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“They don’t even look like scars anymore,” Emma said wonderingly as she and Megan examined my bare back. “They’re more like tattoos—only done in pink instead of blue ink.”
“And look—the skin isn’t rough anymore.” Megan touched the edge of one scar with her fingertip, making me twitch all over. “It’s smooth!” she exclaimed stroking my shoulder blade. “And look at the shape.”
“Triangles?” Emma wrinkled her forehead uncertainly. “Really long ones but…”
“No—wings! They’re shaped like wings!” Megan exclaimed.
“Like bat wings?” I asked, peering over my shoulder again and squinting at the mirror. “I guess that would make since. I mean, I am a vampire now. Don’t they have all those legends about Nocturnes being able to turn themselves into bats?”
“Griffin says all that is nonsense,” Megan said, sounding distracted as she continued to study my back. “He says some Nocturnes can have special control over animals—like his family does—but they can’t transform themselves into any other creature. It’s just not possible.”
“Then what does it mean?” Emma demanded. “And why is it happening?”
Suddenly there was a knock at the bathroom door.
“Okay, girls,” Avery’s voice said from outside. “I don’t want to see anyone in the altogether but can someone please tell me what in the world is going on right now?”
“Should we let Avery see?” Megan asked me.
I shrugged. Normally I was extremely shy about showing my scars and if it had been any other boy in the world standing outside that door, I would have given a firm no. But these were my Coven-mates and besides, I knew Avery wasn’t interested in me that way. Plus, he had the most magical knowledge of any of us, since he’d grown up in a magical family and come to Nocturne Academy very early. So maybe he could help.
“Let him in,” I said, just making certain that my more delicate areas were covered. Just because I was comfortable letting Avery see me didn’t mean I was immodest.
“Okay, what is going on in here?” he demanded, peering owlishly at the three of us. “Katydid, what are you doing in only a towel at three o’clock in the morning?”
“I had a funny dream and then I woke up because my back was itching,” I told him. “I took a shower and found that my scars had changed. Well, the ones on my back, anyway.”
“Changed how exactly?” Avery demanded.
“Well, just look at them,” Megan said, pointing. “They’re not rough anymore—they’re smooth.”
“And they’re shaped like wings,” Emma put in. “Don’t you think?”
“I don’t know.” Avery looked more wide awake now. He examined my bare back with a frown.
“Avery,” I said, appealing to him. “What’s going on with me? Is this a bad thing?”
He shook his head.
“Honestly, Katydid, I don’t know—I wish I did.”
“But does it seem magical in nature to you?” Megan asked anxiously. “I mean, it must be—right? Scars don’t just change like this, literally overnight, without some kind of magic.”
“Maybe.” Avery pursed his lips. “Or it could be some kind of reaction.”
“Like an allergic reaction?” Emma asked anxiously. “Like people get to shellfish?”
“How can that be?” Megan asked. “The only thing Kaitlyn has been eating or, er, drinking lately is…”
“Blood,” all four of us said at once and I felt a shiver go through me. Every once in a while this happened—it was like our minds converged and we all had the same thought or said the same word at the same time. Avery said it was a sign of an exceptionally close Coven—I wasn’t sure what it was but it always gave me a chill when it happened.
“More specifically, Drake blood,” Avery said, frowning. “And not just any Drake—you’re drinking from one of the most powerful Drakes in the Sky Lands.”
I remembered my thoughts earlier, about how Ari’s blood was like a strong liquor and how it almost made me feel drunk when I took his vein.
“Do you think…” I had to lick my lips which had suddenly gone dry before I could continue. “Do you think drinking Drake blood—drinking from Ari—is somehow changing me?” I asked.
Avery sighed.
“I really don’t know, hon—I wish I did. Do you feel like you’re changing? I mean does this…” He waved a hand, indicating the new configuration of my scars, “hurt at all?”
“No.” I shook my head. In fact, the new scars felt lighter and looser than my old ones had. And Emma had been right, if you looked at them right, they almost looked like tattoos. These scars I wouldn’t have been ashamed to show, I thought longingly. Why couldn’t something like this happen to my face?
Well, maybe it would if I kept drinking from Ari.
The thought filled me with a sudden burst of hope. I would do anything to get rid of my scars and if I couldn’t get rid of them, changing them would be the next best thing. Given the choice of looking like a burn victim or looking like a tattooed lady who loved ink a little too much, I’d take the tattoos every time.
