Angel's Ink (24 page)

Shoving to my feet, I gathered together the energy swirling about me and reached out for Simon’s soul once again. This time I would simply pull it from his body and release it into the air. The soul would not be able to reenter the body and the warlock would be dead. Sure, I would lose a year of my own life for killing him with magic, but it was a price I was willing to pay for Trixie. Only those with a death wish attacked a warlock.

As I pressed the energy into his chest, I could see Simon’s eyes widen in shock. The warlock disappeared, preferring a hasty retreat rather than continue this fight. Whispered words tripped off my lips as I scanned the area with both my eyes and my powers. My breath lay trapped in my lungs for several seconds as I waited for him to reappear, but there was no lingering essence of him in the air. Simon was gone, and considering that he had suffered such a quick beating, I was willing to bet that he wouldn’t be returning soon. I had some time to plan.

I breathed again as Trixie approached me, lowering her knife. Barefoot, she carefully picked her way across the pavement littered with rocks, broken glass, and bits of trash. She wore only a T-shirt and a pair of white panties. Noise from the struggle must have drawn her from bed. A part of me was grateful that Bronx had not heard the noise as well. It was bad enough that I now had to protect Trixie from Simon, I didn’t want to worry about him exacting his revenge on the troll as well.

With the release of tension from my shoulders, the storm broke overhead. I had been carefully controlling it, manipulating its power so that I could pull forth one long string of lightning after another. Now all that was left was a cold shower of stinging rain that felt like an overturned bucket on our heads.

“Are you okay?” Trixie asked as she joined me. She folded her arms tightly over her stomach as her glamour-colored brown hair was plastered to her head and shoulders. Her thin clothes clung to her tanned skin, creating a contrast of shadows and shining rivers of water.

“Fine,” I said through clenched teeth as I jerked my eyes away from her. Roughly grasping her elbow I led her over to the stairs that led to the second-floor apartment. “What do you think you were doing?”

“Helping you. It looked like you were getting your ass kicked,” she replied stiffly, pulling her arm out of my hand.

“I was, but you shouldn’t have taken such a risk.”

“You’re worth the risk.”

“No! No, I’m not. Not when it comes to the fucking warlocks. Isn’t it enough that you’ve got the damned Summer Court looking for you? Simon isn’t going to overlook your attack. He’s going to come after you now.”

A flash of lightning snapped across the night sky, followed by a deep rumble of thunder. The cold rain washed over me and I half-expected to see steam rising as my temper rose to near the boiling point. I finally pull Trixie into my life and she risks hers by attacking a warlock. Another bolt of lightning slashed the sky, creating a large bang as it slammed into a telephone pole. Sucking in a calming breath, I forced myself to relax. The storm was still connected to me and I didn’t need it to get out of hand because I couldn’t control my temper.

Trixie laid her hand against my cheek, drawing my gaze back to her face. “He’s a warlock. He had to know that I’m an elf.”

“So?”

“So, the warlocks have given the elves a wide berth since the end of the Great War. He may keep his attention on you.”

“The warlocks have given
the courts
a wide berth, not individual elves,” I corrected. “Besides, if he finds out you’re the missing elf, he may exact his revenge by just handing you over to the king of the Summer Court. Sometimes the best revenge isn’t death.”

Trixie glared at me, dropping her hand back to her side. “I can watch out for myself.”

I bit my tongue, suppressing my every instinct to protect her. I was being unfair, even though the chest-beating Neanderthal inside me demanded that I drag her back inside the apartment by her hair. “Yes, I know you can watch out for yourself, and I’m grateful that you came to my rescue when you did. Just promise me that you won’t attack another warlock any time soon, please.”

Trixie narrowed her eyes at me, but she seemed to be fighting a smile. “I won’t if you can avoid trouble for a little while.”

A smirk tweaked one corner of my mouth despite my overwhelming fatigue. “I’ll try.”

“Go home, Gage. Get some sleep. You look like you’re about to fall over.”

“Great idea,” I muttered. Sleep seemed like a distant sweet dream that I could never touch, a mirage dancing like a cool oasis in the middle of an arid desert. The day had been longer than I wanted to contemplate and tomorrow was going to be even worse. I still had to find a way to kill some innocent girl who had done nothing to me beyond walk in my front door.

Chapter 20

“J
ust knock him out and let’s get going.”

“I can’t.”

I lay still, listening to the harshly whispered conversation flowing above me. The fog of sleep was dissipating fast and I recalled falling asleep on the couch in my living room after locking the door. I had told myself that I was going to stretch out for only a couple of minutes and that I would then set my protection spells and go to bed. Apparently, I never made it off the couch.

And now I had at least two unwelcome guests in my apartment, though I was grateful that at least one assailant was reluctant to attack me, but I didn’t think that was going to last for long if I didn’t do something.

“What do you mean you can’t?”

“I mean . . . it’s just that it’s Gage. I can’t knock Gage out. He’s a good guy,” argued the second voice, which I was finally able to recognize. Freddie the Moose. He stopped in the shop from time to time, getting fresh ink and generally catching up on local gossip. Nice guy, but definitely not the brightest bulb in the pack. Unfortunately, I didn’t recognize the second voice, which was more adamant about me remaining unconscious.

“The boss said to fetch him and to be careful. Careful means unconscious.”

Freddie’s extended silence made me nervous. His friend’s argument was starting to sway him and I needed to act before someone decided to take a baseball bat to my melon.

“You know, guys, you could just say please and I might come along quietly,” I said as my eyes snapped open. Both large men jumped back. Freddie was stunned for a second before a wide grin spread across his face, cutting into his heavy jowls. The other man was a little warier, drawing a gun from heaven only knows where and leveling it at my chest.

Yawning wide enough to crack my jaw, I sat up and stretched my arms over my head. My body ached from yesterday’s scuffles, and I felt filthy, but I didn’t think Tweedledee and Tweedledum were going to let me slip into the shower. In fact, I didn’t see coffee in my immediate future, which was enough to sour my mood. There were too many things I needed to get done, and I didn’t have time to waste on unplanned appointments with a boss who felt the need to send two goons after me rather than just call.

“Afternoon, Gage!” Freddie greeted me. “Sorry we woke you.”

Well, that answered my question as to whether I’d gotten any sleep. I still felt like crap, but I had apparently been dead to the world until after noon. “No problem, Moose. What do ya need?” I dropped my arms and leaned against the back of the couch while propping both my feet up on the coffee table in front of me.

“The boss needs to see you,” Freddie said in an excited whisper as he leaned close.

“Who’s the boss?”

“Mr. Roundtree would like to see you,” the second man said, stepping a little closer as he relaxed his stance with the gun. He didn’t put it away, but he wasn’t pointing it at my chest anymore. I took a good look at him. Where Freddie was a giant mound of muscle and fat, this man was tall, broad shouldered, and full of what I was willing to guess was lean muscle. Match that with his gold eyes, shaggy hair, the five o’clock shadow on his tan face, and a hint of a woodsy, musky scent and I knew that I was looking at a shifter, probably a werewolf.

I didn’t know this Mr. Roundtree, but I knew the local mob that ran most of the city was composed heavily of pack creatures such as werewolves. I really didn’t hope this had anything to do with Jack and the infamous Chihuahua incident. The local shady groups were nice enough to steer clear of me, and I dreaded finding out what had finally caught their attention. There just wasn’t time for this shit.

“Look, I appreciate Mr. Roundtree sending the welcoming committee to fetch me, but could you tell him that I need to take a rain check?” Pushing to my feet, I started to walk between the couch and coffee table toward the hall and my bedroom. Freddie just continued to smile at me, but his companion wasn’t smiling as he raised his gun. I stopped and glared at the shifter. “I’ve got things I really need to get done today. Maybe we could have drinks later in the week.”

“Freddie!” the man barked.

“I’m really sorry, Gage,” Freddie murmured. I twisted around to see him raise his meaty fist and then bring it down. I would have liked to think of a spell that would freeze everything or at least halt the descent of Freddie’s fist. Instead, my only thought was that my day was already screwed. And then the world went black.

H
oly shit! I’m drowning!

My eyes snapped open and my entire body jerked, fighting what I thought were swamping waves of water closing over my head. I sucked in a breath that wasn’t filled with water and my gaze jumped around to find that I was sitting in a dimly lit bar or restaurant instead of bobbing out in the middle of the ocean. My eyes landed on a large man holding an empty pitcher. Apparently my host needed me conscious and I was awakened with a splash of ice-cold water. It could have been worse. I shifted in my seat, and was attempting to raise my hand to wipe off the excess water when I realized my hands were tied behind me. It
was
worse.

“It’s unfortunate that we had to meet like this,” announced a voice in front of me, drawing my attention away from one predicament to the next. I squinted, but could not make out my captor as he sat back in a dark booth. The hands folded on the table were encased in black leather gloves, sending a chill through me that had nothing to do with the ice cube sliding down the back of my shirt. The gloves hid what was most likely a revealing trait of his race, but I could already guess what was sitting across from me.

“As a business owner in Low Town, I figured that it was only a matter of time before I was approached by either you or one of your . . . associates,” I replied, fighting to keep my voice flat and even. I wasn’t in any physical danger, but I had to be careful if I wanted to get out of here without revealing all of my secrets.

When the inhabitants of the world weren’t cowering in fear of the Ivory Towers, they were usually being harassed by the local organized crime families, particularly business owners in less than great neighborhoods. Asylum had been open for more than four years and I hadn’t been approached by them until now. I didn’t question my luck, hoping it was simply a case of Sparks putting in a good word for me. There was always the possibility that they were afraid of me, but something had changed, and not for the better.

“I’ll admit that I’ve kept my eye on you, Mr. Powell, since you opened your quaint tattoo parlor. It’s my understanding that you’ve been quite profitable.”

I shifted in my seat, trying to find a more comfortable position that wasn’t painful for my shoulders. “Helps being good at what you do, Mr. . . .”

“Reave. You may call me Reave. And, yes, you are good, aren’t you?” There was something in his tone that made my blood run cold. I sat still, waiting to hear where this was going. I thought it was going to be a quick and maybe slightly painful meeting in which I would be told I would now be paying protection money.

“But you’re only twenty-five, twenty-six?”

“Thereabouts.”

“Pretty young for someone with your kind of skill. One might think that you’ve had some other kind of training.”

I knew where this was going now. He suspected I was a warlock, but his approach didn’t make any sense. Why was I attacked if he suspected I was a warlock? I could slaughter them all in the blink of an eye and walk out of there without a scratch. This mob boss seemed to think he had some sort of ace up his sleeve.

“What’s your point? I’m a good tattoo artist, and I know how to stir a potion. There are a few people with those skills.”

“But you have more than just a few interesting skills with a needle and ink. Jackson Wagnalls would certainly argue such.”

“Who? Jackson Wag—” The blood rushed from my face as the name finally clicked in my brain. A part of me wanted to laugh at the ridiculously appropriate last name for the werewolf I’d turned into a Chihuahua, but I couldn’t drag a breath into my lungs. This man had called me in because he did know I was something a little more than I pretended to be. The Chihuahua incident had come back to haunt me, but not in the way I had been anticipating.

“Yes, that Jack,” the shadow man said with a chuckle. “Remember him now, or do you pass your afternoons amusing yourself by turning people into small mammals?” At that moment, one of the pack members I had seen the previous day walked up to the table from behind me, carrying Jack in one hand. The little dog growled and barked at me, flashing his tiny teeth in his irritation.

Narrowing my gaze on the dog, I sneered, “There are worse things than a Chihuahua. Try a fish out of water?”

Jack instantly fell silent with a whimper as he proceeded to tremble in the arms of his keeper. I looked back toward the shadows in time to see Reave raise one hand toward the werewolf and Jack, waving them away. He then motioned to me, as if prompting me to try to deny what we all knew.

“If you’re so desperate to go down this road, let’s do it correctly,” I snapped. With a couple of whispered words, the ropes binding my wrists behind my back uncoiled like a snake unwrapping itself from around its prey. The rope then slithered across the room behind me, causing several of the men acting as guards in this meeting to gasp and curse as they moved out of the way. As I raised my arms, all the lights in the room came on. A quick glance around showed that I was in Strausse Haus Restaurant and Bier Garden, which wasn’t too far from Asylum. Frowning, I turned my full attention back to my host, who was glaring at me.