Page 23 of Born Reckless

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Page 23 of Born Reckless

“Back off, Roman,” Mason growls. He steps forward, placing himself between Roman and his sister.

Roman just gives a cold laugh, a smile pulling on his lips.

Roman is a vampire. Elena is a vampire. Mason is still very much human.

The man in the corner stands and rolls his stool toward me, pulling his cart next to him.

It’s hard to tell how old he is. He could be nineteen. He could also be thirty-five. He’s medium built, and he carries himself in a way that makes me think he wants to be invisible.

I can’t blame him. He’s human, and he works with a bunch of vampires who could drain him in just a few moments.

“My name is Warren,” he offers with a slight, timid smile. “The tattoo will be your tracker. The barrier that surrounds the city reacts to the combination of your blood and my blood. When you leave the city, we know. When you enter the city, we know.”

“You’re going to permanently mark me, in exchange for being able to stay here?” I ask in annoyance and disbelief, even though I knew this was coming.

“It’s non-negotiable,” Roman says as he goes to lean back against a wall, his arms folded over his chest.

“You can pick the design, and where,” Warren offers.

“It just has to be visible,” Elena says. “Obviously vampires recognize each other by scent. But unless a vampire is marked in Chicago, you don’t talk to them. Not until they receive their mark. Passing an interrogation earns it for you. Until they’re marked, you can’t trust them.”

“Roses are the most common tattoo in the world,” Warren says as he gets his machine ready. “They won’t draw attention, but they’ll make it easy to know who’s been cleared and who hasn’t.”

I swallow once. Elena warned me that security was tight here in this city. But this… Man, these people are intense.

I glance to Elena. And my eyes fall to her tattooed hand once more. All this time, and I thought she just liked the way it looked. I had no idea that it had a purpose.

My eyes slide over to Roman. His rose is tattooed to the right side of his neck, taking up a large portion of the area. No surprise, his rose is black. Just like his soul.

“Here, I guess,” I say, indicating my left forearm. “Just do whatever you want. Make it pretty?”

Warren just nods. And I watch in slight horror as he takes a knife and makes a small cut into the tip of his left thumb. He squeezes the blood that bubbles there into the cartridge. And he doesn’t wait as he sets to my ink.

I grimace when the pain first bites into my skin.

“Happy?” Elena asks, annoyance dripping from her tone.

“Ask me again in six weeks,” Roman says as he pushes himself off the wall and walks out the door we came in through.

“He’s really not that bad,” Warren says. His tone is still too quiet, too timid.

“Don’t try to defend your boss, just because he can still hear you,” Elena says. Her words are venomous, but they’re not aimed at Warren.

From outside, I hear a hissing growl.

Vampire hearing.

Warren actually smiles, and it’s kind of endearing.

“You told me he was going to be intense,” I say, looking up at Elena. “You didn’t say he was going to be a dick.”

“No, I thought I told you he was an ass,” she says, annoyance still on her face.

“You didn’t,” I confirm.

She makes a noise of affirmation and shrugs. “He’s definitely both.”

Just then, the door opens once more, and the sharpest looking woman I’ve ever seen steps inside.




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