Children Shouldn't Play with Dead Things (Dead Things Series Book 1) (39 page)

68

EMBER

E
mber wasn’t sure exactly what she’d been expecting from a magical tattoo parlor but it certainly wasn’t the brightly lit storefront with black and white checkerboard floors and lime green paint. Flash art hung in flip boards on the wall and elaborately drawn artwork hung lit from above. There were two artists currently working on clients, bent over, faces masks of concentration. It didn’t look magical to her.

“Can I help you?” a voice asked from her left.

Ember looked over to see black converse and a pair of long legs in black jeans disappearing behind a display case. She looked at Tristin in confusion before edging closer. Behind the counter, an Asian boy around their age stood on his head, using the wall for support, eyes closed. His shirt was rucked up under his arms, the victim of gravity, revealing a series of intricate tattoos.

“We have an appointment,” Ember said, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

The boy let his feet hit the ground and hopped, hazel eyes bright as he swayed. He ran his hand through black hair and smiled. “Great, who are you seeing?”

“Rune,” Tristin said.

The boys smile faltered. “Sure. He’s finishing up with another client.”

Tristin stalked over to the chairs lining the front window and yanked out her cell phone, thumbs flying. Ember hovered near the counter, not sure what to do with herself. The car ride over was filled with awkward silence. She wasn’t eager to return to it.

“First magical tattoo?” the boy asked.

“First any kind of tattoo.”

“Nervous?”

“Is it that obvious?”

He shrugged. “A little. It will be okay. Wait, want to see something cool?”

Ember nodded, “Sure.”

The boy pulled up his sleeve revealing a serpent tattoo around his bicep. Ember leaned in to look at the detail, “Wow.” He waved his hand and the snake appeared to move, slithering across his skin and down his arm. The mouth opened and it hissed. Ember jumped back, eyes wide, laughing.

“How’d you do that?”

“He’s a wizard,” Tristin told her without looking up from her phone.

“Like a male witch?”

“No, male witches are called male witches. He’s a wizard.”

Ember blushed, “Sorry, I don’t know the difference.”

“A witch works with elements under the blessing of their deity. A wizard manipulates magical energies and bends the laws of science. Think alchemy versus holistic magic,” he tried to explain.

“There is just so much I don’t know,” she groaned. Tristin snorted and reached for a magazine, pointedly pretending to ignore them. Ember gave her a long look. She’d briefly thought that their cold war had ended when she’d volunteered to bring her here, but no. She turned her attention back to the cute boy with the pretty eyes.

He grinned at her. “You must be new around here.”

His teeth were perfect, she thought. “Very.”

He held out his hand, “I’m Aaron Yi.”

She took his hand, “Ember.”

His eyebrows shot up, “Lonergan?”

“Yes?”

“So you are what all the fuss is about,” he told her, scrutinizing her. “Yeah, I get it.”

“Shut up,” Ember laughed. Tristin looked up and sighed, flipping the pages of her magazine loudly. “Does it hurt?” she asked, nodding her head towards the artists.

“Depends on placement. Some spots hurt more than others.”

“Does it hurt more or less because it’s…magical?”

He laughed and she blushed. That was a stupid question. “No. No more, no less.”

He leaned forward on his elbows, dipping his head to ask, “Rune was working on your design yesterday, I think. I have to ask, what made you choose that?”

“Oh, I don’t think that was me. I only decided to do this today. My cousin picked out the design. She thinks it will keep me safe.”

Aaron opened his mouth but never had the chance.

“Ember,” Tristin snapped. “We don’t need to be telling our business to the magical community.” To Aaron, she said, “Mind your own business, Harry Potter.”

He held his hands up. Ember gave him a look of apology and flopped herself down, crossing her arms and shooting a look at Tristin.

“Don’t pout. You can flirt with him tomorrow. He goes to our school.”

Ember’s eyes darted to Aaron; hunched over the counter, charcoal pencil in hand, sketching on a small piece of paper, tongue poking from the side of his mouth as he concentrated. He went to their school?

“I’ve never seen him before.”

“He’s in the gifted program.”

“Our school has a gifted program?” Ember mumbled.

The beaded curtain at the back rattled and a rail thin middle-aged man emerged with cellophane wrapped around his bicep. He was riddled with tattoos. A large bald Polynesian man lumbered behind him. “You keep that ink clean, Hanley, if that thing gets infected like the last one don’t come crying to me.”

The man-Hanley-dug the heel of his hand into one bloodshot eye, making a disgusting noise at the back of his throat. “Yeah, yeah. I hear ya.”

As he passed by, he looked at Tristin with interest. He smiled, revealing a set of broken, yellowed teeth. “Hey, beautiful.”

“Keep walking, Dirtbag,” Tristin said without looking.

“Feisty.” He laughed to himself as he walked out the door.

“I’ll be with you girls in a minute, just let me get set up,” Rune called from the back.

“Sure,” Tristin said, glancing sideways at Ember, leg starting to jiggle.

“Why are you so nervous,” Ember joked.

Her leg stopped. “What? I’m not. I’m just ready for this to be over so we can go home.”

Ember nodded, eyes falling to the beaded curtain. She chewed on her thumbnail. This might be a bad idea. She wasn’t good with needles. She hated medical procedures. She didn’t think this necessarily qualified as a medical procedure, more a religious rite. She’d never been very good with those either. Of course, if the alternative was cutting out her own tongue or stabbing herself in the eye, what was a little pain?

The curtain moved, sounding like pearls scattering on hardwood. “Come on back, girls.”

As she walked by the counter Aaron snagged her hand, “Here you go, new girl. A present.”

He handed her a folded up piece of paper. She held it carefully, assuming it was whatever he’d been working so hard on moments ago. She smiled, “Thanks, you’re sweet.” She went to move, but he held on, looking at her with such intensity her heart knocked offbeat. He looked…worried.

“You’re welcome,” he murmured, his gaze shifting to the paper in her fingers and back to her eyes.

She looked at the paper in her hands, not sure what he wanted.

“Ember, let’s go.” Tristin tugged her away. This time he let go, his gaze falling to the man at the back.

Once they were behind the curtain, Ember’s nerves ratcheted up a notch. She wiped her palms on her jeans.

“Where do you want this?” He held up a stencil with a series of complicated lines and circles.

She hadn’t thought much of it. “M-My hip, I think.”

“Back or front?” he asked, not bothering to look at her.

She looked at her cousin. Tristin’s was in the front but she didn’t have the amazing abs that her cousin did. “Back, I think.”

“Roll over and lift your shirt.”

She did as she was asked. He tucked what looked like a paper towel into her jeans and prepared the area, applying the stencil. He poured ink into tiny paper cups and pushed the trigger on the tattoo gun to test it. Ember shuddered. It sounded like a dentist’s drill.

“I know you’re nervous, Darlin’ but you gotta calm down. Can’t have you shaking while I’m working.”

Ember nodded jerkily, folding her hands under her cheek before remembering the paper. She leaned up on her elbows as he rubbed something greasy on her back. She unfolded the paper and smiled as she saw the tiny lifelike rabbit. Her breath caught, smiling as the rabbit began to bounce across the page, darting from one side to the other. She glanced up to see if she could see Aaron through the curtain but he was gone. She looked back at the picture in time to see her rabbit twist and transform, lines rearranging themselves to form a single word.

RUN.

Ember didn’t question it. She jerked into a sitting position, just as he dipped the needles into the ink. “I’m not doing this. I can’t. I want to go home.”

She yanked the paper towel from her shirt, wiping the goop off her back. “Thanks for your time but I’m not ready yet.”

She didn’t wait for Tristin, bolting through the curtain and sprinting for the front of the store.

She didn’t stop until she reached the car, Tristin hot on her heels. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

Ember turned on her. “What is wrong with me?”

Tristin stopped short. “Yeah, what’s your problem? You said you wanted protection.”

Ember couldn’t believe her. “You are unbelievable. What is really going on?”

Tristin’s eyes skirted away from her “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’re lying. Mace is lying. Everybody is lying to me and I don’t know why,” Ember felt herself getting hysterical, her magic bubbling to the surface.

“Ember calm down.” Tristin begged. “Please, nobody is lying to you. Just relax, you don’t have to get the tattoo if you don’t want it. It was a stupid idea. Just forget it.”

Ember felt like she was on fire. Sweat trickled along her back and sparks shot from her fingers. “I am not doing this anymore. People need to start telling me the truth.”

Ember squeezed her eyes shut. She felt like she was going to explode with all this pent up magic and frustration.

“Ember,” she turned at the raw sound of her name.

“Oh my God,” Tristin said, gaping at the corner of the building.

“Mace?”

He hit the ground on his knees and she ran towards him.

“What happened to you?” she cupped his face in her hands. He was dripping with sweat.

“You did, Luv,” he rasped and passed out cold.

69

MACE

M
ace blinked swollen eyelids, colors swimming before his eyes as he tried to focus. His skin burned. He felt like he’d been put through a meat grinder. He let his fingers roam under his shirt, relieved to find that his scars were no longer burning. Ember’s magic was far more sadistic than he’d imagined. She hadn’t been gone five minutes when the pain started, steadily increasing until his skin felt as if it was blistering under his clothes.

It wasn’t like Mace had never experienced pain. He’d been tortured by people who considered themselves experts in such matters. This was different. It was like reliving every injury at once.

He tried to sit up but the world tilted. He laid back, stomach lurching. He was hungry, ravenous even. His teeth ached, his mouth was dry. He felt horrid. He felt…human.

What was she doing to him?

He lay there, curled into himself only snatching pieces of angry conversations as he fell in and out of consciousness.

“What were you thinking, Trist-” sounded like Kai.

“What about you? How could you not tell us about Allister?” Rhys, maybe.

“Everybody needs to calm-” Donovan? He thought before fading again.

When he came to a second time, it was to Isa’s furious voice. This time when he opened his eyes his vision was clear enough to see the alpha’s mutinous expression. “You are all going to tell me what the hell is going on. It seems like every time I come home from work, somebody is unconscious or bleeding. I am done with the lying. I’m not sure why you people have all decided I’m stupid-”

“That’s not-” Kai tried.

“Shut up,” Isa shouted. “The next person who says so much as one word without my permission is going to get their asses kicked. Are we clear?” Heads bobbed with enthusiasm. “Good. Sit down.”

He blinked as Isa’s shadow loomed above him. His eyes fought to focus on her. “How about you? You ready to start talking? You look like crap.”

“Thanks,” Mace said, dragging himself to a seated position on the sofa.

“What happened to you, anyway?”

Maces eyes darted to Kai whose gaze slid away. Guess that was his way of saying he wasn’t getting involved.

“I have no idea, really. Maybe it was Allister making a show for power?”

“You said it was Ember’s fault,” Tristin supplied, ever present scowl etched on her face. He flexed his jaw. He really disliked her. He knew she was going to be a problem the minute she hit him with that shovel.

He looked at Ember warily, “Only in the sense that my life hasn’t been the same since we met, Luv. I was out of it.”

Isa stared him down and Ember looked suspicious but he expected nothing less. He’d told her he couldn’t be trusted and proved himself right again and again. Now he’d proved it once more. There was a tinge that felt suspiciously like regret. He couldn’t wait to sever this connection so he could stop all these feelings.

Wolves and reapers dotted the living room. The little faery was the only one to escape the wrath of Isa, as usual. She sat in the corner of the room, a hundred and fifty pounds of dog in her tiny lap, oblivious to the tension in the room. He wondered again what her story was.

Wren was the only one to remain standing along with the alpha, arms crossed and looking like a disappointed father. Ember sat at the opposite end of the couch, near Mace but not near enough to touch. It was a pity, he wondered if her magic would quell the shaking. He felt strung out.

“Now,” Isa said, standing in the middle of the group. “Which of you wants to start?”

Eyes darted away from her. “Volunteer or I will pick somebody.”

Kai caved first, singing like a canary. He spoke of Ms. Josephine and what they’d really learned about Ember, including the part she played in the deaths twelve years ago. The alpha and her mate took the news well. He told, again, the legend Tate told him about the history of the town attempting to summon the Morrigan and how it changed the course of magic as they knew it. This was news to Donovan who wasn’t there in the days following Quinn’s death.

The reaper clearly took the alpha at her word because he divulged everything, including hiding a book in the woods just outside of town. Isa growled low in her chest at that.

Ember stuttered out what she knew about her childhood from her uncle and how she and Tristin had found the spell her father used to bind her magic. She told Isa about her run in with Stella and then, voice shaking, she talked about inadvertently summoning Quinn’s spirit.

That got Mace’s attention. He wondered how much Quinn had divulged in his time on this plain.

“I don’t even know how I did it.” She told Tristin, who looked as if she’d been slapped in the face. “I was just drawing him and he was there.”

“Drawing? Ember you can’t-” Wren started only to be cut off by Tristin.

“W-what?” Tristin stumbled forward, “How could you not say anything? What is wrong with you? What did he want? What did he say?”

Ember swallowed hard, “I didn’t tell you because he asked me not too. He didn’t want you to have to go through it again. Any of you.”

“Is that all?” Wren asked.

Mace sat up straighter. He was also very interested in what Quinn had to say. Ember’s gaze found his before sliding to Kai, tone accusatory. “No. He said I couldn’t trust Mace or Allister and seemed very surprised I didn’t already know this since Kai did.”

All eyes swung to Mace and then Kai. Isa stalked into Kai’s space. “Now, why would Quinn think you had some knowledge of Mace or and Allister?”

Kai sucked in a breath and said, “Because Quinn overheard Mace and Shelby talking about how Mace worked for Allister.”

The room erupted. “You work for Allister?” Wren said just as Donovan asked “Who’s Shelby?”

“Ember, I’m sorry-” Kai started but Ember just shook her head.

There was murmuring and side conversations until Isa hollered, “Enough.”

“You. Talk.” She growled at Mace.

“What would you like to know?”

Isa flexed her jaw and Mace had to admit watching her partially shift was fascinating. Her teeth elongating, eyes glowing, claws extended as she advanced on him. “I’m done playing with you, soul eater. Talk, now.”

“I worked for Allister. Past tense. I have since terminated our arrangement.”

“What did you do for Allister? He sent you to Ember? What is he after?”

“Ember’s powers.”

Isa’s brow furrowed. “What does that mean?”

“Allister thinks Ember’s magic is too dangerous and he is hell bent on unburdening her of said magic, good humanitarian that he is.”

“Why would Allister want the powers of a reanimator? How would he even go about that? He’s not a reaper. Even if he wanted her skills he couldn’t take them.”

“He could with the blade of Osiris.”

“What the hell is that?” Wren asked.

“A transference device.” Kai mumbled.

Isa spun on the boy, “You knew about this too?”

Rhys was staring down the boy now, expression dark.

“I just learned about it. Besides, Mace isn’t telling you everything. He’s not telling you why Allister really wants her powers. Allister doesn’t think she’s a reanimator.”

“What does he think she is?” Donovan asked.

“A necromancer,” Kai murmured.

They all looked at Ember, who took a step back. “A what?”

“Necromancer,” Mace told her. “Allister thinks you are a necromancer.”

“What exactly is that?” Ember asked warily.

“A fairy tale,” Wren muttered.

“No,” Neoma said from her seat on the floor. “They used to exist. They just don’t anymore. Or, they didn’t until Ember.”

“What does that mean? What is a necromancer?” Ember said again, a tinge of hysteria creeping in.

“The most powerful creature ever to walk the planet,” Mace told them. “Necromancer’s have abilities that rival the god’s. They have complete and total control over the soul. They can control the soulless, restore a soul, and resurrect the dead.”

“Is it true?” Isa asked, staring him down. It made sense but there was no way he could be sure.

“I hope not because if Ember is a necromancer and word gets out she’s going to have a target the size of Mars on her back. There will be no creature living or dead who won’t want to kill her or control her.”

He heard Ember’s shaky gasp and he could feel the heavy weight of Ember’s betrayed look but couldn’t bring himself to meet her eyes. Isa snatched him from the couch with one hand, claws digging into the back of his neck. “I extended my hospitality to you. We took you in and you’ve been plotting against one of my pack this whole time?”

“I didn’t intend to hurt her. I didn’t know about the knife. He wanted her power. That’s it. I didn’t know he planned to kill her. Honest. As soon as I knew, I quit and hid the blade.” He kept his voice calm, resigned to his fate. He couldn’t die but that didn’t mean she couldn’t make him long for death.

“Right, because you felt guilty? Soul eaters being known for their conscience and their strong emotional bonds.” Rhys huffed. “Sure, that seems believable.”

“I had a vested interest in Ember staying alive.”

“Meaning?” Ember asked bitterly.

“If she was dead, she was useless to me,” he said, deliberately vague.

“What were you getting out of this?” Ember demanded, her voice unsteady.

“Ember…” he started.

“What! What was in it for you?” She yelled, with a choked off sob.

Kai moved to comfort her but she put her hand up. “Don’t you touch me.”

To Mace she said, “What did he promise you? Just what exactly was it you thought powerless me would be doing for you?”

He could tell by the look on her face she was taking her thoughts to a far different place. He didn’t know which answer would provide more comfort. He could tell her the truth. He could tell her he hadn’t known what he was doing since the moment he laid eyes on her. Instead, he said, “What do you think I wanted? I wanted your soul, Luv. It’s who I am.”

Her face fell, tears brimming until she blinked them away. “Don’t you dare call me that.” She turned on Tristin then, eyes fierce. “Did you know?”

Tristin thrust her chin forward. “About him working for Allister? I only found out the day Astrid came by.”

“Wow. You really do hate me. What did I ever do to you?” Ember said, looking shell-shocked before asking, “Why did Aaron tell me to run?”

Tristin’s eyes went wide, sneering, “Is that why you bolted? Ugh, that little weasel. This is why nobody likes him.”

Isa shoved Mace back onto the sofa, turning to the girls. He wiped at the blood seeping sluggishly where her claws had pierced his flesh.

“Answer her, Tristin,” Isa growled. “Why should a simple warding tattoo illicit a warning?” To Ember she said, “What did you choose for your sigil, Ember?”

“Tristin picked it. This.” Ember lifted her shirt, showing her the stencil.

Isa’s eyes flashed red and she lunged for Tristin. “What were you thinking? What were you doing?”

“What is it?” Kai asked, moving forward.

When Ember spun to show him, Mace’s eyes widened. “Osiris. Again.”

“What? Why?” Kai was looking at his sister. “Tristin what the hell. Are you working for Allister too? You were going to put that on Ember permanently? Why would you open that…link?”

Ember started to panic. “Is this bad. Is it bad?” She started frantically scrubbing at the stencil, erasing it from her skin with her shirt. “What does it mean?”

“You tell us everything, Tristin. Now.”

Tristin burrowed deeper into the armchair. “We were going to bring him back.”

“Who? Bring who-Oh, Tristin,” Isa said, desolate. “You didn’t think you could bring Quinn back, did you?”

“She’s a necromancer. It’s what they do.” Tristin’s face burned red and a single fat tear fell from her eye. “She brought back that stupid dog. She brought back a bird and now that demonic cat. Why not him?” Her voice cracked as she pulled her knees into her chest. She looked at Ember accusingly. “Why not him? How is it fair you get to see him and I don’t?”

Ember looked at her, hands spasming uselessly at her sides, “If I could do that, if I could bring him back, I would. I don’t know how.”

Tristin looked at Isa imploringly, “Astrid says the spell will work. She says because of what Ember is, the spell will work. She’s sure of it.”

Isa looked sick. “Astrid put you up to this? Is Allister a part of this too?”

Tristin shook her head. “I don’t think so. She said it was just us. I didn’t even know about Stella’s plan for Ember. Astrid just told me when prompted to make sure Ember ended up at the tattoo parlor.”

“But why?” Ember asked.

“The spell calls for a branded witch,” she muttered.

There was stunned silence. Mace didn’t know if they were shocked at the lengths to which Tristin would go to bring back the boy or if they were contemplating the consequences of Ember having the tattoo. It didn’t pay to bind yourself to a god, especially the god of the underworld.