A Perfect Blood. Ким Харрисон

David had regained his excitement, and was leaning on the glass counter until Emojin tapped a hand-lettered sign taped to the top telling him not to.

      “You’re a witch, right?” Emojin muttered as her fingers clicked over the keyboard. She had a beautiful voice, as soft and full as the rest of her. Her perfume was nice. Sort of a powdery coolness. “We have David’s basic design on file.”

      David ducked his head, tugging his coat straight as he looked up eagerly again. “I’d like to add to it to show her higher status.”

      Emojin stared at her monitor as one finger kept tapping a key, scrolling. “Not a problem. I thought you might.”

      Something special? For me? “Really?” I said, then warmed at the eagerness in my voice.

      David smiled, showing his teeth, taking my hand and giving it a quick squeeze before letting go. “Of course. This is important to me.”

      And here I’d been avoiding it. God! I was such a jerk.

      Behind Emojin, Wayde was following the younger woman to one of the “offices.” She flicked on the light and put her hand on the Were’s chest, stopping him at the archway. Telling him to stay outside, she started to clean everything. The smell of antiseptic tickled my nose, and Emojin lit a stick of incense, waving it briefly before dropping it into a dusky bottle to smoke to nothing.

      “Here’s your registered design,” she said as she spun the screen to David and me, and we both leaned closer, being careful to not put our weight on the glass. The basic tattoo was a simple dandelion flower gone to seed, the fluffy parachutes being black instead of white, and the green stem coming from a small cluster of leaves. The moon was behind it. It was nice, I guess, but David clearly wanted something special. To be honest, it wasn’t doing anything for me. I was just happy the other ladies hadn’t wanted broomsticks and bats.

      “I’ll do the draw myself,” Emojin said, and I blinked in surprise. She had put on a pair of round-rimmed glasses, reminding me of Al as she looked over them at me. “But Mary Jo will color you in. She’s my daughter and almost as good as me.”

      “Okay,” I said, glancing at Wayde and Mary Jo. She was pushing him out of her way, firmly pointing a finger to the front waiting area. The guy didn’t have a chance, but they both looked like they were enjoying the game.

      “A tattoo should have meaning beyond its individual art,” Emojin was saying as she tapped the design. “What can you bring to this that is entirely you?”

      Wincing, I tilted my head. “I don’t know. What do you think, David?” I asked, seeing that he’d clearly given this a lot more thought than I had. I was such a bad alpha.

      “More flowers on Rachel’s tattoo,” he said immediately. “And the moon behind it.”

      Emojin was nodding, her gaze distant as she saw it in her mind. “To match yours?”

      “Yes, but we’re not a couple, so they should be different,” he said. “Make hers full to show her completeness.”

      Complete? Was he kidding? I was about as unfinished as one could be and still survive.

      “Let me think.” Emojin hit a few buttons on her keyboard, and a huge, outdated printer behind her hummed to life. “I gave you black fluffs. Let’s keep that element the same between you to show unity.”

      This was getting more complicated by the moment, but I didn’t want the two of them to come up with something that was going to take more than a day to complete and cover my entire back. “Um …” I said hesitantly as a piece of paper slid from the printer. “Sometimes less is more. Maybe we could stick with just three flowers. Make one yellow, one that’s closed and ready to change, and the last one with the black dandelion fluff?”

      Emojin leaned to take the printout. Her eyes were sharp on mine when she came back and set it before her. “Change,” she said, looking me up and down with the same evaluating air she’d had when I first met her. “That’s what you’re all about, isn’t it? David, she’s right. Give me a second.”

      “Only three flowers?” he said, clearly thinking that I should have more, and I smiled nervously. I didn’t want a bouquet. I wanted something simple.

      Emojin had a black pencil in one hand and another in her teeth. Almost oblivious to us, she began sketching a new drawing beside the original print. She was a true artist, and as I watched the tattoo start to take shape, I decided I liked the idea of wearing something that this woman created.

      “This is good,” she said as she added a few floating seeds from the open seed head. “Simple, elegant, easy to do, and rich in symbolism. What do you think?”

      She spun the drawing to us, and I took in a breath, loving it. “Oh, this is beautiful,” I said as I picked it up, and Emojin beamed. Even David seemed happy despite there being just three flowers and only two actually looking pretty. The third was in an ugly in-between stage, like me, I suppose. My God, she had somehow made the angles on the leaves look like wolf heads, and with the moon highlighting it, it was a true piece of art. And it was mine—if I wanted it.

      “Okay,” I said, handing it back. “I’ll do it. I don’t care how much it hurts.”

      Emojin smiled, all her wrinkles folding in, making her beautiful. “I knew you would.”

      From the front of the store, Wayde made a rude bark of laughter, and I turned to him. “What are you laughing at?” I demanded, and David put a calming hand on me.

      “You.” Wayde slouched in his chair. “God, Rachel. It’s not going to hurt that bad. The way I hear it, you’ve had worse.”

      “Not intentionally,” I said, stifling a shiver. “You’re just sulking because you got pwned by an elf.”

      David gave my arm a squeeze as Emojin slid from her stool. “Thank you,” he said earnestly. “I know this means more to me than you.”

      Uncomfortable, I winced. “I’m sorry it took me so long, but at least now I know it will last.” I shook my arm with the silver band, and a hint of worry crossed his expression.

      Moving slowly, Emojin joined us. “So, all I need to know is where you want it.”

      I blinked, remembering a demon asking me the same thing. “Uh …” I said intelligently. “Where would you suggest?”

      She exhaled, tired. “You’ve not given this any thought.”

      Wayde had started our way, and he pulled his collar aside, saying, “A real Were would put it here, where everyone could see it, but since you don’t want to show affiliation—”

      “Mr. Benson,” David growled, facing him with his hands clenched.

      “That’s not it at all!” I said, angry as well. “I just didn’t want to get one only to have it vanish after some stupid demon transformation curse! They don’t last through that, you know.”

      Wayde stopped a good eight feet back, slumped with his weight on one foot in a maybe-show of submissiveness, but his jaw was still clenched defiantly. Smirking, Emojin stepped between them. “I’d suggest an arm or an ankle,” she said as if the two weren’t ready to face off. Training or not, Wayde would lose badly. The only reason David had asked for Wayde’s help was because David had a problem forcing me, his alpha, into anything.

      Emojin shook the paper to get David and me to look at it. “You’re going to want to show this off on request. Putting it on your ass might be a bad idea.”

      I laughed to help defuse the tension, and both men turned from each other. “The ladies have put theirs on their front shoulders,” David said. “It’s very showy.”

      But I didn’t want showy. I wanted subtle, and my stomach started to hurt.

      “With your fair skin, this is going to look fabulous,” Emojin said, seeing my hesitation. “I may ink this myself.