Dead Ink (Karma #4) Page 4

  Fuck. “Are you absolutely positive? You aren’t getting a little rusty maybe?” There had to be something.

  “Yeah. I’m fucking positive.” There was some shuffling around before he spoke again. “You want to eat tonight, I need to get off the phone. There’s a line, because this is like the last sub joint in the area that’s open. Goodbye!”

  Angus hung up and Lars pocketed his phone. He walked back into the shop’s main room.

  Faith was lying right where he’d left her, looking like she was on the verge of a nap. He knew she couldn’t be that comfortable, which meant she had to be that exhausted.

  He sat back down beside her and laser focused his eyes on the one spot on her back. Don’t look anywhere else.

  He grabbed the bottle of cleanser, attempting to keep his thoughts on the project at hand. He drenched a towel with it and wiped it over her skin. He picked up the tattoo gun and started, wishing for the all-consuming submersion into his art.

  He made his first preliminary lines, struggling to get his mind into the mental state needed to create. “You’re going to go stay at Cutty’s until we figure out a better situation.” He could not have her in his place all night, that was definite.

  His canvas jerked upward as she looked over her shoulder at him, her eyes more alert than they’d been. “Which one was Cutty?”

  “The first guy that talked to you.”

  She looked off in the distance and then nodded. “I thought I was going to stay with you.”

  He wanted to know what about him made her think she was safe? Didn’t this chick have any instincts of self-preservation? “My place doesn’t accommodate visitors well.” Or it might be too accommodating in your situation.

  “Yeah, I get it. I just—”

  “You’ll be fine over there,” Lars interrupted. Next thing she’d be begging to stay with him. Women normally wanted to sleep with him but none of them ever looked at him like he was going to be their savior. That was a brand new role for him. “You’ll only be there at night. He’s going to bring you here in the mornings,” he continued. “Lie back down and try not to move.”

  She hesitated but then did as he asked. He got back to the tattoo, not sure what he was creating, just letting his hand guide him.

  “You’re going to feel really wiped out after I’m done.” He dragged a cloth across her skin, clearing his canvas of excess ink so he could see his creation coming to life. “It’s going to feel strange as I finish. Don’t be alarmed. It’s normal, at least in this situation.” He remembered the feeling distinctly when he’d done his own. He had been the first one to figure out how to quit from the agency on his own terms and without approval. He was still the only one of the guys who was capable of preforming the procedure, taking the special ink and applying it to the skin in just a way it absorbed and changed the essence of who you were.

  He’d tried to show the guys but none of them wanted to dabble in this specific field of the arts, so to speak. That hadn’t stopped them from wanting out as well. He’d helped them quit, one-by-one, until only Fate had remained with the agency.

  “I’m not scared,” she said, bringing him back to the present.

  He heard her sigh even though it was low and under her breath. She probably didn’t realize how good his senses were or how much better hers would get over the next few weeks.

  “So, you were in the woods this whole past week?” He’d never seen a human make it through the transition without getting violently sick. Not that there had been that many transfers. Most of the people who worked for the agency were born to the job but every so often the agency would bring on someone who’d been mortal first. Every single time, they’d been deathly ill for days, some not making it through at all.

  Even Malokin’s people, who had nothing to do with the agency, still got sick. It was just one of those hard facts. There was no way it hadn’t happened to her, which left a gaping hole in her story. How could she have made it a week alone like that?

  “Does everyone always get sick?”

  “Yes.” He waited for her to keep talking but she didn’t, so he prodded her. “How did you manage by yourself?”

  “I just did.” Her voice was soft, as if she resented having to speak of it and only did so because she was being forced to.

  He wasn’t one to take a hint. “You’re telling me you went through that in the forest alone?” It sounded completely unbelievable.

  “Yes, that’s what I just said.”

  She was daring him to say otherwise. No one spoke to him like that, and yet he didn’t say anything. The hint of spunk he’d seen in her was making its return. Even though he wondered if her whole story was a concoction of Malokin’s, he decided the truth could wait for now.

  ***

  She heard the guys’ return and the hum of the tattoo gun stopped.

  “Is it done?” she asked Lars, leaning up on her forearms to look at him but having no interest in seeing the tattoo.

  He placed the gun down on the table beside him. “No, but you should eat before I finish.”

  Cutty placed a sub sandwich near her head, along with a bottle of water. “You’ll be too tired after you’re done. You okay with turkey? Got a roast beef, or ham and cheese if you’d rather.”

  “No, this is great. Thanks.” She sat up quickly, trying not to seem too eager.

  She ripped off the corner of the wrapper and took the largest bite she could get her mouth around. After a couple of swallows, the edge started to wear off the hunger that had gnawed at her.

  Belatedly, she realized she’d torn into it like an animal that had just taken down fresh prey for the first time in a week. She slowed her actions but when she looked up at the guys, she knew it was too late. She put the sandwich on the table, trying to play it off as normal.

  “When was the last time you ate?” Cutty asked, looking at the sandwich she’d torn into. The other guys were looking everywhere but at her and the food, like they were uncomfortable.

  Her face burned as she answered Cutty’s question. “Not that long ago.” It wasn’t wholly inaccurate. A week was just a drop in the bucket, compared to eternity, when you thought about it.

  He grunted and shook his head, clearly not believing her, but dropped the subject.

  Faith sat up straighter, realizing the only face that remained expressionless was Lars’.

  “You ready?” Lars asked, moving his chair back beside the bench and picking up the tattoo gun again.

  She didn’t look at the sandwich but hoped they’d leave it there until after Lars was finished. She maneuvered around, lying on her stomach again and tugging her shirt back up and away from the now sore skin on her back.

  She saw the circle of guys form around her as Lars started working again.

  “What is that?” Cutty asked.

  “Since we don’t know what her strengths are, it’s just a random design I came up with,” Lars said.

  “Random?” Angus asked and then made a hmmm noise. “Hey, isn’t that—”

  “Something random I came up with,” Lars said, sounding a bit testy to Faith but she wondered if he ever wasn’t.

  “No comment,” Angus said and left Faith wondering what was on her back. She was just about to ask when she realized it didn’t matter if it was a circle with two Xs for eyes. It was there now, and as long as it distanced her from Malokin and the other one, Lars could tattoo anything he wanted. He could tattoo a fist with the middle finger sticking up if it sent the right message to them.

  She closed her eyes as she lay there. The soreness of the tattoo gun repeatedly going over already worked areas of skin should’ve kept her awake. The adrenaline of being surrounded by these men and in a strange place should have had her more on edge but she was almost on the brink of sleep when it happened.

  She felt a strange sensation, like the heaviness of something snapping back toward her body. It was sort of like the falling feeling that wakes you up from almost-sleep.

  “I ju
st felt something weird.” The little energy she had left was being sapped even before the words finished leaving her mouth.

  “That was you officially telling Malokin to go screw,” she heard Cutty say. “You can take your celebratory nap now.”

  “A nap?” she asked, yawning before she finished speaking and then she fell asleep on the bench.

  Chapter Six

  She woke in the softest bed she’d ever slept on, in a room by herself. A double window lit the space with warm morning sunshine. It was clean, bright and devoid of a single picture. There wasn’t even a knick-knack to be found. She had a funny feeling that Cutty was definitely a bachelor.

  She saw her arm, still with the filthy shirt covering it, contrasting as it rested on top of the clean grey comforter. She got out of the bed quicker than she wanted to and turned to see if she’d left stains behind. Only a guy would’ve put her in that bed as filthy as she was. Now she was positive he was single.

  She’d slept like a baby but couldn’t remember how she’d gotten here. Blurred out transportation was becoming quite common for her lately. Maybe she should start drinking more; that way when she couldn’t remember how she’d gotten somewhere, at least she’d have booze to blame.

  This time was different though. She’d landed somewhere safe…she thought. She was a fairly good at reading people and her instincts told her that Cutty was a good guy.

  But now what did she do? She couldn’t stay here forever but she had no life and no identity. The panic started to rise and found a nice comfy home in the center of her throat. No, she wasn’t going to freak out. She’d reached somewhere safe, away from Malokin and his plans for her and away from the other one, his companion she couldn’t bear to think of. That was the first step. She’d figure out the next one, too. She hoped.

  She looked around the sparsely furnished room and saw a stack of clothes sitting on the single dresser, a note lying on top.

  We weren’t sure of your size. There are more options in the closet. Help yourself to any of the toiletries in the bathroom. Will be back with breakfast by ten but sleep as long as you want.

  Cutty

  She laid the note down and took a good look at herself in the mirror above the dresser. It was jarring to see someone who looked nothing like her. She leaned in closer. This version of her had better skin, at least. That was a plus. She smiled, wanting to see what her teeth looked like and noticed she’d scored a nice set of dimples along with some straight pearly whites. Looked like as far as appearances went, she’d gotten an upgrade. After she got the dead vegetation out of her hair, and put clothes on that weren’t covered in dirt, she might look pretty good.

  Her eyes shot to the attached private bathroom and there was nothing that was going to keep her from the longest, hottest shower in history. There was something liberating about stripping off the filthy clothes Malokin and the other one had dressed her in, even if she was replacing them with clothes others had given her. Yes, these other guys weren’t exactly Boy Scouts either but they had left her clothes on when they put her in bed. Most of the human men she’d known would’ve undressed her just to sneak a peek.

  And she had to believe there was a sliding scale to bad. Maybe the guys she was with now were capable of some shady actions but there was no way they had souls as black as Malokin and the other one’s. In her book, dingy grey was the new white.

  She thought back to what she’d seen as she’d left the hotel that day, as she scrubbed the grime from her hair almost violently. She let the near boiling water pound her body, feeling the pain intensely where it hit the raw flesh of the new tattoo but she didn’t care. She would’ve suffered far worse than that to get rid of any connection to them. And as far as not moving on? She’d never been religious anyway. She used to think she’d get tossed in a ditch, so this outcome was actually a step up from what she’d expected. And there was no cost too high if it meant being free of them.

  Plates clanking and male voices drove her from the room, her skin still bright pink from the long scrubbing and her hair in a wet makeshift bun on top of her head. She tiptoed down the stairs, trying to make herself as inconspicuous as possible. It didn’t matter. Angus, Bic and Cutty were watching her as she came into view, as if they’d known she was approaching.

  “Yes!” Angus screamed. “I win, motherfuckers! I told you so. You assholes can’t pick out women’s clothes for shit.” He held out his hand, palm up. “Pay up, losers!”

  The eclectic nature of the wardrobe supplied for her suddenly made sense. She’d wondered how stretchy faux leather pants with matching halter-tops had ended up alongside pleated plaid skirts. Luckily, there had been some normal choices mixed in with the costume-like attire. In the end, she’d opted for a soft white t-shirt, light blue shorts and wedged sandals that were only a half size too big.

  Cutty muttered a curse under his breath but slapped a bill into Angus’ palm. He pocketed the cash and immediately turned to Bic.

  Bic’s face warned it wouldn’t go as smoothly with him before he spoke. “You still owe me for when Cutty—”

  Cutty punched Bic in the arm. Bic’s head swung back to her, hesitated for a second and then he continued. “Well, you know what you owe me for, and I’m not paying you.”

  “Yeah, forgot about that.” Angus turned his attention back to Faith. “Come here,” Angus said, waving her over excitedly, forgetting the lost cash.

  As she got closer, he started twirling his finger. Even though it seemed sort of odd to her, she spun around slowly as he clearly wanted her to do. She would’ve cartwheeled through the living room if that was what he wanted. Keeping her hosts happy and not getting thrown out was the plan for now. She’d keep the peace as long as she could, until she figured out another alternative. Or they drove her crazy.

  “Angus, can you let her eat instead of gloating?” Cutty roughly bumped into Angus, shoving him a couple feet away.

  “Just admit it, she looks good in what I picked. This is how normal women dress, not the skanks you like to bang. You would have had people offering her twenty dollar bills for five minutes in their backseats if she left the house in what you picked,” Angus said, bumping back into Cutty, them both moving in the other direction now.

  “I didn’t think my choices were bad,” Bic, the guy with the shaved head said as he sat down on the far side of the table that was loaded down with, pancakes, eggs, bacon, sausage and every other breakfast food known to man.

  Angus took the chair next to him. “Bic, you’re my buddy, but most women don’t walk the streets looking like they attend the sluttiest catholic school ever.”

  Cutty pulled out a chair for her and then used it to corral her snugly up to the table. The second he let go of the chair, he started heaping scrambled eggs onto her plate. Bic contributed by leaning over and adding five links of sausage. Just as Faith started to panic about how she was going to eat it all, Angus cut in. “What the fuck you guys doing?”

  Her relief didn’t last long.

  “Now we have to give her a separate plate for the bacon because you didn’t leave any room.”

  “She can heap it on,” Bic explained and then demonstrated by tossing some slices on top of the eggs.

  “We’re not animals. How is she going to cut her food?” Angus said and then laid another plate alongside the first. He then filled it completely with bacon. After they had piled up enough food in front of her to last a week, they went back to their own plates, which were heaped equally high.

  The talking ceased for a bit as they all dug into their food, like they’d been the ones who’d barely eaten lately.

  It was the strangest thing but as she sat there with these three intimidating men, she actually felt comfortable. There was an easiness and a self-assuredness about them that spread outward. They were okay with themselves, and strangely, she felt like they were okay with her as well. It went against all logic of how things should’ve been.

  It took her about five minutes of eating in silenc
e to get up the nerve to speak. “Can I ask a question?”

  Her eyes darted back and forth between the three of them and they all had the same expression. Uh oh. What did they think she was going to ask them?

  Angus finally spoke, and probably only because the silence was reaching a level of intense awkwardness. “Sure. What exactly did you want to know?”

  “If I’m dead, am I, like, technically a ghost or something?”

  “No one explained this?” There was obvious surprise in Bic’s voice.

  “Lars sort of did but I’m still trying to understand all this. I’ve got a body, but not the body I had, and I can still get hurt?”

  Angus leaned forward a bit. “You do know you aren’t human anymore, right?” he said it like he was worried he might have to give the birds and the bees explanation to a preteen, and the other two had stopped eating to wait for her answer.

  “Yes, I understand that part.”

  Angus let out a loud sigh and they all resumed eating.

  “Thank the Universe for small favors.” Cutty leaned back, sipping on his coffee before he continued. “You don’t know the hysterics some people have when you tell them they died. Ugly scene.” He picked up a piece of burnt bacon, pointing with it. “I certainly don’t want to be on the end of one of those conversations again.”

  Bic chimed in, “For as girly as she looks, I don’t think she’s the bawling type.”

  “But what am I?” Faith asked, trying to bring the conversation back to a question she desperately wanted answered.

  “You’re like us, now. You aren’t mortal but you aren’t dead,” Angus explained. “Every person in the world is basically just a ball of energy being held together. That’s something we have in common with the humans. The difference is we aren’t hampered by a mortal husk. Normally, when you die, your energy moves on to another place. We don’t.”

  “That sounds like a ghost.” Faith looked down at her hand, wondering if she was truly corporeal. “Are you sure about this?” Flashes of creepy horror movies ran through her mind. She didn’t even like ghost movies.