Dead Ink(Karma Series Book 4)(7)

"Nothing," Angus said quickly.

"You're sure? Take a second to really think on it. You're completely  positive you aren't missing anything? I mean, it's not like you didn't  miss the fact that Karma was being tracked."

Angus let out an annoyed sigh. "We already talked about this when it  happened with Karma. However he does what he does, it isn't a curse."

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 just 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.