Page 35 of Tragic Ink
Chapter 12
From the cabof the truck, Rhys frowned as we both studied the empty spaces where tattoos had once covered my side and hip. The hellhound had left a large blank spot on the right, and then the chastity belt had disappeared on the left. Then there was the missing heart from where it had lived for a short time on my chest. It was strange seeing so much smooth, unmarked skin when the rest of me was practically covered in ink. Guilt pricked at me for the hound. And even more so for the heart. Not so much for the belt. Rhys had definitely deserved thatone.
“So they can only be used once, right?” Rhys asked, even though I’d already explained it all.Twice.
“Right,” I said,exhausted.
The light ahead turned green, and Rhys hit the gas. He hadn’t told me yet where we were going, and he’d already turned away from the Court’s headquarters in town. But he was also keeping me talking, which made it hard to wonder too much aboutit.
“So the hellhound,” Rhys said as he made a right turn. “What would have happened to it if we hadn’t killedit?”
“I’m not exactly sure. I mean, when the spell had run its course, it would have vanished. Its only power lies in executing its order.But...”
“It had already killed Fred and Betsy, and it was still coming after you,” he finished forme.
“I’ve never seen that before,” I admitted. “Unless the spell was more complicated than wethought.”
“What do you mean?” Rhys pulled to a stop at a four-way intersection. When it was clear, he went straight through. This part of town was mostly industrial. I wasn’t sure where we could possibly be meeting a Court member in this area, but he pulled into a half-empty warehouse lot, wound around behind a row of buildings, and cut theengine.
“Well, the words used to activate it are simple. It’s all about the intention of the person wearing it. If his intention was to have it kill Fred and Betsy, it should have blinked out. But...” I trailed off, unwilling to say the words outloud.
“But if it’s intention was to, say, pin a murder-suicide on you, it would still be kicking when we arrived,” Rhys saidgrimly.
“Yeah.” My voice washoarse.
For a moment, we were both quiet as we digested this newtheory.
“Gwen, we have to report this to theCourt.”
My head snapped up, my gaze whipping to his. “What? How can you ask that of me? I’ll be arrested orbanished.”
Rhys shook his head. “I can speak for you.I—”
“What the hell good would that do? The facts are all there. My tattoos have helped kill four people so far. There’s nothing you couldsay.”
He growled. “If you’d just told me about the magic, that it wasn’t over with that one tattoo, I could have helpedyou.”
Touchy. We were both touchy as we forced ourselves to dance around the issues between us. My issue was that we had a killer to find, and all I wanted to do was make out with him on the couch like a high schooler. I sort of hoped that was his issue,too.
I huffed. “And whose fault is it that we weren’t on speaking terms all this time?” He opened his mouth. Closed it again. “And don’t act like you didn’t know. You were watching me, remember? You know more than I probably want you to know rightnow.”
“It was my job,Gwen.”
He was right. And his job had kept me and Aelwyn alive and safe until now. I couldn’t bring myself to keeparguing.
I sighed. “To answer your question, yes. The magical tattoos I give can only be used once. As soon as the magic has run its course, my copy merges with theirs, and they both disappear forever,” Iexplained.
“But Ethan is different,” hesaid.
“Yes.” I hesitated. I’d never actually told anyone any of this. Except for Aelwyn. And she was gone. “Ethan is... I realized a couple of years ago, that if I want to, I can create something morepermanent.”
“But you’ve never done that with the spelled tattoos,” hesaid.
I shook my head. “It only works on myselfanyway.”
He grunted. “Thank the gods you didn’t decide to do it with that damned chastitybelt.”
Ismirked.
