Inked

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“Get it off! Get it off!”

“I’m trying!” Caleb grabbed a numb stick out of a drawer. “It would help if you’d stay still for half a second!”

“You stay still with claws in your ass!” I snarled, as they sank in a little deeper.

“I can’t do anything if you’re going to continue hopping around like that, Lia,” he rumbled.

I glared at him, but it didn’t do any good. It probably wouldn’t have anyway—Caleb did the strong, silent, imperturbable thing pretty well—but it was especially futile now. Like me, he was a war mage, part of the supernatural community’s police force. Unlike me, he was a respected, highly decorated member with years of experience. He was currently stuck with the worst job in the Corps—deactivating, categorizing and storing illegal weapons—only because he’d been wounded. An explosion had seared his retinas, leaving him virtually blind until his eyes healed.

“Are you sure you can do this?” I demanded, eyeing the swath of gauze wrapped around his buzz cut.

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