Inked Magic Read Online Free Page A

pretend ones. She was a child of the city. The majority of her brushes with nature had occurred in Golden Gate Park, in museums and aquariums, with forays to the beach, especially in her teen years. Or boating in the bay and delta before her relationship with the captain disintegrated.
    She glanced at Cathal. It was easier to think about him than about her family. “Salina recognized you. She said you own a club.”
    “Saoirse.”
    She smiled at the utter confidence in his voice. The tone saying, “I’m sure you’ve heard of it,” even if he didn’t say the words.
    Saoirse. She knew it. A place to see and be seen.
    “That explains why you’re not worried about walking into Aesirs without dinner reservations.”
    The scent of his cologne wrapped her in heady lust. The heat between them combined with the sun’s rays made her want to shed her clothes and stretch out naked alongside him.
    Her fingers flexed, wanting to touch, to explore. A small smile played over her lips as she contemplated which she’d regret more—acting on the desire she felt for Cathal, or fighting it.
    He turned his head slightly, enough so their eyes met. “Do I dare ask what you’re thinking?”
    She laughed. “I imagine there’s not much you don’t dare.”
    His smile served as an answer. They drew close enough to Aesirs for the bouncers to move, not to intercept but in preparation for opening the heavy wooden doors.
    “I take it you come here often.”
    “Often enough. I meet my father and uncle here when they want a meal away from home.”
    She started to ask a follow-up question about them, but the chime of a hundred tiny bells assaulted her, ringing in her ears. “Do you hear that?”
    He cocked his head, eyebrows lifting in question. “Hear what?”
    She laughed at herself. “Never mind. Overactive imagination. It comes with being an artist.”
    Yet a few steps later she knew it hadn’t been. Her breath caught at seeing the symbols carved into the wooden doors, images that spoke to a core, subconscious part of her, some of the sigils recognizable from her dreams though she had no frame of reference to give them meaning beyond what she herself had assigned them.
    Her heart raced, not in anticipation but with deep-seated wariness. The urge to turn back, to suggest they go somewhere else for dinner was strong.
    She fought it, refusing to flee from the unknown. She stifled misgivings with curiosity. The symbols carved into the wood held the subtle promise of revealing more about the gifts that defined who she was and how she lived her life.
    The doors opened. As they passed through the entranceway, stepping into hushed luxury, the hair on the back of her neck rose. The scent of fire and water filled her nostrils even as it felt as though cold blue flames licked along the intricate vines tattooed on her forearms.
    Both smell and fiery sensation lasted only an instant, then were gone. A maître d’ stepped forward, staring at her until seeming to suddenly recall his duties. “The usual requirements?” he asked Cathal.
    “Yes.”
    The maître d’ turned, leading them deeper into the restaurant. He was tall, hair flowing in a solid black wave and stopping halfway down his back.
    Bryce’s entreaty to scope out the men for Derrick’s sake groundedEtaín to the world she lived in as opposed to this one. It gave her a place to retreat to until she had time to think about the bells, the symbols, and the weirdness as she’d entered Aesirs.
    She looked at the waiters. Not an ugly one among them though their physiques varied. Something for everyone, depending on taste, they glided through the restaurant, living confection that made her mouth water as surely as chocolate did.
    “I’m starting to think I made a mistake suggesting we eat here,” Cathal murmured.
    “Feeling threatened?”
    His hand settled lightly on her back, bringing carnal heat and a tightening of her nipples. A stroke to her spine turned her focus solidly back to