Angel's Ink (20 page)

“Marry me, Gage,” she murmured against my lips as she trailed her mouth against my cheek, seeking my neck.

Dropping my head back so that she had better access to my throat, I gave a low growl as I fought to think clearly with the right head. Marrying Trixie right now was not going to save her. I couldn’t save her when my own life was hanging tenuously by a thin strand. Simon. Gideon. Death. They all swirled around me, waiting for their chance to chop off my head. Being with Trixie brought her within their sights as well. The king of the Summer Court wanted a lifetime of imprisonment, while the others could bring an end to her life. Loving something meant being willing to walk away from it. And I loved her.

“I can’t,” I said, grabbing her firmly by her upper arms. With every ounce of strength that I could muster, I pushed her a couple of steps away from me so that she could no longer reach me with her lips. “This isn’t a good reason for getting married.”

She arched one eyebrow at me. “Mutual attraction isn’t a good reason?”

“That’s the start of a reason, but I was referring to using it as a way of escaping your problems.”

“It doesn’t have to be the only reason we marry.”

“Trixie . . .”

Trixie’s full lips tilted into a teasing half smile that eased some of the tension from my frame. “I know, but a girl’s got to try, and you’re a catch.”

“Thanks, but I’m more trouble than I’m worth, if you’ll remember. Rogue warlock and all that.” Because I simply couldn’t resist the urge any longer, I pulled her back against me, wrapping my arms tightly around her. After everything that had happened, I needed her close, needed the feel of her pressed against me. Just for a couple of seconds and then I would find a way to keep moving. “I’ll be lucky if I don’t have the guardians breathing down my neck for the rest of my life. Right now, my life span is looking very limited, but I’m going to do what I can to help you until we can come up with a better solution than running, okay? Will you give me a little time?”

Trixie shook her head, stepping out of my grasp. “Gage, I don’t want to risk your life or Bronx’s any more than I already have. It would be best if I get moving now while they’re trying to regroup.”

“You’re worth the risk, and I’m sure that Bronx would agree with me, so you stay. No more arguments. I’m just talking about a few more days. I need time to clear up some ugly matters and then I can turn my full attention to your problem, I promise.”

Trixie stared at me in silence for several seconds, chewing on her lower lip as if she was wavering in indecision.

Reaching out, I grabbed her arm, rubbing my thumb over the soft flesh in a reassuring caress. “You’ve been running for so long, and this isn’t such a bad life, right? Don’t you owe it to yourself to take this chance at being happy in one place? At least for a little while longer?”

Trixie reached up and trailed her fingers across my forehead, easing some of the ache with her gentle touch. “You drive a hard bargain. I’ll stay as long as I can, but if people start getting hurt, then I am out of here.”

“I understand.” I nodded, giving her arm a little squeeze. “Now, get back upstairs and get to work. This is still a business and we’ve got to make some kind of money today.”

Trixie chuckled as she shook her head. At the same time, she waved her hand, putting her glamour spell back in place before she ascended the stairs. “You’re such a slave driver.”

“You better believe it. I’ve got to come up with the money to replace that damn glass case,” I groused as the pains of being slammed through that piece of furniture suddenly came throbbing back. Trixie had managed to make me forget that my spine was killing me and that I was covered in a hundred little cuts along with having a nagging headache. Yeah, I was in great shape. I just hoped that Gideon didn’t pick tonight to show up, because I really wasn’t in any kind of shape to defend myself against an attack. Hell, without Bronx, the elves might actually have gotten the better of me. I wasn’t accustomed to fighting something that moved so fast. My experience was with other witches and warlocks, who were quite dangerous but at least moved at somewhat human speeds. With all the problems I was having, I was beginning to wonder if it was time for me to crack a book and look over some of my old spell notes. Sheer bravado and reckless risk taking weren’t going to carry me much further.

Chapter 17

W
ith a choke and a stutter, life in the shop returned to normal. I trudged back up the stairs right behind Trixie and held her back from entering the main tattooing room until Bronx finished up the client she had been working on. Her sudden appearance would shatter the spell I had embedded in his brain, and I preferred that he go about his business believing that a woman named Trixie didn’t work at Asylum. While we waited, I closed the door to the basement but didn’t replace the wards out of fear that Trixie might need to use it as a sudden hiding place should the elves make a second appearance that night.

Once the man was bandaged up, the tattoo paid for, and he was out of the door, Trixie and I joined Bronx. The troll didn’t say anything but gave her a little pat on the shoulder before slumping in his chair. He didn’t need to ask any questions. He knew that the Royal Guard of the Summer Court was chasing Trixie for some reason. That was enough for him to defend his friend and coworker.

Trixie flashed him a weak smile as she stood in front of her workstation and started to pull out the greasepaint for Bronx’s nightly pseudotattoo. “Thanks for covering that client for me.”

“You owe me. He was a real squirmer. Couldn’t keep his butt still in the chair,” the troll complained.

Trixie and I gave a little laugh at the image of the small man squirming under the attentions of the large troll as he tried to work the tiny needle along the man’s arm. “I can’t imagine it had anything to do with the scary tattoo artist doing the work,” I teased.

“Bronx! Did you growl at the client?” Trixie added.

“Not at first,” he admitted, getting us all laughing.

Trixie came from behind her own tattooing chair and wrapped her arms around the troll’s neck, pressing a kiss on his cheek. “You’re just a big teddy bear in disguise and no one realizes it.”

“Don’t give my secret away,” he said gruffly, but at the same time pointed to his other cheek for a kiss. Trixie laughingly obliged while giving him a hug.

Trixie wasn’t far from the truth. Bronx was quiet and thoughtful. He was reflective and very purposeful in his decisions and his actions. It sometimes made him a slow tattoo artist because he was something of a perfectionist. Despite his frightening appearance, there was nothing brutal or scary about the troll. Unless someone attacked one of his friends, and then you could find yourself eating the muzzle of a sawed-off shotgun in a matter of seconds. I’d had to replace the front plate-glass window of the shop three times because of clients who’d become too aggressive with Trixie. I never said a word. Just picked up the phone and dialed the number to the glass shop. He had only done what I wished I could have.

Still chuckling at the silliness, I picked up the broom and dustpan while dragging one of the garbage cans behind me. I started with the task of cleaning up the broken glass. From the impact, the glass had scattered everywhere, forcing me to also drag out the vacuum cleaner to properly get it off the carpet as well. Clients came in as I cleaned, taking one look at me and another at the glass case, muttering comments under their breath before they were met by Trixie or Bronx.

As midnight approached, I neared the completion of my cleaning. I paused, locking the front door. I could hear the buzzing of two tattooing machines, as both Trixie and Bronx were in the middle of designs. I flipped back the edge of the carpet nearest the glass case and got down on hands and knees with the broom. I carefully cleaned the bits of glass out of the pentagram that had been inscribed in the wood floor. I didn’t think the glass would interfere with the spell, but I didn’t need to take chances right now when I had so many problems building. I certainly couldn’t afford any surprises.

With the carpet back in place, I unlocked the front door. Putting the broom and dustpan back where they belonged, I carried the glass-filled trash can out to the Dumpster and replaced the garbage bag while Trixie and Bronx finished up their work. Other than the broken glass case in the front lobby, the place looked normal again. I picked up the phone, but caught myself. It was after midnight. I would have to wait until I opened the shop on Tuesday to call the glass company for a replacement. I was so used to working late hours that I half-expected the rest of the world to work the same hours. The nice part was that with so many nocturnal creatures in the world, there were a lot of businesses that did keep late hours. Unfortunately, Johnston & Johnston Glassworks was a human-run company as far as I was aware, which meant that they closed around six in the evening. To make matters worse, tomorrow was Sunday, and Asylum was closed on Sunday and Monday. While the case would have to wait, the timing was perfect for fixing Tera’s tattoo, if I ever figured out how.

Shoving both my hands in my pockets, I watched as my companions cleaned up their stations after finishing with their respective clients. The tattoos must have been relatively simple, because each had taken just over an hour to complete, from setting the outline to bandaging the site. I could only guess that both clients had also come in with their own designs, since I didn’t hear either go into the back room to complete a sketch or stir a potion. All in all, easy jobs.

Unfortunately, I was starting to drag. I was usually out of the shop by now, but I knew that Trixie worked until a few hours later. If I left the shop, it meant that Trixie would have to retreat to the apartment upstairs because I would have to set all the protective spells before I left. Considering that it had been a slow, rotten day, I was trying to last as long as possible to give her a chance to make a little cash, but I didn’t know how much longer I was going to last without some coffee or an energy drink. I also had this lingering feeling that I was waiting for something, but I couldn’t for the life of me remember what it was.

The bell attached to the front door rang as a new customer pushed it open. Lethargically, I leaned around the doorjamb on my shoulder to see how many people had wandered into the shop. If it was enough, I might squeeze in one more job myself and then call it a night. I might have been busy all day, but I hadn’t done shit when it came to tattooing. Still, I was exhausted.

To my surprise, Tera bounced into the shop with a smile bright enough to light the night. It was then that it finally dawned on me why I had been waiting around in the shop so late. I had called her earlier in the day and been hoping that she might finally call me back.

“Gage!” she exclaimed as she rushed across the lobby of the tattoo parlor.

“Hey, Tera,” I said, pushing away from the archway to enter the lobby. She paused at what was left of the glass case, her mouth falling open at the few large pieces of jagged glass that I couldn’t pull free, leaving it looking like a hungry mouth standing ready to devour the foolish. “Don’t worry about it,” I said with an absent wave of my hand as I walked around it. “It was just an angry customer. I’m glad you stopped by.”

My words seemed to finally rip her attention free from the broken case, placing her wide eyes back on me. She rushed toward me and wrapped her arms around my neck in a fierce hug, nearly strangling me.

“Oh my god, Gage!” she gasped, tightening her grip on me as if I meant to escape her. “I can’t even begin to thank you.”

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about,” I replied in a choked voice, resisting the urge to try to pry her arms from around my neck. Sure, I was lying through my teeth, but I had to play this one cool if I was going to have another shot at her back. I couldn’t come right out and tell her she was immortal, that the grim reaper was demanding her soul, and that I just wasn’t chivalrous enough to give him mine instead of hers.

She laughed, loosening her steely grip a little to hold me at arm’s length. “You’re kidding, right?”

“I just called you earlier today to make sure that you weren’t having any problems with the tattoo. Most people who get their entire back covered have a little trouble getting it clean the first time—”

“No!” she cried. She fully released me and spun around in place hugging herself, this time to my relief. “The tattoo is wonderful! It’s absolutely perfect!”

Guilt ate at me like acid through tender stomach tissue. I knew what she was going to say. I knew why she was so blissfully excited without having to ask her, but I had to. I had a role to play in this farce, maybe as a bit of penance for the mess I’d made.

“I’m so glad you like it,” I said, hating myself a little more with each word uttered. “I just did what you requested.”

“I know you did more! You had to have done more.”

“I don’t—”

“The cancer is gone!” she exclaimed. Her words seemed to be accompanied by an unearthly silence as one song on the MP3 player ended at the same time and the chatter in the next room went completely dead. It was as if those four words echoed through the void, shattering all my hopes of keeping secrets from my companions and the rest of the world.

“Really? That’s wonderful!” I forced the words up my throat like fat chunks of sludge. I was happy for her, but it burned that I was going to be the one to steal all of that away.

“I went to the doctor this morning for a checkup and another round of tests. The doctor said that it’s all gone. All of the cancer is gone. In fact, I’m completely healthy in every way.” She closed the distance between us a second time and hugged me, a little more gently this time. “You’ve saved my life,” she whispered in a tear-choked tone of voice.

Now I had to find a way to take it away from her again to save my own life. I thought I was going to be sick.

Carefully, I grabbed her upper arms and pushed her from me so that she could look me in the eye. “I didn’t do anything, I swear. It’s just a tattoo of angel wings on your back in black ink. I don’t know what caused your cancer to disappear, but it wasn’t me.”