Free Inked Magic by Jory Strong

the finished design and supporting photographs of a girl in her early twenties from the manila folder.
    The art she placed facedown on her workstation table, the pictures faceup. Sadness spread through her chest like a shadow as she studiedthe photographs, the emotion a small reflection of the grief that would soon be pouring into her if Kelli showed up for her appointment.
    What would it be like to have a child? To lose that child?
    Sometimes she wondered if one day she’d want one. If she’d dare have one, knowing the past might repeat itself and she might be forced to leave that child as she had been left.
    She’d already learned that loving someone—at least where there was physical intimacy—didn’t protect them from her gift. The damage done when she was seventeen, and then again at twenty, to guys she’d thought would be a part of her life forever, still had the power to weigh her down with guilt, though in the end, both of her lovers had overcome it.
    Her gaze moved to her own hands. She turned them over to reveal the intricate eyes at the center of her palms.
    Her mother had tattoos on the backs of her hands and curling around her wrists. Not the same design, but the eyes were part of them.
    She could remember sitting on her mother’s lap as they traveled by bus, disappearing from one life and into another as she traced the ink with her fingers, always asking,
What do they mean?
Always getting the same answer.
See but remain unseen.
    Etaín turned away from the memory. There were no answers to be found in it, only pain and longing.
    Bryce had done as promised. Her machines were clean and waiting for her, along with fresh needles and latex gloves. She picked up a pad and pencil, drawing without conscious decision only to become uneasy when the image on paper turned into the one she’d seen in her mind’s eye on the inside of Cathal’s forearms. He was showing up too often in her thoughts and she’d never put her ink on a lover, either before or after the fact.
    It’s just been too long since I’ve been with anyone
, she told herself, relieved when Kelli’s arrival gave her something else to focus on.
    Etaín walked around the counter, taking in Kelli’s pale featuresand bruise-shadowed eyes. Even braced for it, her breath caught when she put a comforting hand on Kelli’s arm and grief poured into her. “If you’re not sure about this—”
    “I’m sure. I
need
to do this.”
    “Okay,” Etaín said, letting her hand drop away and leading Kelli to the workstation.
    Kelli teared up at seeing the pictures laid out on the table. Etaín picked up the drawing, turning it over.
    “Yes,” Kelli whispered, her hand shaking as she wiped at escaping tears.
    Etaín freed a paper towel from the roll on the lower shelf of her worktable and passed it to Kelli in lieu of a tissue. “I’ll make the stencil, then we’ll get started.”
    She did it and returned, the tank top Kelli wore making it possible to do the tattoo without going behind the privacy screen. A quick wash with an antiseptic solution followed by the swipe of a new razor got rid of the hair above Kelli’s left breast. Another cleansing wipe, and then Etaín made a pass with stick deodorant before pressing the stencil against skin and smoothing over it to make sure all the lines were transferred.
    She removed the paper then took the mirror from its spot next to the paper towels, holding it up for Kelli. “That okay?”
    “Yes.”
    “We’ll give it a few minutes to dry while I get the ink ready. Go ahead and lie down. You’ll need to stay still. Talking is fine and if you start feeling light-headed or queasy, or just need a break, let me know. There’s no time pressure here. This’ll take as long as it takes.”
    Kelli’s
okay
was a little shaky but Etaín had worked on higher-strung clients, and Kelli’s tattoo was small. She’d get it done in one relatively quick session.
    As they waited, she studied the photographs, building her