Free Traveler by Melanie Jackson Page A

undress out of the public eye.”
    Jack raised a brow but didn’t make any suggestive comments. He really was trying.
    “I’m ‘ticked,’ ” Io said. “I can get the ones on my arms and legs, but I have a feeling that Ferris may have slipped one onto my back. He isn’t usually a pat-them-on-the-back sort of guy, but he glad-handed me a few times the day he grafted on these birthmarks.”
    Jack considered for a moment. “We’ll go to my place. I have some equipment.”
    “We don’t need much. I have a knife.”
    “Yeah, but we don’t want to kill the ticks. They may be useful to us later. We’ll put them in some gelatin with a little blood and then hide them somewhere innocuous.”
    Io nodded. He wouldn’t want them at his crash pad. The place was probably warded, but Xanthe could possibly find him anyway, and clearly he didn’t want to be found.
    Io, on the other hand, still felt that she might like to have someone on the outside know where she was. Eventually, just not right now. Another Gordianknot. Damn! She felt as if she was in constant bondage.
    Jack’s room was in a dilapidated building of brick where junkies had stayed during the daylight hours. As their addictions grew, so did their sensitivity to sunlight. This building would have been ideal because it had very few unshuttered windows. However, the junkies were all gone now. Jack had scared them away.
    He opened the wards on his door, and then using a bit of fire magic he set the kerosene lamp alight. As Io had suspected, fire didn’t bother him.
    The room was empty except for a duffle bag that sat on top of an old claw-footed table. There was a hammock in the corner, suspended from two sturdy bolts that had made new wounds in the walls. Most earth feys preferred to sleep grounded, but given the filth accumulated on the water-damaged floor, Io couldn’t blame Jack for choosing to sleep up off of it.
    “Okay, let’s see these ticks.”
    “I can manage the arm and leg,” Io said, realizing that she was going to have to undress in order to get the trackers off of her. She was wearing another leather outfit that passed for goblin couture, and this one was skintight. “It’s just my back that’s the problem.”
    “It’s not a problem. Your knife or mine?”
    “Mine. It has a silver blade. It also has one of coldiron, so be careful. You don’t want burned fingers.”
    “And you don’t need a burn on your back.”
    “Not if I can avoid it.” She pulled her small pocketknife from her boot and handed it to him. “It’s the top blade.”
    “I feel it.”
    Io took a deep breath and then turned away from Jack. She undid the corset belt and quickly pulled her sweater up over her head. She didn’t wear a bra, so there was no need to do more.
    “Look for moles or any raised skin. It might not be dark. Ferris is sneaky.” Her voice was a little shaky. She hoped Jack thought it was fear and not arousal that made it tremble.
    Jack got something out of his duffle bag and then stepped over to her. He ran a slow hand over her bare flesh. He wasn’t using his magic, but his hands were still hot, and they disturbed her pulse and breathing. Io bit her tongue so she wouldn’t tell him to hurry. Or to slow down and take his time.
    “Got it. Looks like I spoke too soon. Grit your teeth, little fey. This will hurt.”
    “Keep it shallow and it won’t hurt a lot. It should be connected by a single vein.”
    “Sorry. Not this time. Your Ferris stuck it on good. It has grafted itself smooth and sent down roots. This sucker is grafted on as tight as your own skin—maybe tighter.”
    Io said another bad troll word.
    “You want to go on with it?” Jack asked.
    “Just do it. I’ll heal.”
    “Okay.”
    Jack was fast and kept the cut shallow, but Io couldn’t help flinching as the tick was pulled loose. Pure silver was better than any other metal for surgical use on magical beings, but they all hurt. Of course, that was the point of the silver and