He pauses for a beat, then carefully adds, “It’s likely tied to your ability to shift. But I’m guessing, Aurora. No one wrote this part down. Or if they did, it’s buried somewhere we haven’t dug yet.
“Underborne and erevald markings are more consistent. Easier to trace. But yours? Yours feels older. Rarer.”
I blink at him. “Then why didn’t my mom have one?”
He exhales slowly. “Maybe she did. You didn’t remember Louie, either. And Ellie … she obviously knew powerful wrakhs. It’s possible someone helped her hide it.”
I swallow hard. My mom was really good at keeping secrets. Sometimes I wonder if I even knew her at all.
The thought stings, and I immediately hate myself for it.
“And the work itself?” Ezra says as he leans in closer. “I’d guess it’s Pin and Thread.”
“Who?”
“Underborne twins. Very old. Tattooists. They run a place called Stitch.”
He gives a dry little laugh, like he’s not sure whether to admire them or strangle them.
“Stitch shows up when it wants to. It’s a strange place. Vending machines. Forgotten hallways. The backs of shops no one remembers entering. It finds who it needs, then disappears.”
The name tickles something in the back of my mind.
Stitch.
A crooked sign. A door that shouldn’t have been there.
But the thought slips away before I can grab it.
“They’ve likely been watching your bloodline since Lucifer and Lilith’s daughter came to Earth,” Ezra adds. “They only mark those with lineage worth remembering. And yours?”
His knuckles run slowly down my arm.
“Yours is unforgettable.” His brow furrows slightly. “Does this displease you?”
I’ve thought about getting a tattoo before, but the pain always kept me away—and I’ve always been too chickenshit to commit.
Now I’ve got a massive back piece courtesy of ancient underborne twins who apparently don’t believe in consent forms or subtlety … and no idea how to explain it to Eve. Or my dad.
“No. It doesn’t displease me, Ezra. I’m just trying to figure out how the hell I’m going to explain this to anyone. Can you use my phone to take a picture? I’ll look after the mirror.”
“Of course, Aurora. Whatever you wish.”
I lean forward, and Ezra snaps a quick picture before lying down and pulling me tight against him once more.
“I licked the blood of that evil guy off you. Didn’t I?”
The memory stands out. Probably because it happened before everything changed.
“You did, little goddess. And you liked it. A lot. Does that bother you?”
“I know it should. But it doesn’t. It tasted so … good.” I pause, tilting my head as the thought clicks into place. “But yours didn’t taste like that when I cut you open.”
I go quiet, the question hanging in the space between us.
“Besides, after what happened at The Cardinal the other night, enjoying the taste of blood isn’t my biggest concern.”
“What happened at The Cardinal, Aurora?” Ezra’s entire body tenses while he waits for my answer.
