“It’ll sharpen your blade so it cuts through any armour. One blade - choose carefully.”

  He tucked his hands in his pockets and sighed happily.

  “This is your happy place, isn’t it?” I asked with a laugh.

  His usual grin was back on his face.

  “Almost. Put me in a blade shop, and you’ll struggle to drag me back out. There’s something about blades that makes me happy.”

  I didn’t dare poke that topic any further. We all have our quirks and charms.

  I paid the large sum of money for the small vial of potion and allowed Rex to guide me back to his apartment. Fein had given him a spacious one-bedroom apartment with views over the river. The older building was heavily warded, with warriors and Sidhe carved into the pale cream stonework. The interior was modern with clean lines and bright colours. I’d expected it to be darker, with heavy comfortable furnishings. Instead, the kitchen was pale silver with black detailing, and alchemical lights were inset in the double-height ceilings. I felt like I was dirtying the place with my presence.

  “Relax, apply the potion to your favourite blade. I’ll make us some sandwiches. We have an hour and a half yet,” Rex called over from the kitchen.

  I perched on the edge of the black leather sofa and unsheathed my silver stiletto. I laid it on my lap and re-read the label on the small vial for a third time.

  “Just use the dropper along both edges of the blade. There’ll be a little smoke, but that means it’s done its job,” Rex said as he placed a large plate of sandwiches on the coffee table in front of me.

  I opened the vial and carefully applied the drops to the edges of the blade. The smoke began to curl upwards the moment the final drop had been applied. The vial crumbled and vanished in my hand, but I barely noticed as my blade was consumed by blood red smoke.

  I raised an eyebrow at Rex. Had he screwed with me? The Cu Sidhe laughed.

  “You got yourself a theatrical alchemist. Don’t worry, it’ll be fine in a minute.”

  The smoke dissipated after a minute or so, and my blade appeared to be entirely intact. I inspected it closely to be absolutely sure. It had been a gift from my father, and I was very attached to it. What would my father think of my situation? He was a respected weaver, someone that turned heads and had Council members bowing and scraping, hoping he’d bestow a favour upon them. Once everything was cleared up, I’d ring him. It had been too long since we’d caught up.

  When I finished eating my very generously sized lunch, I asked Rex why he’d been given an apartment to himself while the rest of us had to share. He’d laughed and stretched his legs out in front of him.

  “When you’ve known Fein as long as I have, he’ll afford you the nicer things.”

  “How long have you two known each other?”

  His smile widened. “Now, that would be telling.”

  “Aw come on, you must have some interesting stories.”

  He shrugged and looked pointedly at the clock in the kitchen.

  “Time to go play nice with the Ceremonials.”

  I mentally prepared myself and picked my satchel back up. It felt far lighter than it had earlier.

  “Fox?” I called.

  I really needed to learn its name. I knew it was in Elvish.

  The fox shot out of Rex’s bedroom and burrowed its way back into my satchel. Once it had situated itself, it popped its head out and yipped at me.

  “I apologise for the fox…” I said.

  Rex shook his head with a smile.

  “Don’t worry about it, I can’t blame it for wanting a nap somewhere more comfortable.”

  With that, we headed out into the city to our next appointment with the Ceremonials. This time we were prepared.

  16

  The Ceremonial’s home was another study in extravagance. The woman’s home had more gold and alchemical glasswork than I’d ever seen before. We were escorted into a square room with a single seat in the centre. Three people were waiting for us. The Ceremonial who was to receive the tattoo was a tall woman with golden skin and the slight point to her ears that said she had elf or Sidhe in her bloodlines a few generations back. She’d had the good sense to wear a backless top over leather pants.

  A middle-aged man with deep green hair and dark skin stepped forward as the woman made herself comfortable on the chair.

  “You will bring through a sylph.”

  “You expect me to help you enslave a fucking sylph!?” I demanded.

  Keirn’s fox growled from within the satchel and Rex tensed. Sylphs were like air nymphs. They were humanoid to look at when they chose to take a physical form. They were intelligent enough to barter with people and offered transport services. People were known to make friends with sylphs and had long conversations with them. To demand that I lock one away in a tattoo and take away its freedom was appalling.

  “Mr. Corbeaux. You seem to misunderstand the situation.” The man took a single step towards me, his gaze hard. “You will bring through the sylph, or your lover will die.”

  I gritted my teeth.

  “I cannot promise that she will survive the process,” I said.

  I could all but guarantee she’d die, but it didn’t seem like the best plan to phrase it quite like that. The man looked back at the middle-aged woman behind him. Her lips pursed and her eyes hardened, but she nodded.

  “You will do everything you can to make sure it is a success,” the man said.

  I set my satchel down and made the usual preparations while trying to calm the ink network that thrashed within me.

  “I know I can’t bring through a fucking sylph!” I shouted at the ink network.

  Bubbles of red and slate grey formed around my vision as the network tried to drag me back into itself. I drove it back.

  “No. You are going to help me try and do this. If she dies during the process, so be it. We need to make it look like we tried. For Keirn’s sake,” I growled at it.

  I wasn’t going to have the network steal away my chance at getting Keirn back.

  For the first time since I’d become a tattoo magician, I forwent the painting portion of the process. It seemed like a waste of perfectly good paints, and I wanted to get straight down to the tattooing. The sylph was not going to come through. I didn’t know how the woman would die, exactly, but she was going to die at my hands that afternoon. I pressed my thumb against the small needle that mixed my blood with the ink and accepted that I was fine having her death on my conscience. It was her or Keirn, and I wasn’t sorry to say that Keirn won without a shadow of a doubt.

  The network flooded my hands and dragged me into the tattooing state. The pitch black left me blind for a couple of heartbeats before my vision cleared and I saw the faint outline of a sylph.

  “Enslave her?” the network demanded.

  “No. Bring her through just enough that it looks like we tried,” I pushed back.

  I was aware of the soft warmth of Keirn’s fox pressing against my calf. I must have looked like shit from the outside.

  The sylph fluttered around us, a soft white outline with smudges where I thought her face and hair were. She gave off the feeling of calm and peace, which was a nice change from the aggression a lot of tattoos hit me with.

  I didn’t know how well I’d be able to communicate with her, or where she even was. Could she be out in the physical world somewhere? Was I going to be trying to pull her from her life into the tattoo? When I asked the network, it remained stubbornly silent. I cursed and began the tattoo proper.

  It was difficult finding the edges of the sylph to draw her outline through into the woman’s essence. She was such a vague concept, she kept slipping through my fingertips. It took everything I had to pull the edges of her through and make her take on a sharp cream colour in contrast to the pitch that surrounded us. Her face was full of curiosity and wonder as she looked at me. The exhaustion was beginning to hit me, and I’d barely even started on the broad strokes.

  I wasn’t going to take her from her home, her life. I just needed her through enough to finish the job. To kill the woman. My stomach twisted at the thought of it. It had taken so little to make me completely fine with murder. The excuses bubbled up in my mind. The Ceremonials had taken Keirn, and who knew what atrocities they’d committed. They were completely fine enslaving the sylph, and they were notorious for stealing and enslaving ferals. I didn’t know the woman, but I didn’t need to. Or so I told myself. She was involved in this whole sordid mess, and that was enough.

  The sylph moved closer to me. Her fingers slipped over mine as I caressed the ink threads around the very edges of her. She giggled in my ear, a gentle sound of the wind brushing through long grass. Suddenly, the soft wind became a raging hurricane, and I was thrown out the tattooing state. I was physically thrown away from the woman and landed hard on the floor. The woman cried out in agony before a howling wind erupted from her mouth. I watched as she was torn apart from the inside out.

  A gentle giggle filled the room before the silence descended and engulfed us all.

  17

  The woman had been disintegrated into a fine red mist that coated the chair and surrounding area. Rex was growling with Keirn’s fox at his side.

  “If you try and harm Dacian, I will tear you limb from limb,” Rex snarled.

  “He killed my baby!” the older woman screamed.

  “He warned you that was a possibility,” Rex said.

  “He’s supposed to be the tattoo ambassador! Why can’t he bring through fucking tattoos!?” the man shouted.

  “Because I am still a magician, not a god. There are still rules I must abide by,” I said as I packed my things away and told the fox to get in the bag.

  The fox growled, but did as it was told.

  “We’re not done with you yet,” the man said.

  “Oh, I’m sure you’re not,” I said.

  “If you harm Keirn and Vyx, we will hear about it, and we will come for you,” Rex said matter-of-factly.

  Both survivors visibly paled.

  “Come on, Dacian,” Rex said as he gestured to the door.

  My vision swam as I left the room. I’d be screwed if someone picked a fight. I was more than exhausted. I felt as though every scrap of my innate magic had been drained, leaving me vulnerable. The emptiness threatened to consume me as I walked down the street. Rex put his arm around my shoulder and guided me into a taxi.

  “Let’s get some food in you. We’ll have pizza and incubus cuisine,” Rex said good naturedly.

  I gave him a smile as my stomach growled. “Thanks.”

  “You’re not a bad person, Dacian. Sometimes good people must do unpleasant things. Such is the nature of life.”

  Had he have said that to me a year ago, I’d have shrugged it off as some bullshit a hired killer said to keep themselves sane. In that moment, I nodded and sank back into the seat. He was right. Life wasn’t black and white. Situations weren’t always neatly tied up with a bow. The woman had made her decisions, and she had paid for them.

  Shadow engulfed me in a hug when I walked into the living room.

  “Rex told us what happened; you look like shit. Get a shower and we’ll order some more food,” he said.

  Luka gave me a much more restrained hug on my way to the bathroom. I felt numb, but the chasm within me was slowly beginning to fill again. I’d had no idea it was even possible to drain all of my magic like that.

  “Sylph borrowed,” the network helpfully pushed when I stepped under the scalding hot water.

  “Is it something I’ll need to worry about?” I asked it.

  “No,” it said very sulkily.

  I got the impression that it was a point of pride that it could keep me flowing with magic at all times; the sylph had been an unusual situation.

  I scrubbed every inch of myself until I was raw. I hadn’t even realised I was doing it, my hands working without my paying much attention. My mind was blank. I felt distant from everything. Shaking my head, I got out and grounded myself in the physical sensation of the warm dry towel against my skin and the sound of Kyra yowling. I let the cat out, and she proceeded to stroll down the hallway with her tail high. The ungrateful wretch could at least have given me a little comfort before she went to steal some food.

  Aris lay across my shoulders and squeezed gently when I allowed him out of his tattoo. At least the great snake had some loyalty. Fein was waiting for me when I walked into the living room and moved Kyra out of my seat. It was a little odd to see the elf in semi-casual clothing eating a slice of pizza. His usual very expensive suit had been replaced by well-cut pants and long-sleeved button-free shirt.

  The cougars had out-done themselves with the food. The coffee table was heaped up with pizzas, incubus foods, and Thai food.

  “You looked like you needed lots of food,” Shadow said with a shrug as he handed me two cartons quickly followed by two slices of pizza.

  Kyra mewed plaintively.

  “You’ve been given duck, you’re plenty spoilt,” Luka told her firmly.

  She gave him her very best kitten eyes. Luka turned to her and reflected the gesture back at her. It looked incredibly bizarre seeing the hard-edged mercenary with large kitten eyes, pools of adorableness designed to give him whatever he was asking for. I looked away and tried to erase the image from my mind. It wasn’t right.

  Everyone ate in a comfortable silence with the tv on in the background for a while. Once I began to feel like myself again, I turned to Fein.

  “I assume you’re not here for the free food…”

  The elf stretched languorously before he smiled at me.

  “The politics around the Ceremonials and this situation are complicated. You need to make a decision,” he said casually.

  “What sort of decision…?” I pressed.

  “Continue to play their games, or break Keirn and Vyx out.”

  I finished off the last of the incubus dumplings while I rolled his statement around my head.

  “What are my chances of breaking them out?”

  Fein looked around the room and smiled.

  “You’ll have three of the best mercenaries in the city on your side. I cannot get as involved as I would like, though. You will need diplomacy.”

  Diplomacy didn’t sound like something I could handle all that well, but by the gods I would try.

  “How do we do this, then?” I asked.

  I was ready. The Ceremonials had screwed me around too much. I needed my Snow back in my arms. I needed Vyx’s light to fill the apartment again.

  “Find allies in the underground, and keep your head down. If the Ceremonials hear of this plan, then we can’t guarantee your friends’ safety.”

  “And you can if we keep things quiet?” I asked, a sliver of hope rising.

  “I have someone on the inside, yes. There are limits. You must be careful, Dacian.”

  We were going to break them out. And if the gods were on my side, the Ceremonials would be made to pay for their mistake.

  18

  I’d pushed to go and find these allies as soon as we’d finished food, but the cougars wouldn’t allow it. They insisted that I’d fuck it up and I needed sleep.

  “It’s a delicate situation, Dacian, we can’t afford for you to charge in and fuck it up,” Luka had said.

  Diplomacy wasn’t my forte, so I relented and accepted that they were right. I knew the basics; my father had taught me how to survive in high society, after all. Kyra had curled up in the crook of my neck when I headed to bed. Keirn’s fox wriggled its way against my chest and almost made me sob. I missed the feeling of Keirn’s back against my chest as I fell asleep. The fox nipped Kyra and shoved her away so it could nuzzle my neck and offer some comfort. Kyra had hissed and growled, but curled up close by without starting an actual fight. I dug my fingers deep into the fox’s fur and held it close as I fell asleep, focusing on images of getting Keirn out of whatever hole the Ceremonials had thrown him in. It wouldn’t be long now.

  I had fought with Keirn’s fox for half an hour before I gave in. The underground wasn’t the place for an animal as valuable as the fox was. The fox, however, didn’t give a damn and was determined to stay at my side. Kyra lounged out on the sofa and slept through the entire debacle. Perhaps I could trade her in for a nice loyal fox.

  In the end, the fox clamped its teeth on the bottom of my jeans and refused to let go until I threw my hands up and said, “Fine, stay close, and don’t get stolen.”

  It gave me a huge grin and a yip of victory.

  No one was surprised when I showed up in front of the agreed upon pub with the fox glued to my ankle. Rex gave a quiet laugh, but the cougars didn’t even acknowledge the fact. I’d been outdone by a fox; the diplomacy thing wasn’t off to a great start.

  It was ten in the morning, and the pub in question was relatively quiet. It stood at the junction of four tram stops and made a good trade out of that location. When the trams switched over to the night trams, every single tram passed through that stop, making it even more so a hub of activity. From the outside, it was a small nondescript building with cream walls, a small window, and a heavy wooden door that had seen better days.

  “We’re going to split into two groups. Rex will be with you, Dacian. Try and find Magda the hedgewitch. We’ll target Ronan the shadow walker,” Luka said.

  He pushed off from the wall and brushed his lips over Shadow’s cheek before he straightened his shoulders and stepped into the small pub. It wasn’t somewhere I’d been before; there were plenty more modern bars throughout the city that I’d visited. Although, in honesty, I hadn’t been out as much as I’d have liked. I’d spent too long hiding what I was. A lot of good that had done me.

  The interior of the pub was cramped and old-fashioned with well-worn slate tile floors and off-white walls that weren’t entirely straight. Four small tables were squeezed against the wall to my right with a broad bar to my left. A series of eight or so stools were crammed under the lip of the wooden bar, leaving just enough room for us to walk through single-file. There were only three patrons. A pair of grizzled tinkers with a few days of stubble and oil-streaked hair were having a very intense conversation in the middle table, their upper bodies hunched over the tabletop, revealing the welding burns in their t-shirts. The barman was an older shifter with short-cropped blue-black hair and hard pale blue eyes. He stood cleaning the same glass with disinterest as we walked through, his gaze following our movements.