Page 40 of Bad Moon Rising
He rotated her wrist and touched the tattoo of his name in a gentle, respectful way that sent shivers up her arm. “I like that this is here.”
She reached out and traced the wrinkles at the corner of his right eye. “Who are you, Roman? Why is someone as powerful as you curse-bound to humans? Who are you cursed to serve?”
His eyes darkened.
“Does me touching you hurt? I’ll stop.” She pulled her hand out of his clasp and fingers away from his eye.
“I’m…okay.” It came out shaky. “My brothers and I were tricked about forty years ago and cursed into serving the reigning monarch of England. I must do his or her bidding for eternity. We’re required to fight inhuman threats to humanity.”
“You were forced into the curse?”
“It wasn’t by choice. Initially we agreed helping the monarch sounded reasonable, but then a witch twisted our vow of assistance to curse bound us to the Crown.”
“That sucks. Bet you hate being told what to do by some entitled snob.” She clasped her hands tightly together to avoid tracing the ridges of his forearm muscles. She wanted to feel their strength beneath her fingertips and follow the inked lines representing light or sunrays up the forearm closest to her. Looked like two small feet clad in armor poked out from the sleeve of his T-shirt, perhaps a person kneeling.
His lips twitched into a tentative smile. “The king asked that I kill you. Actually, there wasn’t anyasking.He ordered I do it without asking questions, even though he thinks you’re human, which violates our accord, since I only eliminate Britain’s inhuman threats. My handler knows you’re lycan. So that means the order holds. You seem to have assassinated a few people, and the king feels he’s next on your list.”
“Maybe I was a super spy, too, or an assassin. I do have these kickass fighting skills. But I couldn’t even tell you what your king looks like. There’s nothing in my head about him one way or another.” She shrugged.
“Dom said you have no memory. He’s never wrong. The fact he likes you means you have a purpose in this world. But I…” He buried his head in his hands. “If I disobey…if we disobey, the curse hurts me. It might kill me.” He held up his hand that had a tattoo band. “I often wonder if I cut off my arm at the wrist, under the tattoo that witch put on me, if I’d be free.”
“Wouldn’t recommend that. Curses don’t work that way.” She froze, eyes wide. “Wow, I just remembered that. I feel pretty sure it’ll burn a new band into your skin above your hacked-off nub.”
“Bad imagery. No limb hacking. Got it.”
His humor had her almost smiling. “Have you tried to get the curse lifted?”
“Uh, yeah.” He gave her a wide-eyed silent “of course.”He said, “You think we haven’t tried everything and consulted with everyone? The king has got a solid hand on my choke chain.”
Unable to resist, she leaned in and lifted the edge of his short sleeve to see the tattooed image. A kneeling angel. But not a normal angel. Battle armor covered the figure’s body to the point its head and face were hidden by a Medieval-looking metal helmet. Its wings lifted upward to Roman’s shoulder. She traced the long sword gripped in the angel’s right hand and a small pendant in its left hand. “This is incredible work. The detail is almost impossibly perfect.”
That pendant looked the same as the one he wore…
She reached for the two that hung on strong chains around his neck, knowing this was a bit of an overstep on her part, but she had to know. She’d seen them briefly while on the plane when he bent over to pick something up. His breath caught when her hand slid across the warm skin of his chest. A quick glance up for his permission found his eyelids had dropped to half-mast and his mouth parted.
“It’s okay,” he said. “You can look.”
A bronze pendant had the image of an angel; perhaps the one in the tattoo. The other had the same symbol as that on the pendant the angel held in its left hand, a circle in the center of a stylized star. To its right were flames, but to the left of the circle was water. She released the pendants, muttering, “Sorry. Had to know.”
He glanced down at the ink on his arm and back to her, tipping his head to the side. “Not everyone can see that tattoo. None pick up that he’s holding my hexenspiegel, which protects me from spells.”
“It’s kind of hard to miss the tattoo since it takes up most of your upper arm.” Her finger tingled when she touched the image again, sensing its energy. Unlike the curse band, this energy was positive, almost comforting…protective. She whispered, “It’s not a normal tattoo, aside from the fact that not everyone can see it.”
“It’s not.”
“Is it somehow magical? Not like the curse, but different?”
“I didn’t choose to have it inked on me.” He ran a pointer finger across the angel’s face. “After the first time I worked with one of God’s angels, it appeared.”
“A guardian angel chose you?” Wonder suffused her voice. “Why can’t everyone see the tattoo?”
“I’m not entirely sure since it’s only been there about two years. Those who intend to harm me can’t see it.”
“A guardian angel…incredible. What’s a hexenspiegel? I feel like I should know but I can’t…” She dropped her gaze. “Remember.”
He twisted the star pendant. “They reflect away evil energy or omens and can send the negative energy back to the sender. Simple version is they protect me against spells.”
“It didn’t protect you against the curse?”
