InkintheBlood

  Ink in the Blood

  Chandra Ryan

  Prequel to Bond Betrayed

  Izzy has lived between two worlds her entire life—one filled with magic and darkness, the other populated by mundane humans. She was born into the magical world of the Community. But sexy, forbidden DEA agent Jacob belongs to the other. He has no idea her world even exists.

  But that doesn’t mean he hasn’t noticed her. They’ve worked together for the past six months, attempting to bring down her drug-dealing half brother while driving each other crazy with pent-up desire. But now that it’s time to say goodbye, they both find it impossible to let go.

  After one passionate night together Izzy realizes her mistake. She can’t bring him into her world. She has to end things before she gets too attached. When he refuses to leave, she must find a way to guide him through the darkness.

  Inside Scoop: In this scorching urban fantasy, ink is thicker than blood.

  A Romantica® paranormal erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave

  Ink in the Blood

  Chandra Ryan

  Chapter One

  Isabella looked up at the dark, gloomy night sky and grimaced. Most of the time she saw her abilities as a curse but tonight they were a blessing. She shifted her eyes so there was only a sliver of green iris encircling her large, black pupils. It wasn’t much but at least she could see what she was walking into now.

  “We’re in position.” The voice from the earbud cut into her thoughts and reminded her why she was here. It was kind of unsettling to have the disembodied voice talking to her, but she forced herself not to look around for the Drug Enforcement Administration agents. It wouldn’t matter even if she did. She wouldn’t be able to find them. They always managed to blend in. There would be no sign of them in the nearly deserted park.

  Her heels clicked on the sidewalk as she followed the concrete ribbon that cut through the manicured grass. At the top of the hill, it branched. One path continued straight but she needed the path that veered off to the left. It was only after she took the turn that she could finally see Middle Bridge. Nestled in a valley between hills, it loomed ahead of her as a dark, inky shadow against the gray backdrop of the park. In the spring there would be a river flowing under it. But the summer’s heat had dried it up months ago, leaving nothing but a dusty bed.

  That was her destination for the evening. More accurately, it was the sporadic bazaar held on the dried bed that interested her. There, a soul could find just about any drug or weapon her heart desired.

  As she stepped off the sidewalk, her heel slid on some loose dirt and she wished she’d worn sneakers. Not that they would’ve matched her micro skirt and cropped t-shirt, but they would’ve made walking easier.

  And running, a small voice in the back of her mind whispered.

  Pushing the thought away, she forced herself to stand straight as she continued toward the bridge. She felt completely alone in the dark even though she could hear the distant buzz of conversation drifting through the air.

  “I think you’ve wandered off the path.”

  The man’s voice behind her made her jump even as she felt the spark and knew it was another member of the Community who’d approached her. They were the same race and that would make this a lot easier.

  Turning to face him, she smiled stiffly as if insulted by the delay. He was tall and burly, every inch of exposed skin covered in the ink of family and alliances, but she refused to let the sentry intimidate her. “I’m not exactly out for an evening stroll.”

  “Then why are you out?”

  She thought she picked up the hint of pipe smoke tickling the air around them. It smelled like the kind of smoke that tended to make a person more paranoid. “I need to purchase a couple of things.”

  His eyes narrowed as he studied her. “What kind of things?”

  “Hard to find things.” She nodded to the bridge as she said the words.

  “I haven’t seen you around here before.”

  This was where a human sentry would have proved difficult.

  “Really?” She locked eyes with him as she changed her eye color to pale, milky-white and her hair from red to jet-black. She only gave him a second to adjust to her new face before lengthening her hair and changing her skin tone to a pale-brown. “Maybe there’s a reason for that.” She shifted back to her original form before he had a chance to reply.

  “So you shift.” He glanced down at her bare forearms, looking for her tattoos. “But I don’t see any ink.”

  It was true. At her age she should have several tattoos identifying her alliances and she should be willing to show them. But her years with her father had taught her how to play the part of the spoiled princess and she was counting on that to get her out of her current jam. “I don’t like needles,” she said with a toss of her hair.

  “I need some sort of ID before I can let you through.”

  She huffed angrily and put on her best entitled expression. “I’m Isabella Rathe, as in Dominik Rathe’s daughter. I’m sure his name rings a bell.”

  She hoped he focused more on her last name than on her first. If not, he might be suspicious of her long absence. Fortunately, with all the Rathe spawn running around, it was a pretty safe bet the sentry wouldn’t recognize any particular one.

  “You should at least have a crow, then.” He pointed to her forearm where her father’s family mark should be.

  “I told you, I don’t like needles.” She turned away from him defiantly. “But honestly, do you think there’s a soul out there stupid enough to lie about being a Rathe?”

  He studied her carefully, his eyes sweeping over the length of her body. “That would be really stupid. But it’d also be really stupid for me to let you by on nothing but your word.”

  “Jesus. Here,” she cried, holding out her driver’s license. She knew that as ID it wasn’t ideal, but it should still be sufficient. Especially when faced with the temper tantrum she was throwing. “It’s a good thing my father is out of the country or I’d make sure he talked to you about your manners.”

  He looked at her license for a moment then shrugged as he handed it back. “Okay, I’ll let you through. But you should get over your fear of needles or come with someone willing to vouch for you next time.”

  “I’ll consider it.”

  Walking past him, she nearly smiled at the convenient lie. She wasn’t afraid of needles. Anyone who knew her track record with rehab would know that. And she did have a tattoo. A very simple sunset rested on her upper arm, but she couldn’t show it here. The last thing she needed was a blood feud in the middle of her brother’s territory.

  Half brother, she corrected quickly. She and Alex had the same father but different mothers. Not that it really made a difference. Both women had met with the same fate.

  Thinking about her mother’s death, she laughed bitterly at the irony. She’d cursed her mother’s decision when she’d been a child. And she’d cursed the agency that’d failed to protect her. But now she was following in the woman’s footsteps. She was doing the exact thing that had gotten her mother killed. Not only was she going after a powerful member of the Community, but Izzy had also trusted her protection to the same government bureaucracy responsible for failing her mother.

  That’s where the similarities stopped, however. She didn’t have children to worry about. No one would be thrown into foster care if she died. And there’d be no small child left crying, alone and afraid of the dark, if she didn’t return.

  A shiver of dread made its way up her spine at the thought. Even after all this time, the memories were still vivid. And they were still painful. At least, the memories before she’d started using the drug dust were. The ones after were vague at best. But what she could remember made he
r childhood nightmares look like daydreams.

  Closing her eyes tightly, she prayed to forget. But it was a prayer destined to go unanswered. There was no way to forget her past. Especially on nights like tonight. Nights where she openly courted it.

  She forced herself to continue walking as she pushed the memories to the back of her mind. Her past didn’t matter. Tonight was about the future. Or, at least, that’s what she kept telling herself.

  She was almost to the bridge when she finally began to make out the dim, bluish glow of the torchlight. The centuries-old lanterns were the only light used because their soft illumination was difficult to see from a distance and they didn’t damage any of the offered merchandise, which could be delicate in nature.

  As she thought about the merchandise, she began to wonder what the DEA would do with some of the more temperamental items if they fell into the agency’s hands. It would be difficult for them to sort and store a lot of what was sold here. But she reminded herself that was somebody else’s problem, not hers. She already had enough to deal with, without borrowing trouble. Not only was she supposed to find Elliot Minshouse but, if she were lucky, she’d be coming face-to-face with Alex again.

  She’d have loved the chance to bump into her father as well. But that didn’t seem fated to happen tonight. She’d have to make do with what she could get. And she planned on doing more than making do. She was going to savor every moment.

  Yes, she’d be happy to turn in the brother who’d introduced her to drugs. The fantasy was clear in her mind, right down to the look on his face as the agents slipped the cuffs on his wrists. She couldn’t wait for the moment he realized she’d been the one to set him up. It was all that she’d wanted for the past seven years.

  “Remember, nobody moves until she’s found Minshouse.” The crisp voice from the earbud broke into her thoughts and burst her bubble of happiness.

  Unfortunately the DEA didn’t share her hunger for Alex’s arrest. They’d arrest him if he were in the middle of the bust. And they’d told her they had enough to make the charges stick this time. But they’d been quick to make it clear that Elliot was the primary target tonight. They were convinced his ties to terrorist organizations far outweighed whatever crimes Alex had committed. They were wrong.

  Not that she’d told them that. She’d nodded sternly at the orders. But it’d been a lie. She wasn’t going to let her half brother slip through her fingertips just to make the agency happy. No, if Alex were here tonight, she’d go after him. Orders be damned.

  Reaching the structure, she braced herself for her reentry into the underworld of society. She took one last deep breath and then plunged into the milling crowds packed under the graffitied shelter of the bridge.

  The bazaar was actually a well-organized event, for what it was. The contraband was divided into three sections—weapons, drugs and paraphernalia. But she was only interested in the drugs. That’s where Elliot and Alex were bound to be.

  As she walked through the crowd, she glanced at the booths of weapons. There were powders, potions, blades, handguns and assault rifles but nothing called to her. Which was probably for the best—given the circumstances.

  She’d almost made it to the next section when a familiar face grabbed her attention. He was wearing tight jeans and a black t-shirt instead of the suit that she’d grown accustomed to seeing him in, but there was no mistaking his smile. Or his lean, muscular physique.

  As if hearing her thoughts, he looked up. His gaze caught hers for a second before he began making his way toward her.

  “Isabella.”

  “A—” Realizing she was about to call him Agent Phinney, she stopped and shook her head to clear it. “Um, Jacob. This is a surprise.” She couldn’t help but wonder how he’d gotten past the guards.

  He smiled rakishly as he ran his fingers through his short black hair. It was a gesture she’d become endeared to over the past six months. “I know, small world.”

  “What are you doing here?” She’d expected to see him, but not until the bust had gone down. And, try as she might, she couldn’t think of a single good reason for him to be at the bazaar. Admittedly it was difficult for her to think of anything at all given his proximity. He was so close she could smell the spicy mint of his shampoo and her arm would brush against his chest if she swayed ever so slightly.

  “I’m on a date.”

  The words snapped her out of her haze. He didn’t seem to notice though. He was too busy staring at the voluptuous redhead several people ahead of them whose singed fingertips hinted at fire manipulation.

  That explained security. With someone like her as a date, they’d have let him through, no questions asked.

  “Funny, she isn’t what I’d imagined as your type.” Izzy realized that he could never be hers, not really, but she didn’t like the idea of him being with someone else. Especially when that someone could manipulate fire. In her experience, pyros were one of the more dangerous types. They tended to run hot in all things—including their emotions. “She looks kind of dangerous.”

  “Although I do go for the dangerous type,” he whispered with a playful wink, “you’re right. She just happened to be in the right place at the right time—here.”

  Hearing his words, a possible reason for his presence became painfully clear. “Wait. Are you checking up on me?”

  He looked genuinely hurt. “I thought you knew me better than that. I’m here as backup, nothing more,” he whispered softly.

  He’s human, he’s human, he’s human… The warning echoed softly in the recesses of her mind. But as his fingers tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear, it faded into silence.

  “I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to you on my watch,” he said.

  Her heart raced at the tenderness of the touch and the warmth of his breath against her cheek. Her fingers itched to reach out to him, to touch him, but she resisted. “Well, then, I’m sure I’m in good hands.”

  His eyes sparkled and his lips twitched as if poised for a reply, but fortunately his date had made her purchase and was calling his name. It was the distraction Izzy needed to slip away unnoticed, which she was all too happy to do. She was having a hard enough time thinking straight without adding a racing heart and a desire-fogged mind to the mix.

  Once she’d slipped out of sight, she took a deep, cleansing breath and continued down the path. She felt a momentary pang of guilt as she thought about his date. She should have warned him. But she quickly justified her silence with his ignorance. How could she tell him his date was a pyro? How could she have explained their magic if he, like most humans, refused to believe magic even existed? True, she’d never tried to explain it to him. But she didn’t have delusions where humans were concerned. Not anymore.

  She walked past the depressants and hallucinogens as she made her way to the narcotics. She did her best to ignore the drugs despite their siren song, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t feel their pull. Her focus had to be on the crowds though. Minshouse would be with the other dealers. He wouldn’t be walking among the masses. But there was a chance Alex might be.

  When she reached the booths of heroin, she searched the shadows where the bridge’s rafters met the river’s bank. She could see the outline of the temporary pavilions that housed the dealers, but that was all she could make out. Sighing, she scanned the crowds streaming past her for Alex one last time before giving up. He didn’t appear to be shopping tonight. She’d just have to hope he was with the dealers.

  She shook her head softly as she contemplated what she was about to do. But knowing she couldn’t put it off any longer, she started trekking up to the top of the steep bank. There were no sentries or guards posted here. It was assumed she knew what she was doing, approaching the dealers. If you were going to venture through the gates of hell, you’d better know the rules and the consequences of breaking them.

  When she made it to the top, she found herself walking amongst the who’s who in the local drug
world. Old memories flooded her and made her nauseated, but she did her best to ignore the sensation. She’d told the agents that she could do this and she would. They were counting on her. More specifically, Jacob was counting on her. And she didn’t want to let him down. Turning, she glanced down the opposite bank but she still didn’t see Minshouse or Alex.

  What if tonight proved to be nothing more than a waste of time? The question ate at her. If she couldn’t find Elliot, she’d have to start all over again. She’d been pumping informants for details for six months. It was a process she didn’t care to repeat.

  Although, it would give me more time with Agent Phinney. And she would love more time with him. But before the thought could take hold, she forced herself to dismiss it so she could stay focused on her search. She would not moon over some human who was a DEA agent to boot.

  Finally, after she’d walked past the fourth pavilion, she spotted Minshouse. He was standing in a small group of people and was so engrossed in his conversation that he didn’t even notice her walking toward them. Her heart beat faster as she made her way over to the group, but she kept her smile firmly in place. She had to appear completely in control.

  “Izzy, darling, is that you?” one of the men called as he stepped toward her.

  “Vincent.” She hoped that the dread bubbling in her stomach couldn’t be heard in in her voice. She didn’t have fond memories of the man. He was more of a money launderer than a dealer. And, judging by his sleek designer suit and the thick ropes of gold that encircled his neck, it looked as if business had been good to him.

  “Long time no see,” he said.

  “Rehab, you know how it goes.” She looked around the group and was instantly disappointed that Alex wasn’t among them.

  “Yes I do, poor thing. So what brings you down to the river tonight?” He wrapped his arm around her waist as he spoke, bringing her close enough to smell the stench of overpowering cologne mixed with stale cigar smoke. “Are you shopping for something to end your streak of sobriety?”