Page 22 of Clarity

“Yes, of course. I’m a witch, I understand the magic. But why were you hesitant to do it?”

“Because you’re not a vampire," he answered, shaking his head a bit. “When you cross blood like that, it's going to hurt.”

“Tattoos already hurt.”

“Not like this will,” he warned, and Parris interjected.

“You don't have to worry about that," he told me. "You won't feel anything you don’t want to feel.”

“Gon’ hurt for you too, boss," the other vampire told Parris.

He shook his head. "That ain't the type of thing that concerns me." He shrugged.

No, of course not.

It seemed like the type of thing he'd enjoy, actually, to a degree that most would likely consider sinful. Of course, the other vampire didn't say that, though. He simply nodded and gestured for us to follow him.

The destination was a candlelit room that surely some type of hyperspeed had been used to set up. There were two reclining tattoo chairs right next to each other instead of facing head on.

We followed the instructions to sit down, waiting for the next thing.

"You still sure you want to do this?" Parris asked.

I shrugged. "I already told you I wasn’t, but… I’m doing it," I said, and he nodded.

"Just making sure. Last chance to back out.”

"I'm not pussy," I told him, and he smirked, then looked to the duo who was apparently going to be completing this for us.

He gave them a nod.

The next thing I knew, there was a needle in my arm, drawing blood. Next to me, Parris was getting the same. The two vampires then exchanged the vials, pouring the deep red liquid into matching pots of ink at their workstations.

I didn't have to wonder what the tattoo was going to be. There was only one thing itcouldbe, to complete the spell.

A name.

I cringed a bit at the cold alcohol pad to cleanse the skin on my neck.

Another requirement.

It couldn't be in some secret place. If you did this, it was on display for anyone to see, which made it all the more serious.

But there was no backing down now.

My face was already turned toward Parris, his face turned toward me. He reached out, grabbing my hand, and… it started.

Itdidhurt.

But only for the briefest moment before I felt the imposition of Parris in my head, smothering my senses. I could still feel the tickle of the needle on my skin, the slightest sting as the blood-mingled ink soaked into me, but nothing like that very first sensation.

I focused on Parris. His tattoo was on the opposite side of mine, situated so that if I was standing on his right, he would see his name on me. For now I was turned tomyright, watching my name—my full name—get permanently scribed onto his neck. I looked for signs of discomfort and found none. He was tuned in completely on me, staring me down like I was something he wanted—no,needed—to consume.

It was quite... exhilarating.

Impatience had me dying to get out of that seat, aching to get somewhere private with him. His grip on my hand tightened as he smirked. He knew exactly what was happening in my head, but that was fine.

I wasn’t ashamed.