Tragic Ink: (A Havenwood Falls Novella)

by Heather Hildenbrand

  “While that is probably true, between these and a few internal matters, we simply don’t have the manpower to assign an official protective detail at this time.”

  “I have a friend I can call,” Rhys said.

  Elsmed tilted his head as if listening into the silence, then his eyes lit. “Gargoyles?” he asked, and Rhys nodded.

  “I’ll call Everett before we leave,” Rhys said. “He can have two of them here in a couple of hours or less.”

  I was a little surprised at how easily Elsmed accepted that Rhys was taking matters into his own hands. Clearly, this wasn’t the first time he and Rhys had worked together. I considered arguing about the protective detail, but knowing there were others watching out for me did make me feel better right now.

  Elsmed turned to me. “I do recommend you resume your herbal supplements.”

  “My . . .” The mistletoe and the cedar wood. “You knew about that?”

  “I was the one who suggested it,” he said.

  “But my mother gave those instructions before she sent me here from Faerie.”

  “Exactly.”

  My jaw opened. “You were there? When I was sent here?”

  “I’ve had an eye on you for a long time, Gwen. You are very special and important to your people.”

  My people. He spoke as if they belonged to me. Or I to them. Like I should have felt a connection somehow. But how could I connect with a people I’d never even met?

  “Funny. I don’t feel very special. Or important.”

  “That’s because Havenwood Falls is about equality. Blending in. Many of our citizens come here to get off the radar. The ones who are on it don’t particularly like the sort of attention that comes with it.”

  “When this is all over, I’d very much like to visit Faerie,” I said. The words were out before I’d thought much about them. But as they settled in the space between us, I knew I’d meant them. Without Aelwyn, I had nothing tying me here. There was Rhys, but . . . I didn’t want to think about how complicated that felt just now. Or how uncertain.

  Elsmed nodded. “Take a few days. Lay low. Stay with Rhys. We’re doing all we can to look into the portal and the deaths. The wards in this town won’t allow an intruder to go undetected for long, glamoured or not. Once this is resolved, we’ll discuss your trip.”

  He rose, and Rhys did the same. Finally, I did too, thoughts racing at the idea that I might get to see where I came from. More importantly, I would get to meet my mother.

  Elsmed opened the door and stood just outside in the hall. A clear signal this meeting was over.

  Rhys nodded at the elder as he passed through, heading back the way we’d come with heavy steps. I moved to do the same, but Elsmed stopped me, bending close.

  “The hellhound was quite the creation, you know.”

  I went still. Again, trying to decipher his true meaning. “I . . . It’s awful the way it was used,” I said.

  “True. Still . . . very creative. And impressive.”

  “Thank you?” I couldn’t help that it came out like a question. No one had ever complimented me like this before. Like it was a gift rather than a curse. Like I should be proud.

  “Don’t worry. She won’t bother you much longer,” he added, and I blinked, hope blossoming immediately.

  “How do you know?” I asked, too desperate for answers to care too much about implicating myself any further.

  He patted my arm before dipping his head and striding off, his steps completely silent against the stained hardwood. His driver-slash-secretary fell into line behind him. I stared after them, hoping like hell he was right.

  Chapter 13

  I slammed the cabinet doors, stomping around the kitchen as I eavesdropped on Rhys’ phone call with Sheriff Kasun. I didn’t even know what I was looking for, exactly; something to take the edge off, maybe. When I finally settled on a beer and a bag of chips and stomped out again, I found Rhys leaning against the doorframe, watching me. He offered a small smile as he tossed his phone on the narrow breakfast bar.

  “What did that cabinet ever do to you?” he joked.

  I scowled and shoved past him, flopping onto his leather couch.

  Behind me, I heard the fridge open and close. A moment later, Rhys joined me on the couch with a drink of his own. It dawned on me then how rude I’d just been to help myself to his alcohol and not offer him one, too. I sighed, cracked my beer, and reminded myself I was a guest here. And Rhys was actually trying to help me. He didn’t deserve my temper.

  “Sorry,” I muttered, and since I didn’t say the word often, it grated on me. “I just want to strangle the sheriff for not taking this seriously.”

  Rhys took a long drink and nodded. “I can’t disagree about the strangling part. But they’re doing what they can on the investigation.”

  Elsmed had warned us the police wouldn’t share any information on the case, but Rhys had tried anyway, hoping for a different answer. No such luck.

  “I heard the conversation just now,” I admitted.

  “Then you heard Kasun explain they can’t comment on an ongoing investigation.”

  I pinned him with a look. “Why do you think I’m irritated? Come to think of it, why aren’t you irritated?”

  “Simple.” Rhys shrugged. “If Kasun isn’t willing to comment, it means you’re not the only suspect. It means they’re actually looking into this from all angles. Following all leads. It means they’re going to help us catch this guy.”

  “Or I am the suspect and he knows that puts you guys on opposite sides,” I pointed out.

  “Kasun doesn’t know what I am to you,” Rhys said.

  “Oh.” I sat back, unsure what to say. Did I know what Rhys was to me? Did he?

  We drank in silence for a moment. Our earlier meeting with Elsmed Fairchild played on a loop in my mind—especially his promise at the end to take care of Ada for me. If he managed to do that, I wouldn’t have to give any more magical tattoos. Maybe ever. Just the thought of it made my shoulders a little less heavy. That and knowing two gargoyles had arrived to sit outside and keep an eye out for glamoured fae.

  “She would be proud of you, you know.”

  The words jarred me, yanking me out of my hopeful daydreams of a very boring life as a very normal tattoo artist. I blinked up and found Rhys watching me closely. His words sank in slowly, and my chest ached as I thought of her. Aelwyn.

  “I don’t know. She was always pushing me to embrace the magic. To find a different side, to see it as a blessing instead of a curse.” I shook my head. “If she were here now, she’d probably just lecture me some more about having faith in the universe or something.”

  “You don’t?” he prompted.

  “What?”

  “Have faith?”

  “I have faith that what you put out comes back. And that there are a lot of bad people in the world—and more of them seem to be drawn to my gift than anyone good.” I couldn’t help the bitterness that coated that last word.

  “You expect bad things to happen to you.”

  I shrugged. “Expect the worst, hope for the best.”

  Rhys looked away, his face falling and his expression clouding over into something unreadable. I swallowed hard, not sure why I was suddenly struck with the urge to comfort him.

  “I hate that,” he said finally, his voice raw and coarse in the silence.

  “What—” I began, but he shocked me into silence by getting up and coming to sit beside me on the couch. He set his beer aside and folded his leg, sitting sideways so he could face me. His knee jutted gently against my thigh, and my leg tingled at the small contact.

  “It’s my fault. For shutting you out and making it hard for you to trust people. I’m so sorry for that. I hope you can forgive me, Gwen. I hope . . . Aelwyn would want us to be there for each other.”

  My stomach tightened. “So all of this . . .” I waved my hand around at his living room. “It’s for her?”

  “What? No. Of course
not.”

  “Because you weren’t going to tell me the truth about yourself otherwise, were you?”

  “Gwen, I—”

  “How long are your orders for?”

  He sat back. “What do you mean?”

  “Your oath to protect me,” I said. “Will it end when this threat is over? Or will it continue?”

  “I have sworn to protect you for as long as you are alive,” he said, and the way he said the words sent tingles down my spine.

  “And are there . . . rules about getting involved with me? Will you get in trouble if we . . .?”

  “No trouble,” he said softly. “But there is one rule.”

  “What is it?” I asked, not even sure I wanted to know based on the intense expression he wore.

  Gently, Rhys took the bag of chips and set both it and my drink on the coffee table. Then he scooted in again.

  He took a deep breath before he spoke. “Once we’re together, we can never break up. It’s all or nothing for Protectors. Our choice has to be final.”

  “Oh.” I licked my lips, not quite daring to tell him that’s how it already was for me.

  His eyes burned into mine. “That’s why I stopped our kiss and walked away from you before. What I felt for you was so deep, and I knew what would happen if we continued. I knew there would be no going back for me, and I couldn’t let that happen without you fully understanding what you were getting into.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked. “What would have happened?”

  “My soul would have forged a connection with yours, and that’s not something I can break,” he admitted. “You would have been trapped.”

  I blinked, staring into his dark eyes, searching to be sure he was serious. “Oh,” I said again. I was so smooth.

  “I understand if you need to think about it now. Take all the time—”

  “I don’t need to think about it,” I said quickly, then blew out a breath. “Sorry, I guess this is unexpected. I didn’t think you’d ever . . .” I searched for words that hopefully wouldn’t sound as awkward as they did in my head. “Rhys, you’ve had my heart since the moment I saw you.”

  He scooted closer. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear you say that.”

  “Yes, I do,” I said, the words no louder than a whisper. “Because I’ve wanted it all along too.” My heart thudded wildly, and I swallowed hard against the nerves I felt admitting all of it aloud, but he’d already apologized—more than once—and made it clear how he felt about me. All while I’d thrown it back in his face. And for what? To punish him? Except all it did was punish me, too. And I was tired of doing that. If Rhys was offering himself up, I was going to take him. Rhys was my Protector, but he was also my one and only love.

  “I’m sorry for being so angry all the time,” I said.

  “You had a right,” he began, but I shook my head.

  “I use anger to cover my hurt so that people can’t really see me, but all that does is make the pain worse. I want you to see the real me, Rhys.”

  “Gwen, you have to know how sorry I am about hurting you before.” His voice was rough with emotion. “But I couldn’t risk breaking my oath, and I had to protect you first and foremost. That kiss . . .” He trailed off, his expression twisting into regret.

  “It’s in the past.” I reached for his face and ran a hand down his stubbled cheek. “I loved you when I was six and I love you now, Rhys Graywalk. You are my choice, always.”

  His lips spread into a slow smile that lit his eyes. “I love you, too, Gwen Facharro. I always have, and I always will.”

  Slowly, he reached out and let his fingers trail down my cheek and around my neck. The air around us felt tense, like the universe was just waiting for us to make the next move.

  Rhys leaned in. His lips brushed over mine, and just that soft, quick contact was enough to make me tremble. I squeezed my hands together, praying he hadn’t noticed the way my arms shook at his touch. But then I opened my eyes and caught sight of his wary expression. My eyes widened. “What’s wrong?”

  “I just want to make absolutely sure,” he said uncertainly.

  “Sure of what?” I asked, but he was eyeing my arms, his glance skittering over my torso and up to the ink that peeked out from underneath the collar of my shirt. “What are you doing?” I asked when he reached for the hem of my shirt and yanked it up, scanning the tattoos covering my abdomen and hips.

  “After the chastity belt incident, I’m not taking any more chances,” he said, frowning as he inspected my skin. “I need to know if you have any more magic ink up your sleeve.” He grinned up at me, still holding my shirt up. “No pun intended.”

  “Hilarious,” I said, yanking my shirt down again. “And no, you’re safe.”

  The wariness turned to a calculating gleam full of mischief. This was a side of Rhys I hadn’t seen in ages. “Am I now?”

  I leaned away, cocking my head as he crawled closer, forcing me back until I was lying flat and he hovered over me. The romantic moment had vanished, but in its place was a playfulness I’d missed.

  “Well, I don’t know about safe. But nothing is going to attack you if you kiss me,” I said.

  He grinned, his teeth flashing at me just before his lips feathered across my own. “That’s too bad,” he said, lowering his body to mine. He paused long enough to wink as he added, “I’ve always secretly hoped it would be you doing the attacking in the end.”

  I wasn’t one to disappoint.

  Chapter 14

  A buzzing sound stirred me from sleep. The following thud jolted me awake. I looked around, half panicked until I realized the sound was just a cell phone vibrating with an incoming call. Rhys looked up at me from the floor, where he’d rolled off the couch thanks to our still-entwined ankles. He blinked dazedly before reaching for his phone on the coffee table. I sat up and ran a hand through my tangled hair as I struggled to get my bearings. It was early—too early for sunlight judging from the darkness that framed the edges of the closed blinds. I tried to remember how we’d both ended up tangled and half-naked on the couch. Empty beer bottles littered the coffee table along with cartons of rice and noodles.

  Last night came crashing back to me in a renewed wave of heat, leaving my body tingling as I remembered the way it had felt with Rhys pressed against me, bared skin to bared skin.

  “Yeah.” Rhys greeted whoever was on the other end in a gravelly voice that drew my eyes to his. He stared back at me as he listened, his dark hair wild from sleep. His hand reached for my arm and stroked lazily—until he suddenly stopped moving, all of his attention focused on the caller. “Are you shitting me?”

  I glanced up from where my gaze had wandered down his bare chest. He frowned, the expression sending his brows furrowing. He listened for another moment and then grunted a goodbye before hanging up and tossing the phone back to the coffee table. It slid and bumped a Napoli’s takeout container before coming to a stop.

  “Who was that?” I asked.

  “Emile. The bar manager,” he said, and judging by his tone, I knew that wasn’t a good thing. He rose, fumbling through the pile of clothes on the floor and picking out his jeans. He tugged them on quickly, which only made me more alert.

  “He was calling you now?” I asked.

  “He just locked up and left. Late night,” he added, when my eyes widened as I noted the time.

  “What did he say?”

  “He found something outside he thought we should see.”

  Before I could ask what it was, there was a sharp knock on the apartment door. Rhys jumped up, his jeans slung low on his hips as he padded down the hall. I listened as the front door to the apartment opened. Low voices rumbled, too quiet for me to make out more than a few words.

  “Thanks, man,” I heard Rhys say before the door clicked shut.

  A second later, he reappeared, a manila folder in hand. His expression was tight, and my stomach clenched at what could possibly be inside.

  I
waited while Rhys opened the flap and pulled out a handful of photos, fanning them out on his lap. My chest tightened, and my stomach dropped straight to my knees. I went still, staring at the photos as Rhys picked up each one and examined it for a long moment.

  “This asshole’s a real piece of work,” he muttered.

  I couldn’t believe he was so calm about it all. But then, it wasn’t his future on the line here. And maybe that made less of an impact somehow.

  I could only stare, openmouthed and speechless, as Rhys flipped through them all. A candid of me standing in Aelwyn’s backyard the night she died, Ethan peeling away from my skin, half-inked and half-formed as he took flight. Another of the hellhound, a shimmering, translucent monster, passing through the door of Rhys’s truck as it led us on the chase. And a third—this one showing Rhys and me locked in a heated kiss with me straddling him in the cab of his truck.

  All of them were invasive and threatening in a different way. And all of them made it clear that whoever had taken them knew my deepest secrets. Not just my gift for ink, but my feelings. Rhys. They knew about Rhys. And the message was clear: they could get to me, to him, anytime they wanted. One way or another, eventually, they were going to hurt me.

  “I think I’m going to be sick.” I clutched my stomach, willing it to settle against the churning panic. I rose, pacing and shoving a hand through my hair over and over again.

  “Calm down, Gwen. He’s just trying to intimidate you—”

  “Well, it’s working!”

  Rhys frowned.

  I blew out a breath. “He knows my secret, Rhys.” I gestured to the photo of Ethan. “He knows what I can do.”

  “That’s why we have to show these to Sheriff Kasun.”

  “Are you kidding? Hell, no. Forget the sheriff. If he sees these, I’ll be a suspect of totally different crimes. We need to handle this ourselves.”

  “Gwen, they need to know who we’re—”

  “You show them those photos and the first thing they’ll do is lock me up.”

  “Elsmed then.”