Chapter 60
SIXTY
ONE MONTH LATER
“Sit still,” Trina snaps at me. “God, for a tattoo artist, you’re the worst at sitting for them.”
“It tickles!” I whine.
“Oh well! I’m almost done.”
Crystal and Maverick sit across from me, her legs thrown over his lap, as they watch Trina ink imprints of their teeth into bare spots of skin on my throat—one on each side.
I don’t feel less than for not being able to be bitten in anymore, but I still wanted something that showed I was theirs, especially since both of them already have tattoos that I did decorating their bodies.
I wanted everyone to know that I am claimed by the two beautiful people I can’t take my eyes off of.
I distract myself from the sensation of the needle by staring at the TV. A pretty Asian woman in a red suit fills the screen.
“Hey, that’s Puck’s cousin!” Crystal remarks.
“Oh, cool. Let me turn it up.” Maverick hops up a few times to raise the volume on the television.
Omega births are at an all-time low since The Perfect Omega, Nora Sloane, shared her struggles and trauma with us three years ago. With a more rigid implementation of Design rules, fewer Omegas are being born than ever.
Design Clinic proponents theorize that this is directly correlated with the recent rash of Omega abductions. Omegas are getting ripped off the streets at alarming rates, and if they return, they seem to have no memory of what happened to them while they were gone.
Betas are also disappearing, though at a slower rate, and we have no reports of any of them returning. This issue has personally affected Doctor Icarus Knight, a research physician at Design Clinic.
“Six weeks ago, my sister, Athena Valentine, went missing. We have no leads on her whereabouts. I am begging everyone to take precautions when they are out alone. If you have seen my sister, please report it to the Lunarcrest PD immediately. She is loved, and she is missed.”
This devastating story is not the only one we’ve heard in recent weeks. It begs the question: Where are all these people going? And what is the goal of taking them?
For Lunarcrest1, I’m Rebecca Kahn.
Crystal has her hand over her mouth, and Maverick stares unblinking at the TV when Rebecca finishes her segment. I know it’s hitting her hard after what happened to Atlas.
What is going on in our city?
“That’s the doctor you work with, right?” Maverick asks her quietly. “His sister is missing?”
“He never said anything, but I haven’t seen him much.” She scrubs her hands down her face. “This has to stop. We have to do something.”
“We are. Pack Lupine is.” Maverick’s voice is firm as he kisses our Omega. “We’ll call them and see how we can help.”
“There!” Trina says, sitting back and wiping the tattoo, oblivious to what happened between Mav and our Omega. “Done.”
She hands me a mirror, and I turn my head side to side to see my new art. It’s red around the edges, but the white ink she used for the imprints will look so good once it heals. “I love it,” I tell her before turning to my partners. “Do you two like it?”
Both of them shake off the newscast’s melancholy and turn to admire my new ink.
“Obsessed is a better work for it,” Maverick says, hopping up and running to me. He captures my lips with his in a way that is so casual and normal that it makes my stomach flip.
Crystal slides up beside me and places a gentle kiss on my collarbone. “Agreed. They’re perfect.”
“It’s your turn,” I tell her, grabbing her shoulders and spinning her around.
“My turn? Why?”
“I have a mural to finish.”
* * *
Three hours later, I finish shading a final snake while Crystal chews on cherry candy. She’s wearing an eye mask, saying she didn’t want to see it until I was totally done. Maverick saw the design and kissed me before leaving, saying this was my moment with Crystal and he’d see us at home.
I set down the tattoo gun.
“Before you look,” I tell her quietly, “I want to tell you a story.” I take my gloves off and grasp her hands.
“There was once a woman who was beautiful and kind. She had no ill intentions and was loved by many. But a man became obsessed with her and wanted her for himself. He took her and tried to break her.”
She clutches my hand tightly, her knuckles turning white.
“There are a few ways the story goes from here, so I’ll tell you the one I like the most. The woman dragged herself to her friend, hurting and worried she’d never be whole again, and begged for help. So her friend transformed her, giving her the power to protect herself from the men who would hurt her.”
I reach forward and slip her blindfold off, not taking my eyes off of her as she looks down at her leg. “Medusa was misunderstood, you know? Poseidon coveted her, and some will say the Goddess Athena cursed her to be hideous and to turn men to stone so she’d always be lonely, blaming her for Poseidon’s actions, but I like to think Athena was looking out for her. You see, Medusa was a servant of Athena, so when she lay before Athena in so much pain, full of fear of what had been done to her, Athena gave Medusa a way to protect herself.
“She made Medusa feared. Powerful. Deadly. Poseidon didn’t break her. Sure, she came out of their encounter different, changed, but she was still perfect.”
Crystal’s quiet tears have become heavy sobs as she hovers her fingers over the beautiful and fierce face I’ve tattooed on her thigh. New snakes have joined the ones I’ve done over the past four years, and a few flowers were added to tie it all together into a portrait of a powerful Gorgon.
“Two years ago, I drew this face. I didn’t know why, but I couldn’t get Medusa’s story out of my head while I tattooed you. I knew one day, when you were ready to turn whatever hurt you to stone, I’d give her to you.”
Crystal slips off the table and climbs onto my lap, burying her face in my chest. Her hot, wet tears soak into my shirt as I stroke her back. I can’t say how long she cries for, only that I hold her through all of it.
Eventually, the tears dry up, and she sits back, looking at her thigh. “She’s beautiful,” she whispers, lightly touching the tattoo wrap that covers it. “I can’t believe you’ve planned this for so long.”
She climbs to her feet and weaves her fingers through mine. I bend down to kiss her on the side of the head. “I’m glad you like it.”
“I love it, and I love you,” she says as she presses a kiss against my lips. “Now, how much do I owe you?”