this thing looks like?”
“Nope. But I figure if it has a switch and a bulb, it’s a candidate.”
“Sounds good to me.”
She reached into the back of the drawer for a black rectangle and pulled it out. It had a long bulb that covered one side and a switch on the other. For a second, she couldn’t move. In the next, she couldn’t breathe. A fine trembling shook her fingers. Sweat broke out on her brow. This could be it. She flipped the switch. The small light cast a purple glow. She pulled off a glove with her teeth. Her nails glowed a dramatic white. She turned her hand over, ran the light over her palm. The calluses were whiter than the rest, but nothing untoward jumped out and said notice me .
“Miri?”
She tugged off her other glove. It hit the floor with a soft plop. It had to be here. The clue had to be here. In a flurry of dread and excitement, she ran the light over her hand—back, front, and then back again. Nothing. Nothing at all. A sob broke past her lips. A second tried to follow. She bit it back. It had to be here. Tattooing the information on her in glow-in-the-dark ink was the only logical thing, based on what she knew of the equipment they had. She didn’t look at Jace as he covered her trembling hands. “It’s not on my hands.”
JACE had never heard a calm so badly faked. Miri stood there, all five foot six inches of terrified woman, clutching her pride like it was her last defense. And maybe it was. He couldn’t imagine all she’d been through in the last year, but he’d heard enough from Raisa, and seen enough, to know that hell didn’t begin to cover it. He reached to take the light. “He wouldn’t have put it any place obvious.”
She didn’t let go. “He might not have put it anywhere at all.”
He could see the flick of her lashes, smell her anxiety. He kept his voice as even as hers. “I think he did.”
“What makes you so sure?”
“Cable TV.”
She just stared at him.
“I’ve taken to watching some of the new shows. As soon as you mentioned the tattooing equipment it clicked.”
“It clicked?” What clicked?
Lint glowed like magic in the dark strands of her hair. He started at the crown, looking for a pattern to fluoresce on her scalp. “Hmm.”
“What? Did you find it?”
“No, but there are some areas of drier scalp here.”
Her hand snapped back. “Don’t you dare tell me I have dandruff.”
He let her hand connect with his chest. He’d never met a woman who needed to whale on something as much as Miri. She kept so much anger packed so deep, it was a wonder she didn’t explode. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Jace?”
“No, you don’t have dandruff.”
“That isn’t what I was going to ask.”
He tilted her head to the side. It wasn’t easy, with her trying to look at him to assure herself he was telling the truth. She yanked her hand back, bumping his wrist. The light dropped. Jace grabbed for it and caught it. As he did his sleeve caught on her hair. She yelped and grabbed the strands. A flash of luminescence caught his eyes.
“Hold still.”
She froze, not moving, not blinking, not even breathing, her anticipation a half beat behind his. For all his big words, he hadn’t really been sure this was the answer, but he’d hoped. Harder than he’d let on, putting his faith in the logic of his deduction. And a clue from the cable TV show featuring tattoo artists and the safety of glow-in-the-dark tattoos. Not that he thought Miri’s safety was of primary importance to anyone at the Sanctuary, but tattooing someone with glow-in-the-dark ink would make sense if one had limited time and resources and didn’t want to leave a trace that could be tapped in her mind. He pressed Miri’s right ear back and brought the lamp up and stared.
“Well, hell.”
She slumped against the table. “It’s not there?”
“It’s there.”
A house number and street, all neatly done in tiny letters on the back of her ear, close to her
“Nope. But I figure if it has a switch and a bulb, it’s a candidate.”
“Sounds good to me.”
She reached into the back of the drawer for a black rectangle and pulled it out. It had a long bulb that covered one side and a switch on the other. For a second, she couldn’t move. In the next, she couldn’t breathe. A fine trembling shook her fingers. Sweat broke out on her brow. This could be it. She flipped the switch. The small light cast a purple glow. She pulled off a glove with her teeth. Her nails glowed a dramatic white. She turned her hand over, ran the light over her palm. The calluses were whiter than the rest, but nothing untoward jumped out and said notice me .
“Miri?”
She tugged off her other glove. It hit the floor with a soft plop. It had to be here. The clue had to be here. In a flurry of dread and excitement, she ran the light over her hand—back, front, and then back again. Nothing. Nothing at all. A sob broke past her lips. A second tried to follow. She bit it back. It had to be here. Tattooing the information on her in glow-in-the-dark ink was the only logical thing, based on what she knew of the equipment they had. She didn’t look at Jace as he covered her trembling hands. “It’s not on my hands.”
JACE had never heard a calm so badly faked. Miri stood there, all five foot six inches of terrified woman, clutching her pride like it was her last defense. And maybe it was. He couldn’t imagine all she’d been through in the last year, but he’d heard enough from Raisa, and seen enough, to know that hell didn’t begin to cover it. He reached to take the light. “He wouldn’t have put it any place obvious.”
She didn’t let go. “He might not have put it anywhere at all.”
He could see the flick of her lashes, smell her anxiety. He kept his voice as even as hers. “I think he did.”
“What makes you so sure?”
“Cable TV.”
She just stared at him.
“I’ve taken to watching some of the new shows. As soon as you mentioned the tattooing equipment it clicked.”
“It clicked?” What clicked?
Lint glowed like magic in the dark strands of her hair. He started at the crown, looking for a pattern to fluoresce on her scalp. “Hmm.”
“What? Did you find it?”
“No, but there are some areas of drier scalp here.”
Her hand snapped back. “Don’t you dare tell me I have dandruff.”
He let her hand connect with his chest. He’d never met a woman who needed to whale on something as much as Miri. She kept so much anger packed so deep, it was a wonder she didn’t explode. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Jace?”
“No, you don’t have dandruff.”
“That isn’t what I was going to ask.”
He tilted her head to the side. It wasn’t easy, with her trying to look at him to assure herself he was telling the truth. She yanked her hand back, bumping his wrist. The light dropped. Jace grabbed for it and caught it. As he did his sleeve caught on her hair. She yelped and grabbed the strands. A flash of luminescence caught his eyes.
“Hold still.”
She froze, not moving, not blinking, not even breathing, her anticipation a half beat behind his. For all his big words, he hadn’t really been sure this was the answer, but he’d hoped. Harder than he’d let on, putting his faith in the logic of his deduction. And a clue from the cable TV show featuring tattoo artists and the safety of glow-in-the-dark tattoos. Not that he thought Miri’s safety was of primary importance to anyone at the Sanctuary, but tattooing someone with glow-in-the-dark ink would make sense if one had limited time and resources and didn’t want to leave a trace that could be tapped in her mind. He pressed Miri’s right ear back and brought the lamp up and stared.
“Well, hell.”
She slumped against the table. “It’s not there?”
“It’s there.”
A house number and street, all neatly done in tiny letters on the back of her ear, close to her
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