Bad Blood

She launched into the explanation of what had happened at the Primoris Domus the last time she’d been there and everything that had led up to her signum being stripped. “What I need is for those signum to be restored so I can make one last trip to the Aurelian, get the information that will help me find my brother, and I’ll never bother anyone at that house again.” She hoped her voice conveyed the sincerity of her heart.

“No signumist working for any comarré house would put those marks back on your skin. It would be an unforgiveable action.”

Her heart dropped. Of course he would say that. He was a real signumist. She hadn’t counted on that, assuming Dominic’s man would be some self-trained hack doing his best.

“Fortunately for you,” Atticus continued, “I am past caring about unforgiveable actions. If you desire these signum to be replaced, it would be my honor to do the skin work. It has been many, many years since I have stitched gold into one such as you.” He shook his head slowly. “These mortals Dominic brings me. They are so weak. So unprepared for what must be endured.”

She exhaled. “Thank you, Atticus. You can’t know what this means to me. When can we do this?”

His hand reached out, seeking something. It landed on the cane at her side. “When this is no longer necessary and you have properly prepared your body and mind.”

“The cane is just a ruse. I don’t need it.”

“What?” A muscle in Mal’s forehead twitched. “Why would you pretend to be more injured than you are?”

She met his eyes only briefly. “I have my reasons.” She returned her attention to Atticus. “I can prepare myself in a day. Maybe less.”

“Is there scarring?”

She nodded then remembered he couldn’t see her. “Yes,” she said softly.

He raised his hands, splaying his fingers. “I need to examine it.”

Without looking at Mal, she stood, pulled her hair over her shoulder, then slipped her tunic off. Mal had seen her in her bra before, but she hadn’t planned on it happening again. Not like this anyway. Clutching her tunic to her chest, she turned her back to Atticus. Mal’s gaze might as well have been a ton of red-hot coals the way it burned her skin. She held her head a little higher, refusing to be ashamed of the damage Rennata had left on her body. To Mal’s credit, he said nothing save an almost inaudible curse, but she knew if she met his eyes, they’d be dead silver. He couldn’t be pleased about what he was seeing, knowing he’d been the cause.

Atticus stood behind her. She gasped as his cool fingertips found her back, tracing their way to her spine. His hands were thickly calloused like every signumist she’d known. The heat of their trade turned their skin leathery. She knew when he’d begun to outline the scars because the sensation blurred into something more like pressure than true feeling. Perhaps the loss of feeling would make the new signum easier to bear.

“Hmm.” Atticus followed the wrinkled marks down the sides of her spine. “I’ll have to sand these scars first. They won’t take signum.”

“Sand them?”

“Smooth them out. Not a pleasant process, I’m afraid, but necessary.”

Her resolve wavered. She lifted her chin a little higher. “It will be fine.”

His hands left her and he sat. “Tomorrow, then, this same time. It will take me a little time to prepare the gold once you arrive, then we will begin. You will recover at home or here?”

“At home.” She tugged her tunic down. Getting home afterward was going to be unpleasant, but she couldn’t ask Dominic to use one of his suites. Things were tenuous enough. “Can’t you prepare the gold before I arrive?”

“Ah, yes, of course. I didn’t realize you had it with you.”

“I don’t.” This was not good. “I thought you’d have gold, actually. I can get some—that’s not an issue. I just wasn’t prepared.”

“I have gold,” Atticus assured her. “But what I use is common gold. The mortals I engrave are not true comarré. You know that. They never will be.” He shrugged. “Sacred gold would be wasted on them. But for your purposes, I assumed you’d want sacred gold as has been used for all your other signum.”

“I do. I guess. Is there a way to purify the gold you have?”

“Unfortunately, I do not have that capability. And without the proper gold, the signum won’t have the power to open the portals or access the Aurelian.”

She sighed and shook her head. “Where am I going to find sacred gold?”

Mal cleared his throat. “What about the ring?”

“What—” She looked up and the lack of expression on his face caught her attention. Only the pain in his eyes let her know he was still thinking about what he’d seen. She dropped her gaze to her hands. “Yes, I suppose that would do.” The ring of sorrows would certainly qualify as sacred gold. But that gold had its own power, and she had Mal’s blood in her veins now. Both made everything she was about to do much more risky.

Would the ring’s power manifest when laid into her skin? Would it react to the vampire blood she carried? That much power could kill her.

Or worse.

Chapter Seven

You failed, demon.” Aliza stared down the slightly crispy monster once again contained within Evie’s old aquarium. “A simple task and you failed.”

“Yeah,” Evie added, her left eyelid flitting up and down. “The house you made me is great, but I really wanted the guy.”