Connor looked at me with shock. "You made a deal with a sorcerer? Those never end well."
He wasn't telling me anything I hadn't guessed.
"So far, he's left me alone."
At least for the most part. There had been one issue where he'd forced me to pluck out my own eye, but I liked to think we'd moved past that.
"Let me see it," Connor ordered, holding out his hand.
I narrowed my eyes at that imperious hand, the desire to be stubborn simply because I could, warring with the knowledge that Connor could help. He had a range of experience that I did not.
That didn't make being told what to do any easier. It was akin to having a sandblaster aimed at my back—uncomfortable and liable to impart a desire for someone else's blood.
"Say please," I ordered.
Connor started to speak, but closed his mouth and studied me.
I knew my expression was guarded. Inara watched carefully from the sidelines.
This was a test. For us to work together with any level of success, he had to know how far he could push before I shoved back.
The future of our relationship depended entirely on the next words out of his mouth.
In this, he proved wiser than our sire. Whether it was because of his history of having his own choices taken away one too many times, he didn't reach for my arm.
Instead, he looked at me with infinite patience. "Please let me see. I can't help if I don't know what I'm dealing with."
When I still didn't move, his expression fell. "If I make you uncomfortable, I can go."
With only a small grumble, I pushed up my sleeve and offered him my forearm.
Trust had to start somewhere. Connor had yet to do anything to truly deserve my suspicion.
His smile was grateful as he bent over the mark on my forearm. Two of them to be exact.
To a human, they would look like a series of tattoos. The predominant image was an oak tree, its branches heavy with leaves, the roots extending to the inner crook of my arm. From behind the tree, a stylized lion glared, threads of metallic purple woven into his mane and face.
Connor took my wrist, tilting my arm so he could get a better look.
"There are three marks," Connor observed, not looking up.
"What?" Inara demanded before I could.
Confused and more than a little worried, I watched as Connor traced the tree and then the lion. Last he touched a pair of black birds perched in the canopy of the tree that I'd missed until now.
"That's new," I said.
Inara landed on my wrist, her eyes narrowed as she glared down at the birds like they'd somehow managed to steal a kill from her.
"Son of a troll's turd, I can't believe this," she swore.
Neither could I.
She darted to my shoulder, grabbing my ear and twisting. "Where did you get this?"
I snarled. "I don't know any more about this than you."
I hadn't even known there was a third mark until Connor pointed it out.
