Stolen Ink (Ink Born Book 1)

by Holly Evans

  I looked him up and down, in his well-worn jeans and scruffy shirt with holes in the cuffs. No one was going to hire him looking like that. I frowned and ran my thumb over the bruise on his cheek.

  “What happened?” I asked.

  He looked down and away. “My boss didn’t appreciate my resignation.”

  “Did he pay you what you were owed?”

  He shrugged and still refused to look up at me. “Some of it.”

  “Isaiah…” I sighed. “What am I supposed to do with you?” I asked gently.

  “I am not some mutt,” he snapped back.

  I stared him down. He took a step closer to me and leaned in a little.

  “Sorry.”

  “When did you last eat?” I asked.

  He chewed on his bottom lip.

  “You’re no use to anyone if you don’t eat. Come with me, I’ll cook you some dinner,” I said.

  “Are you sure?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Thank you, Dacian,” he said with more strength and conviction than I expected.

  I smiled and gestured down towards home. “Come on, then.”

  I put my arm around his small waist and frowned when I felt him flinch. The temptation to find the asshole who did that to him and give him some of his own medicine was strong.

  20

  I’d expected Keirn to be locked away in his art room when I entered the kitchen. Instead, Kyra launched herself at Isaiah and Keirn pulled me into a deep hug. Kyra, being the disloyal little wretch that was, set about purring on Isaiah’s shoulder while Keirn kissed my cheek and held me close. I pulled back.

  “I need to breathe,” I said.

  Keirn held onto my upper arms.

  “I’m so glad you’re ok, Dacian. I heard the news and feared the worst!” he said.

  “The news…?” I asked.

  “There’s been another tattoo theft, at the college campus.”

  I froze. “When?”

  “Twenty or thirty minutes ago. I was so worried.”

  “Who was your source? Do you know who the victim was?” I asked.

  He shook his head and released me. “Adam was delivering some supplies to the hedgewitch department and he heard. He rang me.”

  “Ring him. Find out who the victim was,” I said, perhaps too firmly.

  Keirn smiled and stepped back, his eyes focused over my shoulder. I looked back and remembered Isaiah, who looked furious.

  “I see I’m not your only lover,” he ground out, his hands balled into fists.

  Keirn and I spoke at the same time.

  “He’s not.”

  “I’m not.”

  Isaiah narrowed his eyes and looked between us. I took his hand and rubbed the inside of his wrist with my thumb.

  “He’s my oldest friend, and my tattoo partner. We regularly put our lives in each other’s hands,” I said.

  “We haven’t slept together in a long time,” Keirn added.

  I wouldn’t have called it a long time, but then I wouldn’t have mentioned having slept together at all. Isaiah’s face remained hard, but Kyra began licking the top of his ear and kneaded his collarbone. He finally softened when Keirn left the room to make his phone call. I didn’t know what I was supposed to do. We’d slept together once, and yet he was acting as though we were in a committed relationship. There was certainly a spark between us, but that was quite the leap.

  Isaiah stood a little taller and put his shoulders back. He met my eyes with a hardness in his own.

  “You’re the first man to treat me with kindness and respect, Dacian, I’d rather not lose that,” he said.

  There was such strength within him, a fierceness I found myself admiring. He stood there with more conviction and determination than I’d seen in a long time.

  “We’ll take things one step at a time. I am not screwing Keirn, or anyone else. Anyone other than you at least,” I said.

  He smiled.

  “Can I help with dinner?” he asked while rubbing Kyra’s cheek.

  “Not yet. It’s a bit early. You can put on some coffee, though,” I said.

  Keirn came back into the room as white as a sheet.

  “It was Ms. Goldarn. They stole her tiger,” he said.

  My heart pounded in my ears.

  “I was there… I couldn’t have left five minutes before the thief was there,” I said.

  I tried to swallow down the lump that had formed in my throat. She must have died in absolute agony. Surely I must have seen the thief, they were right there, and I had no idea. Keirn squeezed my shoulder and pushed a chair behind me. I slumped down into it, unable to think straight.

  Isaiah wrapped his arms around me and pressed his cheek to mine. Kyra hopped onto my other shoulder. It felt a little odd with his small frame wrapped around my much larger one, but I took the support that was offered.

  “Ms. Goldarn was Dacian’s mentor, of sorts,” Keirn said quietly.

  Isaiah brushed his lips over the sensitive skin behind my ear.

  “I’m sorry, Dacian,” he said.

  I ran my fingers through his hair and gave him a weak smile. “I appreciate it.”

  I took a deep breath and allowed the shock to shift over to rage. We would find her murderer and put an end to it. No more people were going to die horrific deaths.

  “Did you get any new information, Keirn?” I asked.

  “The killer seems to be targeting powerful tattoos. Each victim had a large predator taken from them.”

  Ms. Goldarn’s tiger was well known for its strength. It was one of the more impressive tattoos in the city. The killer must have felt it was quite the prize.

  “Well, we know those with songbirds aren’t at risk then,” I said with false cheer.

  The feral finally appeared out of whatever dark corner she’d been hiding in. She and Isaiah had a silent standoff, both scrawny little things with sharp eyes and cores of steel. Finally, the feral smiled and bowed her head a little to Isaiah. He turned away and began making the coffee in response.

  The door to the tattoo parlour slammed against the wall. Keirn and I stood and jogged into the parlour to see what the fuck was going on. Two men in suits stood in the middle of the room, backs straight, and eyes harder than any blade.

  “Dacian Corbeux?” the blond snapped at me.

  I put my shoulders back and prepared to defend what was mine.

  “Yes,” I growled back.

  “We have questions for you about the death of Ms. Goldarn. You were seen in her office just before her death,” the blond said.

  “And you are?” I said, crossing my arms.

  “Enforcer Flynn and Enforcer Scythe.”

  Somehow, my day had gotten even worse. Scythe was another military magician from the fucking council. I couldn’t be sure what type of magician Flynn was, but it wasn’t going to be lullabies.

  “What were you doing in her office?” Scythe demanded.

  Keirn shut the door behind them and put up the closed sign. No good came from a client walking into that mess.

  “I was asking her about some tattoo magic theory,” I said.

  “Hold out your hand,” Flynn said as he produced a delicate knife.

  The gods were really screwing with me. They’d sent a fucking blood magician. I cursed each and every one of them.

  21

  “Stand still. If you refuse to submit to this, we will be left with no option but to drag you back to the enforcer headquarters, where you will be subjected to far worse,” Flynn said while striding up to me.

  “And what exactly am I submitting to?” I demanded.

  “A small sigil that will ensure you tell the truth,” he said.

  I exhaled slowly through my nose.

  “And it will last how long?” I asked.

  He smirked at that. “Thirty minutes.”

  I ground my teeth but held out my hand, palm up. If I kicked too much of a fuss, I’d draw more attention. I already had too much attention fr
om the council.

  Flynn held my hand steady while he carved a rather intricate sigil into the palm of my left hand. It hurt like a bitch, but I refused to let that show. I got the distinct impression he’d enjoy that too much. He whispered something under his breath that made it feel like the blood on my palm had been set on fire. I watched as my blood turned almost black. The sigil looked like a rather macabre tattoo then. Flynn stepped back, apparently satisfied.

  “Try and tell a lie,” he commanded.

  “The floor is made of…” My tongue refused to form the next word.

  I tried to wrap it around the syllables in ‘marble,’ but it wouldn’t budge. I finally spat out, “wood.”

  Flynn and Scythe both smirked at my clear frustration and discomfort.

  “Why were you at Ms. Goldarn’s office?” Flynn demanded.

  “To discuss tattoo magic theory,” I said.

  His eyes narrowed. “What theory, exactly?”

  I ran the question around my mind. I couldn’t lie, but that didn’t mean I had to give every detail.

  “The nature of the magical bonds and the recipient’s connection to the tattoo magic web,” I said.

  I’d simply left out the part about severing those bonds.

  Scythe and Flynn passed a suspicious look between them, but they knew I couldn’t lie.

  “What state was Goldarn in when you left?”

  “Alive and well,” I said without hesitation.

  “And her tiger?” Scythe pushed.

  “Friendly,” I said with a smile.

  “Have you ever tried to steal someone’s tattoo?” Scythe asked.

  I raised an eyebrow.

  “No. The thought has never crossed my mind,” I said.

  “Don’t leave the city. We might have further questions for you at a later date,” Flynn said.

  “Twenty more minutes,” Scythe said with a malicious smile.

  I didn’t like the implications there. I wasn’t a liar by habit or nature. Still, that did leave me particularly vulnerable for twenty minutes. There was nothing to stop Keirn or Isaiah from asking difficult questions.

  The enforcers left, and Keirn flipped the sign on the door to show we were open again. It had been too long since we’d had a client. We weren’t short of money, but it wouldn’t be long before clients would forget about us.

  “How’s that coffee coming?” I asked.

  Isaiah smiled and headed back into the kitchen, to my considerable relief.

  The feral, who had Keirn’s fox at her feet, tilted her head a little and asked, “Why did you help me?”

  I shrugged. “Because Kyra insisted that I should.”

  She pursed her lips. “Why did you offer to feed me here, though?”

  “It felt right,” I said and walked past her into the kitchen.

  “The gods wanted you here,” Keirn said cheerfully.

  “And why’s that?” I asked, glad to be on a safe topic.

  “Because she’s my new apprentice. She has quite the eye for art,” Keirn said with a proud smile.

  I looked between them.

  “I’m missing something…” I said.

  “Your coffee,” Isaiah said as he handed me my coffee.

  He leaned in and kissed my cheek.

  “Are you ok?” he asked.

  I sat back down at the table and wondered how long I had until that damn sigil wore off. I squeezed my eyes shut and wondered if there was a way to work around the truth. I wasn’t one of those liked talking about my feelings. Eventually, I had to say something.

  “I’m surviving.”

  Isaiah ran his fingers through my hair, much as I had done to him. I didn’t know how I felt about being on the receiving end of such affection. I glanced at Keirn, who gave me a genuine smile.

  “So this is your Isaiah?” Keirn asked.

  I glared at him for the use of the word ‘your’. Amusement filled his eyes, but he managed to maintain a small smile and nothing more.

  “Yes, this is Isaiah,” I said.

  “You’re a weaver?” Keirn asked him.

  “Yes. First tier, with all of my certificates,” Isaiah said.

  I felt him puff his small chest out a little. He had every right to be proud.

  “I thought all weavers wore expensive suits,” the feral said.

  Isaiah tensed, his jaw clenched. I took his hand in mine before he could ball it into a fist. I rubbed my thumb along the base of his to soothe him, I wasn’t going to encourage a fight in my kitchen. The day had been long enough as it was.

  “I have made some unfortunate mistakes, but Dacian is helping me fix them,” he said icily.

  The feral nodded and smiled. “Dacian is a good man.”

  “Do you have a name?” I asked the feral.

  I had no intentions of getting back onto the topic of me. Surely that sigil would wear off soon, and I could relax. The feral frowned for a moment.

  “Vyx. My parents didn’t feel the need to give me a name. I was the runt, and I don’t have any magic like my siblings. They told me I was a burden. So I named myself Vyx.”

  It was a rather blunt name, with her being a vixen feral and all, but who was I to argue?

  “She’ll be taking the spare bedroom and apprenticing under me,” Keirn said.

  “Will she, now?” I replied.

  “Yes,” Keirn said firmly.

  His fox was sitting on her feet, looking up at her adoringly. The fox had spoken.

  22

  I didn’t have it in me to remain pissed at Keirn for bringing Vyx into our lives. His spirit fox clearly adored her, so there was something there that I didn’t understand. Of course, it had been Kyra who had started the entire thing, and I’d chosen to invite her to our home. It was a joint effort.

  Isaiah had insisted on staying the night, which was hardly unexpected. He’d done his best to offer me comfort while I came to terms with the death of Ms. Goldarn. His small frame was wrapped around me, his arm across my chest and his legs tangled with mine. His slow breathing betrayed the fact he’d fallen asleep a little while ago. I remained wide awake, trying to relax and let go of the day’s events.

  Kyra pushed the words bad man watches down the bond. I peered into the darkness, trying to pinpoint where she was. She jumped up onto the bed and nuzzled against my hand before she went and checked on Isaiah. She really was the least loyal little creature. Watches where? I pushed back to her.

  Outside. Street. she returned.

  Show me I demanded.

  I untangled myself from Isaiah with some difficulty. By some miracle, he remained asleep during the entire process. I pulled on a pair of boxers. There was no need to risk scaring the vixen by strolling around naked. Kyra marched through the hallway and up onto the roof, her tail high. She jumped up onto the wall surrounding our space on the roof. She mewed and pointed with her paw, gesturing and swiping at the air. I frowned and followed the direction of her swipes. It took me a minute of searching the darkness, but I spotted him. I couldn’t be sure if it was the same man that had followed me earlier in the day, but he was wearing a long dark coat and appeared to have a similar build. He was also watching the entrance to our tattoo parlour. Hunt I pressed to Kyra and released Aris with the same command.

  Kyra was small by house-cat standards, but she could cause a substantial amount of damage if she wanted. Aris would have no problems killing the man if he could catch him unawares. Still, they understood the command to mean hunt for information. I wasn’t a killer, and while my tattoos had killed small game such as rats for food, they weren’t permitted to kill people. I had no doubt that Aris would, given provocation and permission, but I wasn’t ready to give him either.

  Kyra and Aris slipped away into the darkness, leaving me to stand motionless, watching the man, wondering what he wanted and, perhaps more importantly, what he knew.

  The sun was beginning to rise when I returned to bed. My thoughts had been a chaotic mess, jumping between the death of Ms. G
oldarn, what the man could want, and what I was supposed to do about the tattoo thefts. Try as I might, I couldn’t pull it all together. The city was huge, over a hundred thousand people, and who knew how many of those had magical tattoos? The victims hadn’t even been contained to one part of the city. I cursed out the gods and demanded to know why me. Why had I been called in to fix that mess?

  Isaiah had propped himself up on his elbows when I walked in. His pale skin tempted me in the soft grey light of dawn, the covers pooled around his hips.

  “Where were you?” he asked softly.

  I sat down on the edge of the bed and leaned in to brush my lips over his.

  “I couldn’t sleep. I went onto the roof to think,” I said.

  He pulled me down onto the bed with him.

  “Anything I can help with?” he asked.

  “Afraid not,” I said after some thought.

  No good came from pulling him into the fray. He had enough trouble as it was. I grazed my teeth over his bottom lip.

  “What are you doing to try and bring in more work?” I asked.

  He pouted and looked away.

  “I don’t know where to start. My ex-boss did everything,” he said.

  I hooked my finger under his chin and pulled his face to look at me.

  “My father is a weaver, I’ll see if he can help you,” I said.

  “I can do this, Dacian,” he spat.

  “Is it so shameful to have a little help?” I asked.

  He sighed and ran his fingers up and down my ribs.

  “No. I suppose not. What will I owe him?” he asked.

  I narrowed my eyes.

  “Nothing,” I said.

  What would he have given had I have demanded it? His body? More? I pulled him to me ran my fingers up and down the back of his neck.

  “There will be no more men like that. No one will demand your body as payment, do you understand?” I asked.

  He nodded and nuzzled against my chest.

  “Yes,” he whispered.

  He was asleep again within a few heartbeats, and I envied him that.