Ink Bound (Ink Born Book 3)

by Holly Evans

  Shadow returned with a mug of something steaming that made Luka relax. He gently pulled Shadow down into his lap.

  “We haven’t found out who sent the dreamwalkers, or who they are. It seems there’s a bigger push-back against Fein’s move than we anticipated. The underground has fractured, which is making our lives more difficult. This was supposed to be a quiet, surgical move, and yet everyone and their great aunt knows something is going on,” Luka said.

  “Meaning that we have someone with a big mouth who isn’t as loyal to Fein as they should be,” Shadow growled.

  “When did the change happen? When did the increase in missing people happen?” Keirn asked.

  “About two weeks ago; we can’t be entirely sure, as it’s not exactly broadcast,” Shadow said.

  “Spring is a volatile time. Those in power could be trying to gather more money to back their political aspirations. Or there could be someone new in the city, someone who doesn’t give a fuck about the balance that had been established,” Keirn mused.

  “No, there’s no one new,” Luka said.

  “We’ll deal with it tomorrow. It’s been a long day. I’m happy for you two. You’re glowing, it’s about time you were happy. Truly happy.” Shadow said before he nuzzled Luka’s neck and relaxed.

  “I don’t like it,” Keirn said softly, apparently ignoring the happier half of Shadow’s words.

  I kissed his temple.

  “Neither do I, but I don’t see what we can do,” I said.

  “Be careful in that tattooist club. They make sea serpents look gentle,” Keirn said.

  “I’ll do my best, Snowy,” I said.

  Keirn laughed and bit my ear gently.

  “Don’t push your luck,” he said with a smile.

  “Seriously? You’re going with ‘Snowy’ as his pet name?” Luka asked.

  I grinned at him and stroked Keirn’s hair.

  “It’s suits him, don’t you think?”

  The mortified expressions on the cougars’ faces suggested that they didn’t agree.

  10

  The next two weeks passed without noteworthy incidents. Keirn moved into my room, more or less. We didn’t get as far as rearranging our wardrobes and such, but he slept in my arms each night. It felt as though the world was right, as it should be. Well, with regards to my love life and bed, at least. The rest of my life could have done with some work.

  I’d barely seen Caiden since he’d told me to make myself known in the tattooists’ club, and the cougars were becoming increasingly quiet and withdrawn as they dealt with problems in the criminal world. Vyx, however, was rather happy, and Keirn was making good progress on his art.

  He was away speaking to a potential buyer while I set about making myself lunch before I headed over to the tattooists’ club. I didn’t enjoy my time spent there, the people were insufferable, but they were beginning to trust me, and Fein would likely have my head, or worse, if I didn’t keep trying.

  Tyn had apparently been kept out of the worst of whatever the cougars were dealing with, as he’d been hanging out with Vyx a good bit. It was to the point where the Cait Sidhe was beginning to relax around us a little. Vyx apparently took that as a bad sign. Tyn knocked on the door to the art room, which brought Vyx out to meet him. He backed away some as Vyx emerged and crossed her arms while frowning and looking up at a very confused Tyn.

  I choked on my sandwich when she said, “I want to make something clear. You cannot under any circumstances develop a crush on me.” She sighed heavily, and continued, “I have never had sex, I will never have sex, nor do I have even the vaguest of interests in anything romantic. With anyone. Don’t get it into your head that you’ll be the exception, because you won’t. And while we’re on it, I don’t like being touched, either.”

  Tyn blinked and canted his head ever so slowly to one side before he smiled. His smile spread wider before he began laughing, a genuine bubbling laugh.

  “I have no interest in sex, Vyx, and I’d much rather not have anyone touch me. So now that we have that all cleared up, are you ready to go and get some coffee?” he said with a smile plastered on his face.

  Vyx relaxed and grabbed her purse off the back of her armchair.

  “Be good, Dacian, I don’t want to have to rescue you today,” she said brightly.

  I laughed. “I’ll do my best, little vixen.”

  I wasn’t entirely sure how serious she was, but it was good to see her so happy. Gone was the nervy little feral I’d first met on the street. She was a force to be reckoned with, and I was proud to call her my friend.

  Bored. Kyra pushed.

  She sat on the windowsill, looking out over the city.

  “Don’t you dare cause trouble, cat,” I said.

  She looked at me with her biggest most innocent kitten eyes.

  “No,” I said.

  Never go anywhere.

  “There’s no reason for you to go anywhere.”

  Hunt

  “You eat perfectly fine.”

  Bored

  In truth, I’d been keeping her indoors because I worried someone might try and target her. The cougars had been increasingly uptight and stressed by what was going on in the criminal world. I didn’t know exactly who knew I was working for Fein, or how far they’d go to hurt his people. Maybe I was being paranoid, but I couldn’t lose the little wretch.

  I threw a ball of wool at her.

  “Play with that.”

  She poked at it with her paw, causing it to roll away from her. The intensity of her gaze increased before she stretched forward and poked it again. I left her to it and headed over to the tattooists’ club. I’d rather play with Kyra, but there weren’t any tattooing clients, and I was bored of studying sigils, so the club was my only real option.

  Spring was out in full force. The trees were bursting with mewing, chirping creatures. A puka peered out of a bush on the edge of the small park on the way to the club. Her angular features were intently focused on the barely clad young nymph that was desperately trying to get the attention of the cat shifter laying out on the bench near her tree. The nymph shimmied and gyrated, but the cat shifter remained languidly stretched out, eyes half closed, enjoying the sun. A small puka kit, a long-legged black cat with large tufts of fur at the tips of its ears, shot out across the cracked tarmac towards the nymph. Its mother yowled, a strange sound coming from her human form. The kit froze mid-step under the bench, and the nymph froze with it. Horror slowly spread across the nymph’s delicate features as she realised that the puka and her kits intended on having her for dinner.

  The nymph vanished in the blink of an eye, likely back into her tree, leaving the adult puka to scold her young kit for trying to rush things. An older magician, a life magician if the green pins in her hair were anything to go by, watched everything in rapt fascination. She scribbled notes down in her notebook that sat in her lap as I wandered back and continued on my way to the club. The city was a dangerous place, a large ecosystem full of life, death, and everything in between.

  11

  The feral barman began pouring the pint of red ale as I approached him. Scott was in his usual spot by the bar. Elona was having a frantic hushed conversation with an older blonde woman. The tattooists had tried to push me into drinking the stronger, alchemically enhanced drinks for the first week I had been spending time at the club, but they’d accepted it was a fight they weren’t going to win and left me to my ale. I gave Scott a friendly smile that I didn’t feel. The man was a brute wrapped in expensive cloth.

  “Dacian, I was hoping we’d see you today. We have something of a surprise for you,” Scott said, his eyes cold and hard as he watched me.

  I took my seat on the bar stool and gave him a big smile. “Is that so?”

  Elona brought the blonde woman with her and joined Scott as the barman handed me my ale.

  “We wanted to give you a little something, to welcome you to the club proper,” Elona said.

  “We though
t it would be helpful to you, as you’re clearly in need of a little extra… assistance,” Scott said, his hand gesturing at my jeans and shirt.

  I did own smarter pants, I just didn’t like wearing them and so continued to wear my jeans.

  “Alice, bring it out, I want to see his reaction,” Elona said to a small feral who kept her eyes firmly down towards the floor.

  The feral nodded and hurriedly went into the room behind the bar.

  I was expecting an extortionately priced tattoo gun, perhaps a set of inks, something that would help me with tattooing. By the gods, I missed tattooing. Fein hadn’t passed me a new client in weeks.

  The small feral returned with a tall, underfed, and particularly wild-looking male wolf feral. His hair was black with russet tips that caught the light. His eyes were hard amber, and his canines protruded over his bottom lip in a permanent warning.

  The tattoo magicians watched me intently as I watched the ferals approach me.

  “What do you think?” Scott asked.

  “We thought you’d enjoy a challenge,” Elona added.

  My mind had stopped. All thoughts had ceased to form. They’d gotten me a feral? Not just any feral, a wild, underfed feral. One who looked ready to try and tear me in half for so much as considering going near him.

  “You’re giving me a feral?” I asked.

  Elona grinned.

  “Yes, darling. We thought you could do with an extra set of hands. He’s rather wild, but I’m sure it’ll be fun breaking him in. I much prefer getting them fresh from the market, it allows me to train them my way. It can be such a nuisance un-training someone else’s rules. They can be stubborn beasts,” Elona said.

  Was I supposed to thank them? They’d just given me a fucking slave. Fuck.

  “Bring it here, we need to brand it and make it official,” Scott said, gesturing to the two ferals.

  I bit my tongue and stopped myself from pointing out the feral wasn’t an it.

  The small skittish feral tugged on the wolf’s hand. The wolf rooted himself and snarled at us. I wanted to tell him to get out, to return to his pack. I could take the tattoo magicians on in a fight. They were all soft, delicate people. Of course, I couldn’t. I was there on a job, I was there to get into the criminal underground and put an end to these practices.

  “Attis! Come and put this feral in his place, we need to brand him,” Scott barked.

  A large bear shifter lumbered over. He’d been sitting in one of the booths in front of the open fire. The shifter grabbed the feral by the back of the neck and hauled him over to the bar, where he continued to snarl at us. I couldn’t look at him.

  “He has such spirit. I’m envious of you, Dacian,” the blonde woman said.

  I clenched my fists and said nothing.

  Scott pulled out a small tattooing gun and loaded it with sky-blue ink. The shifter pinned the feral down to the bar, one hand on the side of his head, the other on his shoulder. Scott slipped his hand between the shifter’s arms and pressed the needle to the feral’s skin, just behind his ear. I hadn’t been around many other tattoo magicians when they worked. There had been a few times in college, but no major workings. Each tattoo magician’s magic feels different. Keirn’s is smooth and icy. Scott’s was ragged and edged with barbs. I felt as though rose thorns were clawing at my fingers and the palms of my hands as he marked the feral with my brand.

  The ink network would have guided him, it would have shown him what mark it felt represented me. Scott wove that into a complex sigil that would stop the feral from being able to run away or harm me. Rage burned deep within me. The tattoo magicians all watched with glee on their faces. Elona licked her lips as she watched the fury on the feral’s face slowly slip into resignation. I reminded myself that these people would all pay. Fein would make sure that these practises were stopped. I clung onto that thought as I calmed myself and unclenched my hands.

  The feral was released, and the shifter returned to his warm spot without a word said. Scott grinned at me.

  “Now to finish it,” he said as he held the tattoo gun out to me.

  My brand wasn’t complete until I bore it myself. I could still knock Scott out and set the feral free. The ink network curled around the edge of my mind, pushed me on. Of course it didn’t have a problem with this act, this barbaric act. The damn thing had a morality all of its own.

  I held out my wrist, with the underside up, ready for my own brand. Scott’s magic bit into my skin as he worked with sharp, jerking motions. I was left with a small three-pronged symbol formed of curving lines with a single straight line slicing through the centre. The feral looked at me and bared his teeth.

  He was mine now, and I hated myself for it.

  12

  Rather than remain at the club for the tattoo magicians to watch and cajole, I downed my ale in one long drink and headed for home. The feral followed behind me reluctantly. There were moments when he strayed too far, which led to a tugging sensation on my wrist and a whimper from him. I couldn’t say anything in public, not that I knew what to say, really. A few people paused and looked between us as the feral snarled at them, daring them to come closer. I ignored all of them and tried to figure out how I was going to get out of this situation. The problem came from his finding out that I was an ink magician. Maybe if Fein knew a memory merchant, I could release him, and the merchant would erase the relevant memories. That would be expensive, and morally dubious. He’d be left with a black hole in his memory, and likely be abandoned in a life he knew nothing of.

  I cursed the gods, and quickly added Fein to my tirade. The roads were raging torrents due to the sudden downpour of water by the time I got home. My clothes were icy cold and clung to every inch of me. The gods had clearly returned to their old ways, the assholes.

  The feral’s clothes were thin and cheap, and they’d offered him no protection from the sudden rain. Guilt curled within my stomach. I’d done that to him. His dark hair hung limply in front of his eyes. He shoved his hands down into the pockets of his hole-riddled jeans and refused to look at me. The points of his ears were pressed back and his canines were barely covered. Still he hunched his shoulders and turned away from me, showing submission despite his fury.

  “I’m not going to hurt you,” I said.

  I got growls in response.

  The elevator opened on our floor and I stepped out, toeing off my boots and looking to get an idea of who was home. The brand on my wrist tugged as I stepped into the living area. I glanced back to see the feral rooted to the spot just outside of the elevator.

  “You can’t stay there, you’ll freeze. Come inside, I’ll find you some food and a towel so you can have a hot shower,” I said.

  He raised his eyes and glared at me, his ears swiveled forward, listening intently. Slowly, his shoulders went back and he stood tall. I remained where I was and waited. Pushing him wasn’t going to get me very far.

  “Dacian, why do you smell of wet-” Luka stopped dead next to me as he spotted the feral.

  “Dacian, why is there a strange feral dripping in our hallway?” he asked slowly.

  I showed him my wrist.

  “What the fuck is wrong with you!?” Luka snarled.

  The feral tilted his head slightly as he watched the exchange.

  “I didn’t have much of a choice,” I said.

  Vyx chose that moment to come and see what was going on.

  “Dacian… is that feral bound to you?” Vyx asked.

  Keirn and Shadow joined the fray. Everyone looked between me and the wretched feral with looks of horror and anger. Kyra came over to investigate. The feral remained stock still, hard eyed and ready for combat while I tried to figure out how to explain things.

  “The tattooists gave him to me as a welcome-to-the-club gift. I couldn’t turn him down without raising suspicions. I am supposed to be getting close to them, if you recall,” I said to the cougars.

  Kyra stalked over to the feral, or tried to. I scooped her u
p before she could get too close. Who knew what he’d do to her. His mouth pulled into a smirk as he watched me and Kyra.

  “Is there a way I can set him free?” I asked the cougars.

  “No. He’ll have no one. He needs you now,” Vyx said.

  I cursed the gods again.

  “I just want to be clear, here. I do not agree with the idea of slaves, and I sure as fuck did not ask to be given this feral,” I said.

  The cougars relaxed, and Keirn came up to me.

  “We believe you,” Keirn said softly.

  “Would you come inside so we can give you some food and a hot shower?” I asked the feral.

  Vyx walked around me and approached the feral with her shoulders back and her steps slow and purposeful. She stopped just out of arms reach.

  “These are good people. They took me in off the street and helped give me a life. Give them a chance,” she told him firmly.

  The feral bared his teeth at her. Her back tensed and her ears flattened. The wolf had a good few inches on her, and even in his malnourished state he was broader than Vyx. That didn’t stop our little vixen from staring him down until he covered his teeth and looked down, showing submission. He stepped forward, and everyone relaxed. We were making progress.

  13

  Vyx shepherded the feral to the dining table. Kyra squirmed and demanded to be let down. I pushed her back into her tattoo to be safe. She howled in the back of my mind at the top of her lungs. The cougars sat first, in their usual seats directly across from the kitchen area. Keirn took the seat at the head of the table closest to the living area. Vyx directed the feral to the seat next to me. The poor bastard was starting to shiver. I wasn’t far behind him. I wanted nothing more than a scalding hot shower and some fresh, dry clothes. He was smaller than me. My clothes wouldn’t fit. I glanced at Keirn. Once the feral had some muscle on him, he’d be bigger than Keirn, but I hoped he had something spare for that day at least.