Bound by Ink (A Living Ink Novel) (32 page)

Remorse counted for nothing.

For the two days she was in the hospital, Nathalie refused Isa’s visits.

Steve, Troy, his wife, Cheri, Oki, and Master Masatoshi took turns tag teaming Nathalie.

Assured Isa had been cured and would live, they left her alone. She let them.

Murmur vanished into Daniel’s life.

When Nathalie’s doctors released her, Isa gathered her courage and texted a request to Steve that he stop by.

Murmur, as if magically aware that she’d made up her mind to answer Steve’s proposal, beat him to her front door.

Wagging and whining, Gus met Murmur at the front door. The dog replayed the same song and dance when Steve arrived.

Steve’s gaze went past her. Rage darkened his gray eyes and he stopped dead in the doorway.

Isa snorted, grabbed his lapel, and yanked him into the apartment. “He got here five minutes ago. I did not call him.”

“You didn’t need to,” Murmur said.

Steve bristled.

“Perhaps you can advise me,” Murmur said to Steve.

Isa blinked.

Steve started.

“I didn’t foresee survival,” Murmur said. “Not in this form. If I live as Daniel Alvarez, it will be on my terms. Not his.”

“I don’t understand,” Steve said.

“His dwelling is tainted,” Murmur said. “I do not want it. He willingly shackled himself to people who believe they comprehend the concept of power. They seek to bind me by their agreements with him.”

Like a man intrigued in spite of himself, Steve lowered himself into one of Isa’s armchairs. “Who exactly?”

“You will assist?” Murmur countered.

Ikylla jumped into Steve’s lap and settled down, eyes squinting in smug bliss.

Steve glanced from Murmur to Isa. “Is this why you called?”

“No,” she said. Her heart kicked into high gear. She sank to sitting on the edge of the couch. “I lived. I came back. You—you haven’t asked me.”

A pleased smile came and went on Steve’s face. His glance went to Murmur, lounging on the opposite end of the sofa from her with Gus resting his chin on Murmur’s thigh.

“I think we have some issues to work through first.”

“You have a key,” Isa pointed out. “He doesn’t.”

“He doesn’t need one if you’re going to let him in.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Her phone buzzed. Incoming text.

She ignored it.

It rang, playing “These Dreams.”

The shop.

She huffed out a breath, broke eye contact with Steve, and answered. “Troy. What’s up?”

“Nat’s here. Get down here. Now,” Troy ordered. “She’s packing.”

“What?” Isa bolted for the door. “On my way.”

She paused in the doorway and glanced back. “Can I trust you not to kill one another? It’s Nathalie, packing to leave.”

“You can’t fix this,” Steve said, his voice gentle.

Fear slid into her gut. “I have to try.”

She ran.

“Hey.” Troy opened the shop door for her. “Where are Steve and Murmur?”

“Upstairs.”

“Is that safe?”

“Murmur asked for Steve’s opinion on how to get Daniel on the straight and narrow. I think.”

Troy breathed a laugh. “If you have those two on good terms, then maybe you can repair this damage, too.”

“I haven’t fixed fucking anything, Troy. Not with Steve. Not with Murmur. Not with me.”

“Try with Nathalie,” he ordered. “She’s in the studio.”

Isa went to the door of the piercing studio.

Nathalie rummaged through drawers, shoving her belongings into a backpack.

Isa stopped in the doorway feeling like she’d walked into a wall. “Nathalie, don’t go. Please.”

Nat glanced up. The fear still hadn’t drained from her face, and her gaze ran away when Isa tried to look her in the eye.

“Gotta,” she said, shoving belongings into her backpack. “I can’t—I can’t do this, Ice. Can’t forget. Can’t sleep. Can’t.”

“We’re your friends. Your family,” Isa said. Her voice broke. She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Let us help.”

“I can’t,” she said.

“Where will you go?”

“Japan. Master Masatoshi offered to teach me how to”—she shrugged—“cope, I guess.”

“Gus and Ikylla will be heartbroken,” Isa whispered because she couldn’t trust her voice, not with the hot coals raking the backs of her eyes. “Me, too.”

Nat swiped moisture from her face.

“I’m sorry,” Isa said. “I—”

“Don’t,” Nathalie choked. “You grew up with this stuff. I didn’t.”

By “this stuff,” Isa assumed Nathalie meant magic. Life-altering, form-shaping magic that she hadn’t thought to protect her friend from. Didn’t know that she could have if she’d wanted to.

Isa nodded. Hot, heavy moisture overflowed her lashes. Because Nathalie was right. She did have to go. “Master Masatoshi will be an excellent resource.”

“Thanks.”

“God damn it,” Troy growled from behind Isa.
Thud
. The door frame shook.

“Will you come back?” Isa asked, pressing her voice small so it wouldn’t crack again.

“I don’t know. Troy? You okay?”

Isa glanced at him.

He nursed scraped, bleeding knuckles that were rapidly swelling. His brows lowered like storm clouds over his pinched features.

Isa held out a hand. “I’ll—”

“Do what?” he spat. “Make everything okay?”

She dropped her hand back to her side, hurt lodging in her chest. “No. We’ve established that isn’t in my power.”

She walked away. Her fault. Because of magic. Because of who and what she was. She pulled up short in the middle of the reception area.

Weary.

Aching.

“I’m done,” she said. “Nightmare Ink is yours. You don’t have to leave, Nathalie. I should be the one.”

“Stop it,” Nathalie snapped. “It isn’t you. It’s everything. I can’t stay. I can’t go on living in ignorant bliss. Troy! Shut up! There’s so much I didn’t know. So much I didn’t want to know. Now I do. I have to figure out how to deal with that and with what happened. But I want Nightmare Ink to come back to. I want family to come back to.”

Troy sniffled.

Isa choked on a sob.

“Damn it, Nat. We’ll miss you,” Troy said.

“Yeah,” Nathalie breathed. She walked past Isa, her pack slung over one shoulder, and out the front door of Nightmare Ink.

The floorboards shook beneath Isa’s feet.

Troy settled an arm around her shoulder.

Isa started. Her indrawn breath wobbled.

“Sorry,” he said.

“Me, too.”

“I’ll patch the wall.”

“Will you let me patch you?”

He blew out an audibly shaky breath. “Yeah. Got a client in an hour.”

Without a backward glance, Nathalie climbed into the waiting taxi.

It pulled away.

Another sliver of Isa’s world crumbled.

She really, really hated change.

“You, me, Steve, and a demon in someone else’s body, kid. You think we can do this?” he asked. “Can we be Nightmare Ink?”

“You heard the lady. She wants a family to come home to,” Isa said. “We can. We have to.”

Special thanks:

To my beloved husband, Keith, whose patience, faith and support know no bounds.

To Officer Louie J. Luiz Jr. (ret) for answering questions I hope few police officers get asked.

To Alison Myrabo for information and for laughter.

To Emily Ria Olesin, Alden Denny, and especially to Riley—the goofy and adorable inspiration for Augustus.

To James Ray Tuck Jr. of Family Tradition Tattoo for being so generous with his professional knowledge—any errors in tattooing details (or lack of appropriate details) are entirely mine.

To Laura Bickle, Carolyn Crane, and Jeffe Kennedy for helping keep me on track.

To my family for rooting for me, for talking up my books at every turn, and for not disowning me over that faraway look I’d get in my eye whenever a story started playing in my head.

To Dawn Calvert, Darcy Carson, Connie Colman, Carol Dunford, DeeAnna Galbraith, Melinda Rucker Haynes and Lisa Wanttaja- a great group of writers, mentors and, best of all, friends.

To my editor Leis Pederson for helping me tell a better story.

To the members of Feline-L whose wide-ranging backgrounds and interests allowed me to ask the most obscure questions and receive cogent answers.

Last but certainly not least, my sincere thanks to Autolycus, Cuillean, and Hatshepsut, my feline snoopervisors, lap warmers, keyboard walkers, and reminders that no matter how large looms the deadline, there’s always time to play.

Marcella Burnard
, author of
Nightmare Ink
, graduated from Cornish College of the Arts with the ever-practical degree in acting. She promptly made more money as a musician than as an actor, so it made sense that she switched to writing fiction for Berkley. Her first book,
Enemy Within
, won the
Romantic Times
Reviewer’s Choice award for Best Futuristic of 2010. The second book in the series,
Enemy Games
, was released in 2012, followed by the novella,
Enemy Mine
, set in the same world, in 2012. She currently lives with her husband and their cats aboard a sailboat on Puget Sound, and writes full time.