by Holly Evans
“The alpha is waiting,” he said.
I followed him out to his sleek blue car and had barely put my seatbelt on when he screeched out into the traffic and took off down the road at a hair-raising speed.
“The alpha doesn’t like to be kept waiting,” the shifter said.
There were many good reasons why I rarely drove anywhere: the cost of it, the inconvenience of parking, and the fact that half of the city drove like they had a death wish. I’m not entirely sure how we didn’t get into (or cause) any traffic accidents on the journey to the thief’s house, but I was glad to get out of the car. The house was unimpressive, a stunted grey building with blown bricks along its frontage and a sagging roof. The windows were filthy, with tattered curtains hanging inside. Scraggly plants grew around the perimeter, and a burnt tree stood guard over the entrance to the place. Little did I know that the inside was going to be worse. A good portion of the pack was gathered outside the front door, each of them well-muscled, powerful, and amber-eyed. Jake wasn’t screwing around. He had come expecting a fight.
Jake grinned at me. “Let’s put an end to this, shall we, Dan?”
I smiled back at him and gestured towards the front door. I saw no reason to be on the front line if I didn’t have to be. Let the pack deal with it. They were stronger and faster than me, after all. A twinge of guilt formed as I thought that. We were going against a fellow ink magician. We didn’t know what he could do. As a chaote, his skills could be anything. I should have led the way and prepared for ink magic. Instead, I allowed the pack to lead the way. They weren’t weak.
They apparently didn’t believe in knocking politely, or had already tried that. I followed as the pack surged inside. They split into two groups. One filled the small downstairs area, while I followed the second group that went up the rickety stairs. The entire house shuddered and creaked as the pack searched every nook and cranny. No one had told me exactly what I was supposed to be doing, so I followed along, trying not to get in the way.
The interior of the house was filthy and full of ink. Small droplets formed in the corners, splatters marked the cracked walls and stained the peeling paint. Old, faded paw prints led the way up the stairs and made my stomach clench in anticipation. He had been using ink magic there for a good while. There was too much of it. It was haphazard, uncontrolled.
Jake summoned me to the thief’s bedroom. A small bed had been pushed up into the corner. Dirty bedding was bundled up in the middle, leaving a stained mattress exposed to the air. The walls were covered in sheets of paper. Some were filled with paintings and sketches of everything from people to pixies. It was all black on white, as though something had leached the colour out of the room. Even the light filtering through the window was somehow grey despite the bright sunny day outside. There was ink everywhere. All of it pitch black, most of it dried, but I could feel it.
I couldn’t step over the threshold. It was too much. The air was full of the fizzing, buzzing sensation that came with ink magic. Jake stood in the middle of the room, just to the left of a large ink stain on the bare floor. I swallowed down my revulsion as I tore my eyes away from the stain. Images flickered in my mind of a broken wolf, half-formed and in pain. The chaote had been experimenting, the ink network showing me the shadows of what he’d done. There was so much pain in that room. Broken tattoos suffering from a lack of bond to a person with nothing but a weak tether stopping them from returning to the ink network fully.
“Well?” he demanded.
I crossed my arms. “‘Well’ what?”
There was no reason for the alpha to see weakness in me. I put on a good front.
“Where is he?” Jake demanded.
“Under the bed,” I said sarcastically.
Jake growled at me. I stared him down.
“Can’t you track him through the ink or something?” a strong female voice enquired from somewhere behind me.
Yes. I most likely could, but the risk that accompanied that was too great.
“I’m a tattoo magician. I deal in tattoos,” I said.
Jake picked up a piece of yellowed leather by the very tip of his fingers.
“Then use this,” the alpha said.
I frowned and stepped into the room, forcing myself to ignore the buzzing that crawled over my skin. My stomach turned when I saw the housecat stained on the leather. That could have been Kyra. Jake dropped the skin on the mattress.
“There’s your tattoo,” he said with disgust.
He’d cut someone up for their tattoo. I swallowed down the bile that rose at the thought.
“I need quiet,” I said.
Jake gestured at the shifters behind me.
“Ten minutes, Dan,” he said.
I nodded in understanding. Gone was my friend and sparring partner. He was an alpha protecting his pack.
The pack left me alone in the room, with the door closed. I swallowed down the anxiety that came with being surrounded by so much corrupted ink magic and tried to focus. The clock was ticking. Aris pressed himself against my spine as I approached the tattoo. It was a repulsive thing that I wanted nothing to do with. Still, the killer had to be stopped.
Taking a deep breath, I steadied myself as best as I could and pressed my fingertip to the tattoo. The skin was slightly clammy and cool. The texture was enough to make me almost empty my stomach. I composed myself and focused entirely on the magic, on the ink. The thread to the ink network was almost gone. There was barely anything for me to follow or track. Closing my eyes, I focused and entered my meditative state and asked the ink network to help me. I was dragged into the darkness and pushed down a path that closed in around me. Panic threatened to overwhelm me, but I pushed on. I had no choice.
Two images swirled before me in the gloom. One was a young girl with the tell-tale amber eyes of a shifter or feral. Her features were soft and smooth. She couldn’t have been more than fourteen. The other was a man I recognised, someone I had chatted with on more than one occasion. I tried to grasp onto the image of the man, to trace his whereabouts down the ink network. Something pushed back against me, a cold, hard sensation that pressed against my chest and closed in around my throat. The ink network shattered around me. I was left with only one thing: a small understanding that what he really craved was the ultimate tattoo.
A spirit animal.
49
I opened the door to find Jake looking at me expectantly.
I bit the bullet and said, “I don’t know where he is. But I know what he wants.”
Jake growled but said nothing.
“He wants a spirit animal.”
Everyone stopped fidgeting. A younger pack member seemed to even stop breathing. Spirit animals were rare and sacred, even to those who didn’t have one. They were subject to an unspoken rule that no one touched or harmed them.
“Liam believed he had the thief’s trail. He’s running it down with Christian and Anna,” Jake said.
“Good luck,” I said before I walked down the stairs.
I couldn’t be around that room any more. It was eating at me. I went straight outside and leaned on the closest car while I gulped down air and tried to purge my lungs. The understanding of what he’d done to that poor girl sat in the back of my mind. It would give me nightmares for weeks. She must have been a feral, for no one to have reported such a violent act. I squeezed my eyes closed. That could so easily have been Vyx.
“I’m taking you home,” the wolf who’d brought me there said.
I let my feet take me to the car and struggled to shake off the images and thoughts on the drive back. He could have driven backwards the entire journey, for all the attention I paid. We couldn’t allow the killer to continue. I thanked the wolf for getting me there and back in one piece and pulled myself together, ready to face Keirn and the others. The shock was wearing off. It was time for action.
Keirn was cooking food with a grim determination. I wasn’t sure quite what the food had done to him, but he was poking at
it with a savagery I hoped he never turned on me. Ethan was standing in the living room watching whatever on the TV. Everything was quite normal.
Vyx had returned to her human form, complete with a full set of clothes. Keirn’s fox was curled up by her feet, and Kyra was curled up on her shoulder.
Ethan looked at the three of them with a frown and said, “So are you and Keirn’s fox… together now you have a fox form too?”
Vyx wrinkled her nose. “No. We’re friends.”
Ethan put his hands in his pockets. “So when you told that fox shifter earlier, no physical intimacy…”
“I have no desire to have sex with anyone. I never have, and I don’t believe I ever will. I’m happy as I am,” she said.
Ethan smiled. “Your happiness is what counts, little vixen. How’s the art going?”
I looked down at Vyx and the fox at her feet. We couldn’t allow anything to happen to them. There had to be another way to catch the thief. I would dive deeper into the ink network after dinner.
Our quiet dinner was interrupted by a banging on the front door to the parlour.
We all looked to Ethan, who held his hands up. “Don’t look at me.”
He had a thirst for life that had resulted in a number of frustrated lovers and other such people banging on the door. I stood and went to open the door, with Keirn close behind me and Aris in the shadows ready to defend the parlour as needed. A trio of councilmen in their slick suits stood glaring at us.
“We have some questions for you,” Enforcer Scythe said.
“Hurry up and ask them, my wine’s getting warm,” Keirn snapped.
The blade magician gave Keirn a sadistic smile. “That dragon you helped Mr. Corbeaux bring through has been causing some problems.”
“And?” Keirn and I both said reflexively.
“It seems it is a very strong dragon.”
Keirn and I sighed. Aris pushed I bite? down the bond.
Soon. Maybe. I pushed back.
“We’ve already been over this dragon nonsense, I’ve been regraded and subjected to your blood magic. This is harassment,” I said.
“We find it interesting that the timing of your being able to pull through that dragon closely coincides with the first tattoo theft,” one of the other councilman said.
“I fail to see the link,” I said.
“A strong magician, an ink magician, is responsible for those tattoo thefts.”
The words hung in the air between us.
“You don’t seriously believe a bunch of drunk nymphs do you?” Ethan said from behind me.
Enforcer Scythe sniffed. “We understand that you’ve taken quite the interest in ink magic, Mr. Corbeaux.”
“I’m a tattoo magician, it’s my craft,” I said.
The second councilman, the dark-haired one who was half-shrouded in shadow, smirked.
“The council would be very interested in hiring an ink magician,” he said.
“If I bump into one I’ll let you know you offer a fantastic pay package,” I said.
“Your hand, Mr. Corbeaux,” Enforcer Scythe said.
“What crime are you accusing me of?” I demanded.
The councilman shifted his weight and said nothing.
“You have no right to use blood magic on me without appropriate evidence and suspicion of a crime. Now fuck off, and take your watcher with you.” I gestured at my stalker who was watching the proceedings from across the street.
Mr. Scythe smiled. It sent a shiver down my spine.
“He isn’t one of ours.”
With that, he turned and left.
I slammed the door and locked it, trying to ignore the way my heart was hammering in my chest.
50
Keirn had muttered under his breath about the council being worthless assholes with nothing better to do. Ethan gave me a hard look. I ground my teeth and ignored him. It wasn’t his decision to make.
“I really don’t like them,” Vyx said when we returned to the kitchen. “They buy ferals and other unwanted beings from the markets and take them away sometimes,” she added.
We all turned to look at her.
“The council buys ferals?” Ethan asked.
“Yes. The council, the dealers, the rich, people from all walks of life exchange goods for people in the markets,” she said.
Kyra jumped into my lap and up onto my shoulder. She rubbed her cheek against mine and tried to soothe me. The council was getting too close, but I couldn’t sit back and allow the thief to run rampant. A knocking came from the back door before I’d had a chance to formulate a plan. Ethan opened the door. I leaned back in my chair and saw Caiden and Isa standing in the darkness waiting to be let in. I frowned. I hadn’t expected to see Isa that evening, and he sparred with Caiden in the mornings, not the evenings.
Ethan stepped aside and invited them in. “I hope you don’t mind the intrusion, Dacian, Keirn, but I had to borrow Isa,” Caiden said.
I stood and wrapped my arm around Isa’s waist without thinking. Isa brushed his lips over my jawline.
“It’s nothing bad. He asked me to try and form a construct to track the tattoo thief with the ink works the pack found in the house,” Isa said.
I ran my fingers through Isa’s hair. “And could you?”
He gave me a weak smile. “Yes and no. The construct led us to the corvid towers, but it shattered the moment we got within three blocks of the thief. I don’t know what he’s using, but the magic-breaking ability is unlike anything I’ve encountered before,” Isa said.
“He toyed with us,” Caiden growled.
“Ethan, how could he possibly do that? Surely you know someone who made something of that level,” I said.
Ethan shook his head. “Breakers don’t work that closely together, we keep to ourselves and compete pretty heavily. I tried talking to people, but no one was willing to tell me anything.”
“There has to be someone with a reputation, someone who specialises in that work,” I said.
“You think someone has a reputation for working with sadistic fucks?” Ethan snapped.
I took a calming breath.
“No. I think someone might have a reputation for making high-end magic breaking artifacts,” I said calmly.
“I’ve done everything I can. Can you honestly say the same?” he said.
Everyone was looking at me, trying to figure out what Ethan was getting at.
“Yes. I can,” I said.
The breaker stormed out and slammed the door behind him.
“What was that all about?” Isa asked.
“The council was here earlier. They were pushing the ink magician thing again,” Keirn said.
Once again all eyes turned to me.
“I must have pissed someone off somewhere,” I said with a shrug.
Isa ran his fingers along my jawline and looked into my eyes.
“You’re deathly pale. Jake said the thief’s house really threw you,” he said softly.
“I need a quiet night to recover and think,” I said with a smile.
Isa leaned into me, moulding his body to mine. “I’ll stay here tonight, then.”
I laughed. “Oh will you, now?”
He grinned. “You need me.”
He didn’t know how right he was in that.
Caiden had stayed for an hour talking to Isa and Keirn about the council and the thief while I remained on the rooftop trying to connect more deeply to the ink network. I couldn’t do it. I was exhausted. Every time I tried to reach out to the network, I came crashing back down to earth, each time harder than the last. I was curled up against the wall with the damp air chilling my bare skin when Isa came and found me.
He curled up in my lap, his head on my shoulder. I wrapped my arms around him and took comfort in his presence.
“Everyone’s counting on me to catch this killer,” I said.
“You’re not doing this alone,” he said gently.
I stroked his hair and kissed his fore
head. “Come to bed. I need sleep.”
He brushed his lips over mine. “I don’t start work until nine tomorrow.”
I took his bottom lip between my teeth and bit down softly. “Good. I hate when you leave at dawn.”
“You can trust me, Dacian,” he whispered.
I couldn’t, though, for his sake. What if the council sank their claws into him because of me?
I smiled and kissed him. “I know.”
51
I knew Ben was in my dreams when I found myself standing in the middle of a bluegrass meadow surrounded by short stout trees covered in pink and lilac blossoms.
“Ben! Show yourself!” I shouted.
I hated when the dreamwalker invaded my dreams like that. It was an incredible invasion of privacy, and likely illegal for exactly that reason, not that Ben gave much of a damn about the laws in the conscious world.
Ben strolled through the grass with a lurid pink and yellow tunic on over sea-green trousers. I honestly wondered if he saw colours differently than the rest of the world.
“Dacian, I’ve made a breakthrough!” Ben said with a grin.
“You could have rung and told me like a normal person.”
He shook his head. “Why would I use a phone when I could show you?”
The landscape around us suddenly shifted, everything became dark and grey.
“I found him,” Ben whispered.
“The thief?”
“Yes, the thief, Dacian, keep up. I knew there had to be an adjoining thread between the shards somewhere. He was very careful in how he hid it, but I found it.”