And nearly scream.
My tattoos.
My tattoos are all gone.
I gasp, my hands running over breasts, my stomach, my arms, my thighs. Gone. All gone. The moon cycle, the sparrows, the ravens, Poe’s words, the ram, Pazuzu, all gone.
“Oh my god,” I cry out, hands to my mouth, not recognizing my body anymore. The fact that I am buck naked underneath Absolon doesn’t even matter.
“Come on,” he says tiredly. He gets to his feet, reaches down and grabs me by the forea
rms, lifting me up like I’m made of dust.
I stand unsteadily on my feet, and he lets go of me, reaching for a white nightgown hanging from the hook. “Put this on,” he says, slipping it over me. He’s not compelling me this time, it’s just that I don’t care anymore.
I stare numbly at my arms, horrified, in shock.
What other part of me is next to go?
My soul?
“Gone,” I whisper, tears in my ears. “All gone.”
“Any scars you have picked up during your life are gone, and that includes tattoos,” he says mildly. “Just the way it is.”
“Just the way it is?” I exclaim. “Those tattoos meant something to me!”
He gives me a dry look. “Yes, I’m sure that Nine Inch Nails tramp stamp on your lower back was filled with profound meaning.”
“Fuck you,” I snarl.
“Swearing at me isn’t going to make them come back. This is part of the change,” he says, sliding his hands in his pockets as he eyes me. “I told you I was once covered in them too. They probably had the same purpose as yours did.”
“Purpose?”
“I think it’s time I give you a tour of the house. We’re in the middle of the pause right now. Between the lust and the bloodlust. This is when you can start to learn.”
I put my face in my hands, shaking my head. “Nothing makes sense anymore.”
“I can see how it feels that way. Most vampires are aware of what they are from birth. They spend their first twenty-one years waiting for that special day. You, however, were lied to from day one. And not just by anyone. But by witches.”
Oh my god.
My hands drop away. “Witches?” I cry out.
I can’t deal with this now.
He puts his hand at my elbow and guides me toward the bathroom door, opening it. We step out into the bedroom, lit with scented candles. The curtain is still down, but the window behind it is open, making the flames dance with the breeze. The bed is made, though there are still coils of rope at each corner of the bed. Waiting for me, I guess.
He leads me over to the curtain, light glinting through the ends as it dances with the breeze, shooting up the room with beams of sunlight. It’s daytime. There’s a world outside. I hear cars and people and life, and it contrasts so savagely with the world that I’ve been living in for who knows how long.
“Your, shall we say, adoptive parents are witches,” Absolon explains, standing behind me and placing both hands on my shoulders. His hands are warm now, no longer cold, and they immediately make me relax, despite what he’s telling me. “And they recognized something in you, something that made them steal you away. If you were all vampire, they would have let you burn. If you were a half-breed with a regular human, I still think they’d do the same. But the mystery is, why didn’t they kill you? What was it about you that made them keep you around?”
“I don’t know,” I whisper.
“You do,” he says. “And please note that I just called your parents witches, and you didn’t even try to protest. You don’t even seem shocked. That says a lot. That says you knew about them deep down. And maybe now you’re realizing how they’ve kept you hidden from others this whole time. Others like me. Others like Atlas Poe.”
“How?”