Chapter 6

It only took a moment, with him bringing me along for his whirlwind trip.

We were still in New Orleans, but tucked way away from anywhere a tourist might find themselves, away from where most humans would find themselves too.

He pointed up at the name of the shop we were standing in front of: Sanguine Ink. My eyebrows shot up.

"Whoa… Parris? You know lien de sang is... um, binding?"

He nodded. "It"s also romantic as fuck, don"t you think?" he asked.

"It's serious magic."

"Yeah, it is. What, you too pussy?" he asked, and I laughed.

"No, not at all. Considering what we"re already supposed to be doing, I just..."

He shrugged. "You just what? You say you want to be in love, so… what's up? And I don"t want to hear that it"s not that simple," he quipped, practically taking the words out of my mouth. "Because it quite literally is that simple. And who gives a fuck if it"s cheating? I"m sure that"s what you think, right?"

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, a little," I admitted. "It"s not the same thing as putting time in and getting to know someone, genuinely enjoying them and wanting to be with them."

"So you don't want to do it?"

"No," I argued. "I"m just not sure about it."

"And I"m not gonna make you do anything you don"t want to do, nothing you"re not feeling."

I pushed out a deep sigh.

Of course I appreciated him not forcing me to take this step, which we both knew he very well could. I may have been able to get my little licks in here and there, to fight back when I could catch him by surprise, but he was absolutely more powerful than I was.

Probably even if I was at full potential, without my legacy power being siphoned.

The trap at the store had only worked because it could draw on the power that was already there—decades, centuries even, of soaking in the Pierre family magic. Otherwise, that whole thing would've looked quite different.

Or maybe it wouldn't, since Parris hadn't given any inclination of wanting to hurt me.

The opposite, in fact.

Which was the biggest factor in me questioning myself on what exactly I was worried about with doing the claret tattoos. What were the drawbacks of it, really, when I was already about to be bound to him forever?

It didn"t make much sense to not take the opportunity to ease my discomfort.

"You know what? Let"s do it," I told him.

He raised an eyebrow. "You sure?" he asked, and I felt the probe in my brain, him pushing me to tell the truth.

"No," I answered. "I"m not sure. But we"re here, and I think it"s the best decision I can make for myself. And that"ll have to be enough."

He stared at me for a moment, then nodded.

"Aiight. Let's do it."

If I had any doubts or misunderstandings about the influence of the Blacks before now, they would have been quickly assuaged by the way everything stopped when we walked inside. Even in the dim, moody lighting of the shop, there were little pockets of brighter illumination where artists were at work.

Well, had been.

They stopped to get a look at Parris Black.

"Mr. Black, how can we be of service?"

I looked back to where Parris was standing to find that we"d been approached. This was not a first descendant vampire.

No one else in here was.

He extended his hand to Parris to shake with an abundance of respect in his tone, but no deference, as if he knew Parris would have hated that.

"Lien de sang, for me and my lady here," Parris told him, accepting the greeting gesture.

His lady? I thought, wondering when the hell that had happened.

And then I realized it wasn"t something that really needed to be discussed.

It was essentially a done deal anyway, specifics aside.

With an eyebrow raised, the other vampire looked between me and Parris with a frown, then spoke directly to him. "She"s not a vampire," he said. "And this won"t turn her into one."

"I know," Paris agreed. "I understand the rules and all of that. We still want to do it."

"Wait a minute—is there something more I need to understand though? " I spoke up, drawing the eyes of both Parris and the other vampire.

He looked at Parris again, waiting on approval before returning his attention to me.

"It binds you," he explained. "A permanent connection. His blood will be mingled with yours, and it ain"t something that can be filtered out. It"s intimate," he said. "The connection. Not the process, necessarily. You understand what I"m saying?"

"Yes, of course. I'm a witch, I understand the magic. But why were you hesitant to do it?"

"Because you're not a vampire," he answered, shaking his head a bit. "When you cross blood like that, it"s going to hurt."

"Tattoos already hurt."

"Not like this will," he warned, and Parris interjected.

"You don"t have to worry about that," he told me. "You won"t feel anything you don't want to feel."

"Gon' hurt for you too, boss," the other vampire told Parris.

He shook his head. "That ain"t the type of thing that concerns me." He shrugged.

No, of course not.

It seemed like the type of thing he"d enjoy, actually, to a degree that most would likely consider sinful. Of course, the other vampire didn"t say that, though. He simply nodded and gestured for us to follow him.

The destination was a candlelit room that surely some type of hyperspeed had been used to set up. There were two reclining tattoo chairs right next to each other instead of facing head on.

We followed the instructions to sit down, waiting for the next thing.

"You still sure you want to do this?" Parris asked.

I shrugged. "I already told you I wasn't, but… I'm doing it," I said, and he nodded.

"Just making sure. Last chance to back out."

"I"m not pussy," I told him, and he smirked, then looked to the duo who was apparently going to be completing this for us.

He gave them a nod.

The next thing I knew, there was a needle in my arm, drawing blood. Next to me, Parris was getting the same. The two vampires then exchanged the vials, pouring the deep red liquid into matching pots of ink at their workstations.

I didn"t have to wonder what the tattoo was going to be. There was only one thing it could be, to complete the spell.

A name.

I cringed a bit at the cold alcohol pad to cleanse the skin on my neck.

Another requirement.

It couldn"t be in some secret place. If you did this, it was on display for anyone to see, which made it all the more serious.

But there was no backing down now.

My face was already turned toward Parris, his face turned toward me. He reached out, grabbing my hand, and… it started.

It did hurt.

But only for the briefest moment before I felt the imposition of Parris in my head, smothering my senses. I could still feel the tickle of the needle on my skin, the slightest sting as the blood-mingled ink soaked into me, but nothing like that very first sensation.

I focused on Parris. His tattoo was on the opposite side of mine, situated so that if I was standing on his right, he would see his name on me. For now I was turned to my right, watching my name—my full name—get permanently scribed onto his neck. I looked for signs of discomfort and found none. He was tuned in completely on me, staring me down like I was something he wanted—no, needed—to consume.

It was quite... exhilarating.

Impatience had me dying to get out of that seat, aching to get somewhere private with him. His grip on my hand tightened as he smirked. He knew exactly what was happening in my head, but that was fine.

I wasn't ashamed.

And if he knew what I expected already… even better.

Still, it was taking too long.

As much as I appreciated that they were taking their time, putting care into it, I needed to—oh.

Wait.

Was this the lien de sang already working?

I didn't want to be hasty with laying the blame on the tattoo when I'd already been so embarrassingly turned on by Parris, but this did feel… different.

It wasn't purely lust. There were butterflies in my chest from the way he was looking at me.

Ew.

In my head, Parris laughed.

"Isn't this what you wanted?" he asked. "This feeling of being smitten?"

"Yeah, but still. Not sure how I feel about it."

"Fine. How do you feel about me?"

I considered the question for a moment before answering. "I feel like… I want to know how your day was and if you had anything to eat."

Double ew.

Still in my head, Parris laughed again.

Like, truly cracked the fuck up.

"It's not funny!"

"Yes the hell it is," he countered. "You're hating on me so bad that you're annoyed that the blood magic is doing what it's supposed to do."

I started to lie and say I wasn't annoyed, but that wouldn't serve any purpose.

Instead, I rolled my eyes at him and said nothing, going back to watching the process. I soon realized that my artist was actually going slower, to stay on pace with the artist who was working on Parris.

Larivye had more letters, so in theory should take longer. However, they made a point of finishing at the same time before washing them with some solution from an unlabeled bottle.

Finally, we were done.

I gave Parris a look, and he wasted no time with the social graces of getting the people paid and getting us out of there. I didn't even question where we were going. I was just along for the ride, which ended with us in the middle of a hotel suite in the Quarter.

No time wasted on talking, either.

No, it was straight to his tongue in my mouth, fingers in my pussy, priming me for whatever was next.

Clothes stripped and scattered, legs splayed wide across the bed while he licked and slurped me up, his tongue taking a meandering path from my belly button to the small of my back, feasting on everything in between.

His heavy, long dick sinking into me—stretching, filling, pounding.

His tongue in my mouth again, swallowing my screams of pleasure as he fucked me fast, slow, hard, deep, turned us over so I was riding him, fucking him back.

And then… his fangs sinking into my neck as I came.

Right where his name was.

My nails dug into his back as I rode the wave of pleasure, rode the wave of pain, kept riding his dick like it was my final show.

Everything was bright.

And blurry.

And… beautiful.

My mouth fell open to scream my bliss, scream his name as he emptied into me and sucked my neck at the same time, giving and taking.

And then… the fade to black came.