Ana. Tell me how this process works while your tea steeps.”

  Her voice was gentle and melodic. She moved with grace and elegance as she crossed the space between us, a delicate white tea cup in her hands. She placed the tea down on the small table next to me.

  “I was told this was your second tattoo,” I said cautiously.

  Her smile broadened, revealing sharp white teeth.

  “That doesn’t mean I understand how the process works, Mr. Corbeaux. Indulge my curiosity.”

  Her tone was a gentle plea wrapped around a demand. Her smile didn’t change the fact that I was the employee in the situation.