"I should have kept up with my ambidexterity," Yelena complained, but let him take the pen from her.
Following some unknown urge, Valentine kissed the inside of her wrist before letting her hand go. Her cheeks went pink, and his heart stuttered.
"Let me help," he said, quickly looking away before he got distracted and tried to pounce on her again.
Yelena pulled three of his sketches toward her and started folding different sides. "You have most of it, but it's spread out. Look, like this." She put the folded pieces of paper together, and the new sigil jumped out at him.
"Oh, gods, this is what happens when I am distracted. Okay, let me start, and you tell me where to add your bits to make sure the magic connects your nerves properly," he said, excitement rushing through him like it always did when he could finally see a magical solution to a problem.
An hour later, they had cleared off the coffee table, and Valentine set out his inks, needles, and guns. The design sat in front of him, and there wasn't anything he could see that needed adjusting.
Yelena sat on the opposite side of the table and had her arm resting on a cloth so they wouldn't get blood and ink everywhere.
"Are you sure you want to do this tonight? Your arm will probably still be tender from such a traumatic wound," Valentine said.
The look Yelena gave him made his balls shrivel. "Remember what I said the other evening about how I know what my body is capable of?" she said.
Valentine sighed. "I don't like the idea of hurting you."
"I know, and you won't. I'm so full of healing potions right now that the biggest thing you need to consider is how my body is going to try to fix me as you tattoo," Yelena said. She drank some more of the water he had set out for her. "I'm better than fine, Val. Please, just do it. If you were me, wouldn't you want to be able to use your magic straight away?"
Valentine shivered. "Yes. I would be worse than you about it, if I'm being honest. Although you didn't seem to have any issue throwing me out of the room the other night."
Yelena laughed, deceptively sweet. "That was brute strength and annoyance, not precision. There's a difference, as you well know. Now, are we doing this or not?"
"We are. Tell me if you need a break. I can get a bit lost when I'm tattooing, so if I go quiet, you know why." Valentine picked up his marker and lifted her arm so it was positioned upright. "You could tell me about what kind of dragon you are, and how you can use ice magic?"
"Help me be able to access my magic, and I'll show you," she said with a sly little smile.
"I don't think I like how easily you can manipulate me," he said and started to draw over her soft skin.
"Don't make it so easy then," Yelena replied. "It's better if I show you anyway. It has the bonus of getting us out of the city as well."
"Now you are sweetening the deal. Keep doing that, and I won't mind being manipulated at all." Valentine sketched the rest of the sigil on her arm. The scar that cut across it made his heart ache. "I'm never going to be able to make this up to you. I don't want to fight about it—I understand your reasoning—but I wish the price hadn't been so high."
"You're a sorcerer, Valentine. You know better than most that all magic comes with a price."
"This wasn't magic, baby girl. This was torture," he pointed out.
"Fighting the fate that I saw in the vision was magic. This is the price. I knew what would happen. I paid it willingly," Yelena replied, her voice calm. Far too calm.
Valentine didn't want to fight. "That vision you had must have been truly horrific."
"You said you had one of your mother dying? You know the pain of that. Now imagine seeing everyone you have ever knownand loved dead. I saw you in Midir's thrall. There was no worse future I could imagine than that," Yelena replied.
Valentine stroked a thumb over her forearm. "I'm sorry. I'm being a bastard. I just..."
"You don't think your life was worth my hand? Because to me, it is," Yelena said, and it was like a kick to his guts that she would care about him after how he had treated her. She nodded to the gun he had prepped. "Get on with, Valentine, before we start bitching at each other."
Valentine picked up the gun. She was right. She always was. It would have been annoying if he didn't like her so much. "Okay, I'm going to start. It might give you a little shock first...and you don't care. Right."
Valentine shook out his hands and cracked his neck. His magic thrummed in his fingertips, needing to get out. He dipped the needles into the ink and got to work.
19
The light, stinging buzz of the tattoo gun sent shivers all over Yelena's skin. Valentine had rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, showing off his own tattoos on his strong forearms.
Yelena had nowhere else to look but at him, and she unashamedly admired the elegantly shaped hands and ink-stained fingers. There was a slight crease in his brow, and faint lines around his eyes. The tips of her fingers itched to stroke his nose, his cheeks, his lips.
