"Were you waiting for me?" she moved the books in her arms.
He shook his head with a small tilt to his lips that suggested a grin. She moved the books again and ran her teeth across her bottom lip and wondered if he'd seen her acting weird with her eyes closed.
"Would you like me to hold those?" he gestured to the books.
"No. I have to put some back, anyway." Blood rushed to her face. She went to the nearest shelf and displayed the books in front of her so she could see their covers.
"Journals?"
She nodded as her fingers slid over the covers. Taking her time, she opened them and tested the weight and strength of the paper and binding. Had to be leather, and they needed to last.
"You read cozy mysteries?" The amusement in his tone was unmistakable.
"No, that's for Mason. It's the same author she was reading, but it just came out this week," Maeve pulled a section of her hair and twirled it around her fingers and debated on which journal was best. She sensed Ander studying her, but stayed on task. "This one." She picked up the dark brown leather journal. It had the best binding, paper and overall durability.
She grabbed Mason's book and the other three random books she'd picked up in the new age section to put them in their proper places. Ander followed silently and browsed the new age books, close but not smothering her. Amused, he feigned interest in books that weren't likely accurate. "Goddesses, I didn't realize you were interested in those," she teased as she shelved the books.
Ander looked away sheepishly and shrugged. He put it back on the shelf.
"I wasn't judging you. If you want it, you should get it." she tried not to smile but couldn't help herself.
He picked the book back up and in a blur of motion now also held her books as well. Winking at her, he started toward the front of the store.
"How did you? I mean," she began flabbergasted, no idea how he'd been that fast. Aware of his training and preference for melee weapons, but she hadn't seen him move that fast in a non-combat situation. On second thought, she hadn't seen him move that fast in combat. Distracted, she almost forgot to grab the other two identical journals before they were at the register.
"I need those back to pay," she said when she realized they were next in line.
"I can not allow that. We removed all your cards. Too easy to track. Cash only for the moment." his grin changed into a smile.
When he smiled, it changed the angular features of his face to a softer visage. Maeve's stomach fluttered. He really had a nice smile. She opened her mouth to debate him, but they were called to the register. Sulking on the way to the SUV, she hated when people paid for things. Made her dependent.
"Are you upset with me?" he turned the engine on. The cold air conditioning blasted them, which was pleasant after the balmy outside. He pushed up his flannel sleeves. His scars showed again.
Compelled to touch him and trace the various unusual markings, she turned away. "No, I just," she sighed. "I've been paying for my own things for close to ten years now, its just weird," her eyes flicked back to him.
He nodded but didn't reply. It wasn't his fault she had no independence anymore.
"Aren't you hot?" she gestured to his flannel.
He became still and turned to the windshield. "I am not effected by the heat as much as most humans," his tone was flat.
Her intuition nudged her to press more. "I understand why you wear long sleeves when we're out but when its just us," she stopped when he faced her. Her heart beat sped up, made her lightheaded. "I just mean, I like you the way you are." the words tumbled out of her. Frustrated with her delivery, it'd sounded so much better in her head.
With a lopsided grin and he slid the flannel off and pushed his long sleeves up, his marks on full display. Maeve wasn't even aware she'd leaned toward him until her fingers rested on his arm. Did she need to touch him because friendly contact was foreign to him?
"Isn't that better?" her voice sounded alien to her, it was too silvery.
His grin shifted to the smile that showed his even teeth. She blinked and felt the pulse in her throat.
"Yes, it is," he replied in a throaty voice.
No idea how much time passed as she held his arm in a parking lot until the music changed. Her eyes darted to the dashboard. The radio had been on the entire time? How could she have not heard the music? She sat back, but didn't remove her hand from his arm. "Will you tell me about your tattoos? I know what some of them are, or I think I do, but the others I've never seen." she rushed through the words. Needed them to talk, to act normal. Well, normal for them anyway.
"As you like. Where do you prefer I begin? The front? Back? Or my arms?" his tone playful.
Her face flushed, and she slid her hand away.
Ander eased it back. "It is fine. I do not mind. It helps," he said with sincerity.
"Ok," she replied breathy "your back," and fought the urge to touch his shoulder.
"The shield knot was a gift from Mason several solstices ago. She created the design, selected the artist and paid for it as well,"
Maeve's eyes widened. What a strange gift.
"She also preformed the protection ritual. That was the worst part. It took hours because she casted both mine and Will's at the same time," he chuckled. "She was furious when we fell asleep." he broke out into laughter. "To our defense, Will's cross took forever to finish even though he had the outline, and some shading done previously. The lengthy ritual in addition was too much, even for me and I tend to enjoy those,"
"How long did it take? I mean to finish the tattoos and the ritual?"
Ander sat back in his seat, his expression changed to thoughtful. "My estimate would be around nine hours."
"Nine hours!" Maeve gasp.
"Rituals always take time," he responded matter of fact.
"I guess. So your tattoo protects you?" Her understanding of magic still wasn't great.
"Yes. The design is intentional and the ritual binds the symbols or words to the wearer. If you are using tattoos, you must cast the ritual when the tattoo is fresh and your skin is still broken and bleeding."
"Why?"
"Because you need blood."
"Oh,"
"It is not as terrible as it sounds, nor as exciting as most humans think when they hear the word ritual,"
"But what does the medusa tattoo do for you then?"
"Oh, that," he grimaced. "That was an intoxicated night with Will. We both chose something off the wall and had it added,"
"Well the artist did a good job, she's beautiful," Maeve wanted him to take his shirt off so she could look at his tattoo again but didn't move or tell him that. When the thought crossed her mind, she felt weird about it.
"Indeed. However it is not entirely accurate,"
"What do you mean not entirely accurate?"
"We have not encountered a gorgon yet, but the research suggests they are not beautiful. They are more akin to demons than snake women. Over the centuries the public has mixed the lamia with gorgons and made them less terrifying,"
Maeve's eyebrows drew together. She wasn't familiar with what a lamia or gorgon was. She knew of Medusa, but based on what Ander just said, what she knew was probably a warped version of the truth. She made a mental note to check what a lamia and gorgon were later.
"You already know what the brand and cuneiform are from." his eyes stared at the floor boards.
"Tell me about the tattoos on your arm," she said, to change his focus. She lifted her hand from his arm and reached for her necklace.
"I am ambidextrous, but I prefer my left hand so my triskelion is on my left arm. All soldiers of night have them. It is meant to symbolize our oath to create, protect, and destroy. It does not have to be on your arm but it is required to be placed somewhere visible to serve as a reminder of the oath and mission." he picked at his cargo pants. "It is also meant to symbolize heaven, hell and earth. When we received ours it was done in tandem with a ritual to give us some level of protection from heaven, hell and earthly creatures."
"When did you both get yours?" Maeve asked, curious when they were indoctrinated into the soldier's lifestyle. From Ander's previous comments it'd been early, probably too early, but she wanted to know how young they'd been.
"Will had been on missions since he was nine, but commonly new soldiers are initiated when they are twelve. Occasionally they will make exceptions. I was an exception." he stared out of the window, his eyes unfocused. "Will waited to receive his tattoo and the protection that accompanied it until I was initiated at eleven. He refused to serve as an official Soldier of Night until Wyatt agreed to allow me entrance."
Maeve sat back against the seat, moved by Will's devotion to Ander. "Eleven? That seems so... early."
Ander shrugged.
"And Will doing missions at nine was extremely dangerous and negligent on Wyatt's part." her tone hardened at the end. The more she heard about Wyatt, the more she disliked him. How could a father put his son in danger? Nine years old against real monsters? And Ander, he'd been so cruel to him at every opportunity, constantly devaluing him as a person. She took a deep breath to control her anger at a dead man. "It was very thoughtful of Will to wait for you."
Thoughtful never had been a word she considered using to describe Will or any of his actions. The corners of Ander's mouth tilted up as his eyes refocused.
"And the cancer symbol under it?"
"Primarily used for sorting,"
"Sorting? What kind of sorting?"
"It is overly complicated and boring, at least in Will's opinion. The short version is all soldiers of night have them. When planning anything on a large scale we are sorted by our element depending on the objective. I know it sounds... silly." he cleared his throat.
Maeve's face contorted. It was a ludicrous way to sort people. "They plan something based on people's birthdays?"
"Not birth dates, the elements. Each sign is assigned an element,"
"I know, but it seems... that can't be reliable." She tried to remember what signs went with what element. The only reason she knew the cancer symbol was because her cousin Wynne was a cancer and into horoscopes, at least when they were teenagers.
Ander laughed. "I had the same argument when I was twelve. Of course that was before I understood different planes of existence and how spells were created and," he turned to her.
Their eyes locked. Her heart pounded in her chest again. She wanted to run her fingers through his hair, touch his chest. Couldn't breathe. Her fingers slid to her throat. His eyes followed her hand and held an unsettling, hungry look. She was dizzy, even though they were seated. Her skin tingled. Outside, a horn blared. Blinking, she scanned the area. The realization that the parking lot now bustled with people. How long had they sat there?
"We should head toward the motel. We still need to procure lunch for Will." Ander's chest moved up and down with rapid breaths.
Had he felt that too? No. It'd probably been nothing more than some sort of delayed anxiety attack. Given the past nine days, it made sense. She might've been in shock for some of it and now experienced delayed reactions. Her thoughts wandered to his chest. He hadn't told her about the strange lines. They stopped to for lunch, Ander got both the cheese-steak Will wanted and donuts from the same restaurant.
Once they settled in the SUV, Maeve decided she had to know what the strange lines were. "I know you're probably done talking about your tattoos but,"
"You had not asked me about the Ogham on my chest,"
She flushed as she nodded. His right hand reached for hers.
"I agreed to tell you. I was not upset earlier, I became distracted." color rose in his cheeks.
"What is Og-ham?" she hoped she'd pronounced it correctly.
"Ogham is the ancient British and Irish alphabet. It consists of twenty characters formed by parallel strokes on either side of, or across a continuous line,"
The simplistic set of long vertical lines with shorter lines to either side of the vertical lines, that was the Ogham. But why was it in a circle?
"Most humans believe it was used primarily to write early Irish language and later the Old Irish language." he paused and took a deep breath.
She watched his face go through several expressions and tried to guess his thoughts. "It seemed like it was added after the cuneiform," her voice almost a whisper. Maeve didn't want to upset him again. Irritated at herself for asking about the Ogham now. Should've anticipated his tattoos would have meaning, symbolism or painful memories behind them.
"It was. Mason added it herself,"
"I'm sorry. I should've left it alone. I didn't mean to bring it up again."
"You are aware when she put it on?"
"Yeah, well no. Kind of. It's not that exact. I saw the chains, felt the burn, and heard the tattoo gun. It seemed like it was at the same time but," she paused. "I shouldn't have asked." she stared at her lap.
He squeezed her hand. She looked up into his watery eyes.
"I agreed to tell you. I want to be honest with you." he swallowed. "I had to be in chains. I was dangerous, full of power, and insane. My perception of reality distorted. I had used all of my willpower to allow Will to take me to Mason's. Once there, I could not keep him at bay. They had no choice. I am sorry you felt the brand,"
Maeve touched her chest with her free hand as the searing pain assaulted her again.
Ander pinched his brows together. "Can you sense it now?"
"Just an echo, not what you experienced." the burning in her chest made her mind fuzzy. "Mason, put the Ogham on then?" Only after the words left her lips, did she think about them and regretted them.
"I am uncertain. It was at some point shortly thereafter. From what they told me after the brand, the sorcerer's power and hold over me was severely diminished. The Ogham was added to bind the sorcerer before they removed him." He stopped and gritted his teeth. "It was also to bind my power and remove most of my knowledge of magic." he moved his hand away from hers to the steering wheel and gripped it tight. Anger twisted his features before they changed to resignation. "It was the correct choice," he whispered.
"But it's ok to be frustrated about it. It's ok to be upset."
His brow furrowed.
"Maybe not with them, but with me, I mean. It's ok to feel mad about it." It'd sounded so much better in her mind. Regardless of how much she tried, she couldn't say anything the way she meant to.
His expression softened and his hands slid from the steering wheel. He smiled at her the way he'd smiled in the bookstore. Her stomach fluttered again in response.
"Thank you." he turned back to the dashboard and pulled out of the parking space.
On the way to the motel, Maeve wondered how Ander felt about the mission. She understood the sorcerer had been a shade, an unusually powerful shade. Not likely to run into anything of that magnitude, but she worried it might unhinge Ander after last night. She reached over to his hand that wasn't on the wheel. In a heartbeat, he slid his hand over hers and held it.