Inked Destiny

Before your birth. Even in paradise there are politics. Some pairings are a threat to those in power.

“Do you know where she is?”

I could find her if I desire. But the answer to your question will cost your human’s life. Time passes and you are unaware of its consequences. You are still changeling, as easy to kill as he is, though the magic will sustain your physical body a little longer.

Fear almost started her heart. “Cathal’s heart stopped too?”

Of course. Do you not understand what you did when you claimed him with your ink? Your bond is new enough that he can die and no harm will come to you. The same is not true of the reverse. Go. I will not hold you here any longer. But neither will I help you find your way back.

The Dragon opened its mouth, this time sending a burst of blue fire, the flames an ice-cold magic that slammed into Etain, knocking her into the bright white of a nothingness followed by inky darkness.

Six

Liam appeared in the room, his inexplicable arrival unnoticed in the fury of activity. Medical alarms screamed. A doctor and several nurses worked to restart the heart of the human lying on the bed. They used electrical shock while the detective used manual compression on Cathal, and Etain’s father did the same to her.

Liam knelt next to his future Lady. The silence in her chest was deafening, like being immersed in deep water. He could start a heart with his magic, just as he could stop one.

Suppressing all fear of what a changeling seidic’s touch might do if she grabbed him, he reached out to touch her, halting inches from contact at hearing Cathal’s moan, followed by, “Shit,” then a panicked, “Etain.”

She gasped, the hungry inhalation of one starved for breath. A heartbeat accompanied the sound, strong and steady, though unlike Cathal she did not regain consciousness.

Activity ceased at the bedside of the human. Liam heard the doctor call time of death but it held no relevance to him. Only the seidic changeling did.

Cathal lifted Etain into his arms despite the angry protests of her father, voice urgent as he asked Liam, “Why isn’t she waking up?”

“Take her, they will be able to do nothing for her here.”

He turned the gaze of an assassin on the captain. “You understood this could be dangerous for her. Don’t ask anything of her again.”

It was the only warning he intended to give. It was enough to get them out of the room and then out of the hospital without hindrance.

* * *

Cathal stopped next to his car, torn as to what to do next. Go back to Eamon’s, where the chance of escaping again seemed slim, or take her to his place.

He closed his eyes, pressing his cheek to hers, breathing in the scent of the shampoo he’d lathered in his hands as the three of them stood in the shower. “I can’t lose you, Etain.”

Not to death. Not to Eamon. Not to this supernatural shit that had him fighting constantly not to give in to fear.

“Come back, Etain,” he whispered, because this time he couldn’t follow her, he couldn’t find her, not in the physical sense. “Come back,” he repeated, unashamed of pouring desperation and longing and need into the bond he had proof existed between them.

He imagined himself grasping it, tugging as if the vines on her arms and the ink she’d put on his were connected and he could reel her in that way.

She stirred, a reward for his efforts.

He continued them.

Her eyelashes fluttered open after what seemed like an eternity.

“Fuck, Etain, you scared me.”

“Yeah, let’s not do that again.”

Her lips sought his and he loosened his grip, allowing her to slide from his arms and onto her feet so he could feel the press of her body to his as the kiss deepened, turning into a prelude to something they were in the wrong place for.

He pulled away, but only far enough so he could meet her eyes. “You okay?”

“I’m good. Kelvin?”

“No. They stopped trying to revive him right about the time your heart started beating again.”

He leaned in, touching his forehead to hers. “You want to go to Eamon’s place?”

“No. Nothing’s changed.”

“Etain—”

“Do you want to go back there?”

“No.”

“Then let’s stick to the plan. I need to draw.”

“You draw. I’ll get the pictures to the police, deal?”

“Afraid of letting me go out in public?” She sounded more tired than defiant.

“And if I admit I am?”

She sighed. “At least for what’s left of tonight, I wouldn’t blame you. I’m surprised Eamon hasn’t shown up.”

“Liam did.”

She shivered. “Did he do anything?”

“Other than warning your father not to ask anything else of you, no.” Cathal kissed his way to her ear. “He’s a killer, Etain, and it was a threat. I’ve seen enough of them—hell, I grew up knowing that’s what my father and uncle are—to recognize one. It just took a while to notice it in him.”

“Understandable given the whole gorgeous Elf thing he’s got going on. But you’re not wrong about him.”

Etain shivered again. In Cathal’s arms, surrounded by all the trappings of an ordinary world, the Dragon, the voice, even Eamon’s revelation seemed more exotic dream than reality.

Cathal captured her earlobe, giving it a quick suck then releasing it. “You’re cold. Let’s get home. I think I can find a way to warm you up. How long will the drawing take?” How much terror did you live?

Sadness rushed in with the return of Kelvin’s memories, a nearly overwhelming sense of loss. A life wasted because he was trying to help his brother get to the same place he was.

His death wasn’t on her, if anything Kelvin had very nearly taken her with him. But Vontae’s death…She couldn’t shake the guilt, the sense of having been responsible, because her gift was changing.

“It won’t take me long to draw.” She wondered if she could get word to Melinda, that Kelvin’s last thoughts were of his wife and daughter, then fisted the fabric of Cathal’s shirt as it occurred to her that in the moment she’d brought Kelvin to the point of death in his memories, she’d caused his heart to stop.

“Did she blame me?”

“Who?”

“Melinda?”

Cathal sighed. She heard his regret at not being able to offer her the comfort she desperately wanted. “I don’t know, Etain. No one expected him to survive, not even her, given what she said when we walked in. Would he have wanted to, like that?”

“No.”

“Let it go. There’s no point in playing the blame game. All I can tell you is that one minute I was standing