Chapter 15 #2
I sailed to the back to get ready for the day.
Turning off the Wi-Fi would be cruel and unusual punishment, and I used it only as a last resort.
If I disabled my Wi-Fi, Edmund couldn’t function.
He’d be trapped within my walls, unable to communicate or do anything except be alone with his thoughts.
I’d never do such a thing, but I messed with him all the time because he could be really annoying.
Half an hour later, the coast was clear and I was out the door. No signs of vampires or shifters, or other mysterious threats. My car hadn’t exploded, and I wasn’t craving red meat as intensely as before.
Things seemed normal in a way they hadn’t for weeks now.
Which made me nervous for the other shoe to drop.
Marinka’s shop was located in a strip center sandwiched between a Middle Eastern food market and a vape shop.
The parking lot smelled like cumin and the sharp, artificial scent of banana vape cartridges.
I once asked Marinka why she didn’t move to a better location.
She gave me her typical annoyed look and said, “Cheap rent. Why move and pay twice as much?”
Sound logic, but the drive from the new house was getting annoying.
Before the move, seeing Marinka was a ten-minute trip both ways.
Now she was a half hour away. But she was the only one who could recharge the implant, and Mom had trusted her implicitly, which meant I had to as well.
We didn’t need to like each other for her to do the job.
Marinka’s place was a tattoo shop on the surface and catered to both magical and non-magical clientele. She had four other artists on staff who performed the mundane work. Marinka took her clients, including me, into the back of the studio through a cleverly concealed door only she could access.
As usual, the woman greeted me with a grunt and jerked her head to follow.
Marinka was a small, dark-skinned woman of indeterminate age.
She had short dark hair cut into a silky bob and eyes so dark they were almost black.
The odd thing about Marinka was she had no tattoos. At least none that I could see.
She always wore the same thing—a pair of wide-legged ankle pants, a tank top with a long cardigan, and a pair of thick brown boots. The colors of each changed from visit to visit, except for the boots, but I’d never seen her wear anything else.
Marinka slapped her hand against the door’s surface. It clicked open and she gestured for me to walk in.
“You leak,” she said, in her thick accent, snapping her fingers at me. “What happened?”
“Ran into some claws.” I took a seat in the chair and shrugged off my jacket.
Marinka grunted and pulled up a rolling chair. She flipped on a light and tugged on my arm, turning it to and fro.
She clicked her tongue and made some disapproving noises in her throat. “Bad damage. I fix but I cannot replace.”
I craned my head around. “You can’t replace it? Why not?”
“Not supposed to break!” she said simply, as if that explained everything.
“How long will the fix last?”
Marinka shrugged. “Until it break again.”
An exasperated laugh bubbled from me. “Marinka. Someone said this magic might attract the wrong kind of attention.”
“Someone smart. You leak and,” she lifted her fist and opened her fingers, “it go boom.”
“Boom?”
Marinka nodded gravely. “Boom.”
“Can you elaborate a little more?”
“Your mama should tell you. I cannot. She know best.”
“Mom isn’t here. You know this. There’s no one left.”
Marinka moved her chair and peered into my face, her dark eyes taking my measure. “You need people you can trust. Friends. A lover. Something.” She tapped my forearm. “They stop you from doing stupid things.”
When would people stop telling me that? “Having friends or lovers won’t help me with this.” And I’d never done anything as stupid as running into a sketchy alley before. Though, in my defense, how could I have known who’d be there?
“Yes, but they help you if everything go boom.”
“Marinka. Please. I’d rather nothing go boom.”
For a moment, I thought she’d refuse me again, but after a long moment, her lips thinned. “I fix first. Then I give you paper.”
“Paper?”
A single sharp nod. “Paper. Now hush. I fix.”
Better than nothing, I supposed. “Thank you.”
She thumped me on the elbow. “Shh.”
Two hours later, my elbow was no longer glowing, and I had a new stitch in my arm. I didn’t feel any different, but I never did when she messed with the implant.
Marinka wiped sweat from her brow. “Too much damage. You need more help than I can give.” She leaned over and scribbled something on a discarded piece of cardboard. “Go here. Tell them I sent you.”
I didn’t look at what she’d written for fear she’d change her mind and yank it away. Shoving it in my pocket, I rose. “Thank you.”
Marinka gave me a sharp nod. “It’s about time. Girls should not go so long not knowing who they are.”
Those were the most words she’d ever strung together for me. “Why did Mom do this?”
Marinka’s eyes softened. “Mamas protect. That’s why.”
I opened my mouth to say something else, but the moment was over. “Now you go.” She pointed to the door. “Out, out, out. Pay at the register. No card. No check. Cash only. Tips appreciated.”
I rolled my eyes. There was the Marinka I knew.
I was just about to slip out the door when Marinka spoke once more. “Alex.”
I turned. “Yes?”
“Find someone worthy to trust.” There was no hint of amusement in Marinka’s eyes. I don’t think the woman had ever smiled. But this felt different somehow. Marinka was serious. The thought twisted something inside me.
Not having friends or lovers wasn’t a conscious choice.
I didn’t shove people away from me when they tried to get close to me or anything, but I wasn’t the kind of person who attracted people who stuck around.
I was too difficult to get to know, or so I’d heard—not to mention the extreme suspicion I felt when someone asked too personal of a question or seemed too curious. Safety meant keeping secrets.
I could be sad about it, but I preferred to think I was worth getting to know. If someone couldn’t stick around and figure me out, was a friendship or a relationship with them worth it in the first place?
“I don’t see any of your friends around here,” I groused.
“Friends not for work. I go to Bunco and walking club. You go home and drink wine.”
I stared at her for a moment. “Fair,” I admitted.
“Now go away.”