Page 35 of Dark Ink

“It’s one big bonfire at this point. Scratched lines on your wall would have been more effective for counting.”

“But not as cool.” I wink at him, then point to my chest again. “Last one here. I will pick out a new space next time.”

He shakes his head but starts arranging his things next to me.

“Only the outline today. I have Ivo coming before opening as well. Guess what? He wants a commemorative tattoo. Have you started a trend?”

“Not on purpose,” I say as I rub the areas that will soon be covered in ink. The fire tattoo started with a tiny flame at my solar plexus. Then tendrils of yellow, red, orange, and black were added after every successful job done. When I joined Lavender, most of my chest was burning in ink. After I left a few months ago, there was only one addition—two flames on my pecs, reminiscent of wings, for the time I had targeted Penelope’s goons and saved Tanya and Damien from what seemed like certain death.

Memories of arson, explosions, and warm fires envelop me as Joshua does his stingy magic on my skin. He’s done half an hour later, and my new flame outlines shine with reflected light from the tattoo film. As always, I love it.

I put my shirt on and wave goodbye, eager to leave before Ivo gets here. I have no time for small talk—it’s time to fix the whole Tanya/Jenya situation.

Artificial light, thousands of people, sparkling floors, and the smell of filtered air—we’re at one of the places that make my skin crawl. A shopping mall.

Jenya’s eyes go wide as we stand at the entrance, abandoning the warm morning outside. Tanya told me we weren’t meeting at Love and Err, but to meet here? Why?

I look at her with a pleading face, forgetting our strife for a moment. She’s looking at Jenya instead, with an expression I can’t decode. With her black leather jacket and jeans that hug her every curve, she looks relaxed, like a big sister. Jenya’s wearing a skirt and a shirt that look a bit out of place, like she’s from a vintage housewife ad. But she looks more comfortable than in my oversized clothes, and that’s what’s important.

I pull Tanya a step back and whisper in her ear, “Why are we here? Jenya has to go to the embassy today.”

“She will go in a bit. I want to show her what this world has to offer. After that, I’ll let her go,” Tanya replies.

So she’s had a change of heart. Jenya, or someone else, has soothed her temper. I’m not going to challenge her decision, for fear she might flip again. A bitter voice in my head reminds me that whoever helped Tanya work through her rage and hurt surrounding the cult and Jenya’s presence, it wasn’t me.

It will probably never be me because Tanya never says anything outright and I can never read her. We’re an emulsion, unable to mix together without an external force. And I don’t see anyone lining up to help us sort our shit out.

“Fine,” I say. “What are we doing first?”

“Shopping, of course.” Tanya smiles and takes Jenya’s arm, leading her into the swathe of people in front of us.

I wait outside as they go into the first clothes shop, then the second, and the third. The fourth is a stationery store and I go inside with them to look at the display of expensive fountain pens in one corner. I’ve always wanted one, but for some reason thought it was redundant. I barely write by hand anymore, instead opting for the iPad for any notes I have to take. My eyes focus on the refill ink, which costs a fraction of the price of the pen. Maybe I should get one anyway.

Tanya and Jenya are picking out notebooks, so I take the opportunity to call for a staff member and choose a pen. I opt for a mid-range Parker that feels cool to the touch and fits into my hand like it’s meant to be held by me. I also pay for two glittery notebooks that Jenya is fascinated by.

“Look at how they reflect the light,” she says, turning them this way and that. I look at the wall ahead, where the notebooks are creating a myriad of pretty colored dots, and the hairs at the back of my neck rise. There’s a tall man standing next to the entrance. He’s bigger than me in every direction, and the top of his face is obscured by a baseball hat, worn low on his head. He’s scrolling on his phone, but an alarm bell goes off in my mind.

It could be a newbie Minor Arcana looking after us, or it could be Koschei or Comet International looking for a way to get Jenya back. In any case, I’m not letting them both out of my sight anymore. My feet are already starting to hurt, but today isn’t about me. Tanya and Jenya are bonding, and for once, no one is upset with me.

Waiting inside shops wasn’t too different from waiting outside. I quickly found the chairs in the fitting rooms, or near them, and spent a considerable amount of time herding Tanya and Jenya toward that side.

Both of them are trying out dresses at the moment, and I’m sitting next to another dejected-looking person.

“Yes, Mom, that looks great on you,” she says after an older woman twirls in front of her in a dress with big, colorful flowers. It does suit her.

I glance to the side, checking out the entrance, and spot the man with the baseball cap instantly. He’s been following us, together with another man, into every store. The confusing thing is that his partner just went into the male fitting rooms to try on a pair of jeans. Is it simply a bored boyfriend, our paths converging because we like the same things? It seems likely enough to cast doubt over the whole narrative I’ve built in my head.

I don’t get more time to consider because Tanya comes out of her fitting room looking like she stepped out of one of my fantasies. She’s wearing a sleeveless sky blue dress that reaches a bit below the knees. It accentuates her thin waist and ample hips and showcases her beautiful shoulders. It makes me want to run toward her and twirl her in my arms.

“You look amazing,” I say shyly, not sure if my opinion is needed or even wanted.

Tanya smiles and for a moment, the world falls away. It’s not one of her sarcastic, sharp smiles. It’s an image from my distant memories, from back when I joined Lavender.

Jenya comes out as well, looking uncomfortable in the same dress.

“Isn’t it too revealing?” She tugs at the hem, trying to bring it below her knees. Being taller than Tanya, the dress doesn’t flatter her as much. Her frail arms look weak, and her shoulders jut out. The dress has a high collar, completely hiding both their chests, but Jenya’s collarbones protrude uncomfortably through the fabric.

“It’s elegant, but perhaps something longer will make you feel more comfortable,” Tanya says as she looks at the mirror.

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