Blood & Ink (Ink Born Book 2) Read online

  I took a seat and tried to think where to start.

  “We, tattoo magicians, are connected to the ink network in much the same way elves are connected to the life networks. When we paint on the tattoo design, we allow the ink network to guide our hands. When we begin the tattoo process, a single drop of our blood is mixed with the ink. That forms the full connection with the ink. We then become conduits for the ink network. We unite your essence with that of the ink.”

  Her golden eyes never left mine. Her smile had gradually widened as I spoke.

  “Thank you for indulging, Mr. Corbeaux. Now drink your tea. It will clear your head and allow you to work.”

  Six

  I’m unsure what was in Ana’s tea. It tasted earthy and tangy. I do know that the fog cleared from my head almost immediately. It was enough that I could push the ink network down and focus. Ana watched me with polite amusement. She kept her hands tucked in her lap and waited. I never had been one to deal with silence very well. I drank the tea as quickly as I could and began preparing for the tattooing. I had placed the last of my brushes out on the silk when a winged menace, more properly called a winged cat, swooped down and stole one.

  “Ilo, bring that back. Now,” Ana snapped.

  The golden-brown and white striped winged cat glared at her from the top of the cupboard over the sink. It had my brush gripped firmly in its mouth. I ground my teeth and glared at it. That brush was one of the few things that was precious to me. I wasn’t beyond plucking the damn thing if that brush was damaged.

  After a long glaring contest, the cat flew down and carefully placed the brush back where it had come from. I ran my fingers over it, checking it for marks and damage. None. The cat would keep its feathers for another day. It had the audacity that only a feline could and head-butted my hand, looking for affection. I raised an eyebrow at it and looked at Ana.

  She smirked and gave a small nod.

  “You may give him what he wants,” she said.

  I didn’t particularly want to stroke it, not after its stunt, but I wasn’t going to be that rude. Touching someone else’s tattoo was always an awkward thing, a sign of trust and affection. The winged menace had folded its wings away and stood next to my brushes purring. I ran my hand over its broad head and down over its feathered back. The soft golden feathers blended into the striped fur just below the base of its wings almost seamlessly. It was a rather impressive creature, twice the size of Kyra and well-muscled. Still, I was there to work. Once it was satisfied that it had received enough affection, it curled up in Ana’s lap, and I returned to my preparations.

  Ana’s pale cream dress was cut away to reveal her strong back, which made my life much easier. Most tattoos were inked onto the client’s back or upper arm, as they were the easiest places to reach. The tattoo then moved and settled on the part of the client’s body they were most comfortable with. Ana turned her back to me, and I opened my senses to begin the familiar process. I opened myself to the ink network to start the painting and was bombarded with shards of colour and darkness. The ink network yanked at my senses and threatened to drown me. I took a sharp breath and fought to regain control.

  “Is everything ok, Mr. Corbeaux?”

  I smiled tightly.

  “Perfectly fine, thank you,” I said.

  Ana nodded and rubbed the base of her cat’s wings, causing its purring to become louder. I tried again, this time prepared for the onslaught. The ink network slipped into my fingers and tugged at my hands, but nothing more. I took another steadying breath and began the painting. It wasn’t my best work, as I had to fight to keep my mind on the moment and not allow the ink to drag me into its depths. Once I was finished, a small otter sat on Ana’s shoulder, patiently waiting to be brought through entirely. Ana giggled and grinned when she saw the painting, delight filling her face.

  “Oh, it’s perfect!” she said.

  I smiled, glad to not have a repeat performance of the previous day.

  Fortunately, the otter was easy to bring through. It bounced around my mind and chittered at me to hurry up when I was inking the final details. Ana had tensed and her cat had begun twitching its tail. The moment the otter was complete, it pressed against Ana’s skin and stepped out into the world. Much to the cat’s clear chagrin, the otter climbed into Ana’s arms and nuzzled against her. Ana’s glee radiated off her.

  “Thank you, Mr. Corbeaux, she’s perfect.”

  I gave her a polite nod and left her to bond with the otter. The cat skulked off to a corner somewhere, no doubt pissed it was no longer the centre of attention. I dreaded to think what havoc it would cause over the coming days. Ana left her payment on the table and left the room with her otter. The sound of running water and laughter soon filled the house. I should have been happy. Nothing compared to the feeling of tattooing, and yet, the entire situation grated against me. I put the money away and headed back home, hoping for two days of sleep. There was no point in trying to tell myself I’d never drink again. I wasn’t stupid enough to believe that lie.

  I hadn’t been paying attention on the tram ride home and got off a stop too early. The snow had begun falling, and I’d forgotten my coat. People insisted on walking slowly and somehow took up more room than was reasonable. I’d given up trying to weave through the crowd, put my hands in my pockets, my head down, and plodded behind a pair of bear shifters. My vision swam in and out of focus as I watched the black and white mosaic path beneath my feet. The ink network had at least backed off. My fingertips still itched, but it was bearable. The world around me had all but ceased to exist as I slowly sank further and further into my own private world.

  “You carry my name when you work, Mr. Corbeaux. Do not show up in such a dismal state again,” a familiar voice growled in my ear.

  I turned to see who it was. My mind caught up when I saw his golden eyes and bared teeth. Fein pushed me against the stone wall of the clothing store. He was the same height as me and a far leaner build, but I shrank back from his glare nonetheless. I’d never backed down from a fight before that moment, but he was more of a predator than any of the shifter alphas I’d gone toe to toe with.

  “My apologies, Mr. Thyrin,” I said as I dropped my eyes and looked away.

  His thumb pressed against the side of my throat. His palm threatened to cut off my airway.

  “I do not give second chances, Mr. Corbeaux,” he whispered.

  With that, he vanished into the crowd, and I found myself torn between cursing and thanking the gods. What had I gotten myself into? And more importantly, could I get myself back out of it again?

  Seven

  The encounter with Fein had rattled me. Exhaustion was beginning to blur the edges of my thoughts and allowed my emotions to run rampant. I walked into the living area at home and began my search for alcohol. There were no clients booked in for a couple of days. I wanted to drown everything out: the infuriating burning sensation from the ink network, the ache in my heart from Isa, and the ripple of fear that ran through me at the memory of Fein. I found a bottle of something Sidhe. I didn’t know the name of it, but I did know it packed quite the punch. The fae all had a far higher alcohol tolerance than other creatures, but they still loved a good party. That meant that their alcohols tended to be incredibly strong, and usually very sweet, too.

  Luka took the bottle from me and passed it to Shadow.

  “You’re stronger than that, Dacian. Go to bed,” he said firmly.

  I’d never tried to drink away my problems before, but then, I’d never been through a break-up before, either.

  “Come on, old friend,” Keirn said gently as he wrapped his arm around my waist.

  The gesture struck me as more intimate than was appropriate, but then, I wasn’t in a relationship anymore. He guided me to my room, which proceeded to spin.

  “Eat,” Vyx said as she thrust a plate of pastries into my hand.

  I took the plate and bit down into the blue pastry without thinking.

  “I
know you hurt, but don’t be an idiot,” Vyx said.

  “Give us a moment, little vixen,” Keirn said quietly.

  Vyx reached out and squeezed my hand. She wasn’t one for physical affection, a hug here and there for those of us who had earned such privileges, but that was something else. She was concerned.

  “Do not allow yourself to spiral. I understand the pain you’re feeling, but you can’t allow it to consume you. Stop it now,” Keirn said.

  Vyx had closed the door behind her.

  “I feel everything and nothing all at once,” I said, feeling like a fool the moment the words were out of my mouth.

  He brushed his lips over my temple. “Get some sleep. It’ll help you heal.”

  With that, he left me with my plate of pastries and the spinning room. It can’t have been more than ten seconds before the ink network leapt on my weakness and dragged me down into its depths.

  The darkness lashed around me. Shards of bright colours sliced into my line of sight before quickly vanishing again. The ink network was berating me for ignoring it. I wanted to have a few words of my own.

  “I am not your tool,” I shouted.

  The darkness stilled.

  “I will not put aside everything the moment you demand it,” I said more calmly.

  I was talking to a magical network. There must have been hundreds of scholars in Europe alone that would have loved to interrogate me on that experience. I took a calming breath. It was a magical network, who knew how much it understood about the lives of people?

  “If you wish me to do something to help you, ask nicely,” I said, feeling as though I were talking to a child.

  A soft breeze fluttered over my face. I got the sensation of an apology.

  “You have a problem? Someone is upsetting your balance?”

  Colours flew in front of me, smudges of yellows and blues, sharp lines of green and square chunks of purple. I squeezed my eyes shut and held up my hand.

  “We need to work on communication. That means nothing to me.”

  I was talking to the ink network. To say the experience was surreal was to call losing a limb a minor wound.

  Another collection of colours spun around me, making me dizzy. I didn’t get another chance to ask for clarification. The network shoved me back into my body with a heavy thud. I was aware of the sound of the plate hitting the ground. My head quickly followed it. It was a bad week.

  Eight

  I woke up and promptly proceeded to panic. There was a great weight on the lower half of my body, and something was covering most of my face. I began to thrash and try to free myself.

  Safe. Kyra pushed.

  I reached to my face and felt her familiar furry body. Aris’ head pressed against my hand, and his cool body slid over my forehead.

  Cougars. Aris sent when I wriggled my legs.

  I moved Kyra and Aris off my head and looked down at my lower body to see the two cougars lay over my legs. They looked at me sleepily. Luka yawned, showing his large teeth, reinforcing the point that I’d woken them up.

  Protection. Kyra pushed.

  “Protection from what?” I asked out loud.

  “Yourself,” Vyx said.

  She padded into the room carrying a plate of fresh pastries and a cup of steaming coffee. My stomach growled in response.

  “You were passed out on the floor. We were worried about you,” she said softly.

  I wriggled out from under the weight of the cougars and sat up. Keirn came into the room and sat on the last spare bit of bed.

  “What happened, Dacian?” Keirn asked gently, worry lines formed around his eyes.

  “The ink network,” I said.

  Everyone shared a look. Creases formed on the cougars’ faces, and Vyx huffed.

  “You can’t let it push you around,” Vyx said.

  I snorted.

  “Easier said than done.”

  “I believe in you,” she said with a bright smile.

  “Thanks, little vixen.”

  She gave a small nod and left, apparently satisfied with the state of things.

  Keirn’s bear wandered into the room and placed his head on Shadow’s shoulders. He looked between Keirn and me with soft eyes. Keirn made a gesture towards the bottom of the bed, which the bear grinned at. He pulled himself up onto the bottom of the bed. Luka managed to pull himself clear before the bear squashed him. The bed was getting rather crowded.

  Keirn ran his elegant fingers through my hair and teased it away from my face.

  “Talk to me, Dacian.”

  I squeezed my eyes closed.

  “I don’t know what I’m doing,” I said eventually.

  Shadow nudged my hand before he rested his chin on it.

  “You’re not alone in this journey,” Keirn said.

  Frustration and anger came from nowhere.

  “The ink network is pushing me around. It’s demanding something, but the gods only know what. I don’t know how I feel about the Isa situation,” I said.

  A knock came from the front door. The cougars slipped off the bed and out into the hallway to investigate. Keirn’s bear followed closely behind them.

  Keirn brushed his lips over my temple, an affection that I had missed. My stomach twisted into knots as I wondered if I was supposed to feel guilty for not chastising him over it.

  “We’re here for you, Dacian,” he said before Vyx appeared in the doorway.

  “We’re all here for you,” she said brightly, “but there’s also someone at the elevator for you.”

  “Who?” I asked.

  She shrugged. “A Cait Sidhe.”

  With that, she wandered off. Keirn placed his hand on my cheek, bringing my focus back to him.

  “Don’t hit on him, Dacian, he means a lot to Fein.”

  I smirked at him.

  “As if I’d do such a thing.”

  Keirn exhaled slowly through his nose. I gave him my cheekiest grin. I wasn’t feeling it, but I had to try. I sauntered out to the entranceway. Fake it till you make it and all that. I leaned against the doorway and looked the Cait Sidhe up and down. Fein had great taste. The man stood before me was slender, elegant, with stunning golden-green eyes. He looked to be a few years younger than me, but fae aged differently to the rest of us. He could easily have been twice my age.

  The Cait Sidhe raised his eyebrow and tensed a little when I shifted my weight closer to him.

  “I’m Tyn, Fein’s Cait Sidhe. You have disgraced yourself,” he said.

  His melodic voice took some of the edge off the words.

  “Excuse me?” I said, anger rising.

  A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. He held out a sheaf of expensive white papers.

  “You’ll be designing and inking sigils to these specifications and handing them to the address given. Cazan will pay you the appropriate amount.”

  I looked from him down to the papers and back again.

  “I thought Cait Sidhe were supposed to be revered, and yet he has you as his errand boy...” I taunted.

  I shouldn’t have, it was a dangerous game, but I was pissed. Tattooing was all I had in that moment, and it had just been stolen from me.

  He pressed the papers to my chest and leaned in close.

  “Fulfil the order in a timely manner. Don’t piss Fein off more than you already have.” He leaned in closer, his breath curling against my neck. “For Keirn’s sake,” he whispered.

  My blood ran cold with a mix of fear and fury. I grabbed the papers but held my tongue. He smirked at me and stepped back into the elevator with the grace and arrogance only the felines could pull off.

  Fucking sigils? Fein had me inking gods-forsaken sigils? I threw the papers down on the small table next to the shoe rack. The gods were determined to fuck me. First the ink network bullshit, then the thief, and the council, then Isa, finally they took away my tattooing. Was this supposed to be one of those tests of faith? I had plenty of faith. Faith that they’d screw me as hard and fr
equently as possible.

  Nine

  I ground my teeth and snatched the papers from the table. Fucking sigil design. I was a tattoo artist. The ink network took that as its cue to begin biting at the back of my mind. I could feel dark shards sinking into my thoughts, trying to drag me into the network. Luka strode up to me, his amber eyes glinting. He pressed his hand to my sternum and lifted his chin a little as he stared me down.

  “Enough,” he growled.

  I pushed against his hand and squared up to him. He was shorter and a smaller build than me. I didn’t know how the fuck he was a bounty hunter. He couldn’t take down a drunk Sidhe, let alone something worth a bounty. He sank his claws into my skin, causing me to pause.

  “I have worked for Fein for a good number of years. You are going to calm yourself, and then you are going to work hard to get into his good graces,” he said calmly.

  Luka was the quieter of the pair. He’d barely said two words to me since I’d moved in a couple of weeks prior. I took a deep breath and reassessed him. His claws remained embedded in my chest as I studied his calm control and hidden strength. It seems I’d been too quick to take him at face value. His mouth was fixed in a tight line that barely concealed the tips of his canines. Dark smudges had begun to appear around his eyes, highlighting his sharp cheekbones.

  “You owe Fein. I understand you’re hurting, but you’re not an idiot. Don’t throw what you have away over one little break-up.”

  Shadow walked up behind Luka and looked between us. His eyes hardened as he took in Luka’s tension.

  “Everything ok here?” Shadow asked.

  Luka tilted his head a fraction and stared me down.

  “Yes. Peachy,” I ground out.

  Luka gave a sharp nod and released me. I resisted the urge to rub at the fresh wounds. My pride had taken enough of a beating.