Bette’s gaze narrowed on me. “What’s that on your arm? Can I see it?”
I held out my right to her, and she shook her head. “The other one.”
“Okay.” I wasn’t sure what she was up to, but the woman was a witch, so maybe this was a protection ritual of some kind. I lifted my left arm. “What’s going on?” I glanced at Doc. He shrugged. No help there.
She pushed back the sleeve of my shirt. “The double spiral,” she said curiously. “It’s pulsing with magic.”
I looked down at my tat. “It is?” The black ink was gone, and the continuous line had been replaced by a vibrant red. Funny enough, the lines were no longer raised ridges, and it had, thankfully, stopped itching.
Etta’s eyes were wide, and her mouth gaped open. “That’s…how is this possible.”
“I went to a tattoo artist in Springfield and got it done,” I explained. “It’s been a couple of weeks, but I don’t think the artist was a witch.”
“No,” Bette agreed. “But my granddaughter is.”
I looked at Etta. “Do you have any idea what she’s talking about, because I’m lost.”
Etta chewed her lower lip and nodded, then shook her head. She exposed her shoulder then turned so I could see her back. “I got the same one a month ago.”
I haven’t always been a believer in fate, but both of us getting the same tattoo was no coincidence. “Mine came to me in a dream. Lots and lots of dreams.”
“And I dreamed of mine,” she said. “Lots and lots of dreams.”
“I was running toward something.”
“I was running toward you,” she said. “I didn’t know at the time, but I know it now.”
The weight of her words stole my breath. She’d somehow connected us with her magic, even before she knew what she was capable of.
“That’s true love,” Bette said. “The thread, you see the way it winds clockwise, always moving outward than back inward. It’s the two of you and your path to each other.”
“It’s been itching like a mo-fo,” Etta quipped, then frowned. “Only, it’s not itching now.”
“Same,” I told her. “It was itching like a bad case of poison ivy earlier, but it’s fine now.”
“Interesting.” Bette tapped her chin. “I’m going to need one of you to leave the room to test a theory.”
“I’m not letting Etta out of my sight,” I said firmly. “Not again.”
Chav put her hand on my shoulder. “We’ll be in here with her.” She shooed me toward the bedroom. “Just go in there for a minute. Think of it as a science experiment.”
“Science was never my strong suit,” I grumbled as I stood up. I glanced down at Etta, and she nodded for me to go ahead.
“Fine,” I huffed, but I didn’t like it. Not one bit. As I slowly crossed the living room and went down a short hall to the bedroom, I could feel the tattoo beginning to tingle and itch again. “Something’s happening,” I called back to the others.
“Same!” Etta said. “My back has an itch that won’t scratch.”
“You can come back now,” Bette said.
I didn’t have to be told twice. I strode quickly back to the living room and plopped onto the couch next to Etta. She looked as relieved as I felt.
“Do you still have the itch?” Bette asked.
I frowned. “It’s gone.”
“Mine too,” Etta said.
“What’s this mean?” Doc asked.
