“Exactly,” she said, her grin widening farther.
Despite herself, Mirabeau chuckled, but then sighed and shook her head as she glanced over the tattoos Stephanie held. “Fine. Give me Cupid then.”
Stephanie’s eyebrows rose slightly. “Why Cupid?”
“Because he’s an archer, and so am I,” she said simply.
“Really?” Stephanie asked curiously as she began to prepare the tattoo.
“Yes. My mother trained me as a child, and I’ve kept it up over the centuries. I actually prefer the bow and arrow to a gun—much quieter and easy to see if you’ve hit your mark. Besides, our bodies can push out bullets given a little time, but they can’t force out the larger, heavier arrow. So if you hit a bad guy with an arrow, he isn’t likely to get up again unless you remove the arrow for him.”
Stephanie seemed impressed. “Can you teach me archery?”
“We’ll see,” Mirabeau murmured, unwilling to make a promise unless she was sure she could keep it.
“That’s a good policy,” Stephanie said solemnly, then raised the tattoo and asked, “Where do you want it?”
“My arm,” Mirabeau answered at once. She sat silent and still as Stephanie set to work transferring the temporary tattoo to her upper arm, her concentration on watching what she was doing. She was taken by surprise when Stephanie suddenly said, “I do have Dani, but she’s kind of wrapped up in Decker right now. Sometimes it feels like I lost her too.”
Mirabeau frowned. The entire situation was rather difficult. She knew Dani was doing her best by the girl, but with Leonius out there needing to be caught and having just met her life mate in Decker, Mirabeau didn’t doubt the woman would have trouble fulfilling Stephanie’s probably exaggerated need for attention. Anyone would.
Finally, she cleared her throat, and said, “It’s true she’s wrapped up in her own life at the moment. Dani also has to deal with all this stuff, you know. She’s going through every single thing you are.”
“But she has Decker,” Stephanie said unhappily. “And if they get married and have kids, she’ll have her own family. She won’t need me anymore.”
Mirabeau sighed. “She will always love you and need you in her life, Stephanie. If she’s preoccupied now, it’s just temporary. Besides, you too will someday meet your life mate and start a family of your own.”
“So will you,” Stephanie said quietly. “Do you think the loss will ease a bit then?”
“I don’t know, it might,” she said quietly, though the truth was she didn’t think she’d ever have a life mate and children, and the very thought that she might almost made her nauseous though she couldn’t have said why.
Stephanie was silent as she finished with the tattoo, but then sat back, saying, “There. It’s done. Look at it in the mirror.”
Mirabeau stood and moved to the mirror to examine her new temporary tattoo. It didn’t look too bad. It was just the black silhouette of Cupid on her arm. She could live with it.
“It kind of matches my outfit, doesn’t it?” she muttered, peering at herself in the black joggers and tank.
Stephanie choked out a laugh. “You hate it.”
“No,” she said at once, but then smiled wryly, and admitted, “I’ve just never been much into body art. It’s fine though. Nice.”
Stephanie laughed with open disbelief, then looked her over and sighed. “I hope I have a figure like yours someday so a nice man like Tiny follows me around with his tongue hanging out.”
“He isn’t following me around with his tongue hanging out,” Mirabeau said, amused.
“No, but if you could hear his thoughts…” She rolled her eyes, fanned herself, and added, “Oooh la la.”
Mirabeau laughed at her hamming, but was pleased at the thought that Tiny might find her attractive. She hadn’t taken the time to read his thoughts herself but thought perhaps she should. If he was as interested as she was, it boded well for her intention to seduce him. She would just have to be careful not to accidentally control his mind in bed if she got too excited. Marguerite would probably be upset if she did.
“So, am I going to continue to grow, or am I going to be stuck looking fourteen forever?” Stephanie asked suddenly, still peering enviously over Mirabeau’s figure.
Mirabeau’s eyebrows rose, surprise sliding through her. The girl had been turned about six months ago. She would have expected her to know the answer to those kinds of questions already.
“Well, Dani doesn’t know much about it,” Stephanie pointed out, reading her mind without apology. “Every time I ask her a question, she has to go ask Decker, then they get distracted and its hours or sometimes even the next day before I get my answer, so I just stopped asking her.”