Its Just Ink

The night had stretched long, and Nyx was starting to feel the exhaustion seep into her bones. It was well past midnight, The Pink Needle was quiet, except for the soft buzz of the needle and the ambient hum of the neon sign outside. The faint hum of her tattoo machine, the subtle crackle of energy, hung in the room, thickening with an unsettling presence. But there was something more tonight—something strange stirring beneath the surface. Nyx had been feeling it for days now, an electric charge just under her skin that seemed to grow stronger every time she picked up her tattoo machine. Her thoughts drifted to Zane for a split second, wondering what he'd been up to. It had been a few days since they'd last spoken, but his presence lingered in her mind. The brief moment they'd shared in the bar, the flicker of recognition in his gaze, stayed with her. It had shaken her more than she cared to admit. She couldn't get him out of her head. 

You can hear the rhythmic pulse of Nyx's hand as she worked on the intricate design on Carly's thigh. She'd been working on it for a while now, a floral cover-up to replace a jagged heart tattoo. The woman in the chair, Carly, had been anxious when she first walked in, wanting to cover the painful reminder of her ex. Nyx glanced at the door, almost as if she were expecting someone, as she listened to Carly pour her heart out.

Zane had wandered to the tattoo parlor Nyx moonlighted at. He stood outside trying to gather his thoughts. He'd begun to feel the magnifying pull from just beyond the doors. The feeling he felt maximized the moment he'd stepped inside. Her presence, her energy, felt familiar, like an echo of something long lost. The very something he had the primal need to reclaim. 

The pair locked eyes for a second. Zane had been avoiding her for weeks. Not because he didn't find her fascinating (he did, though he'd never admit it), but because she had been avoiding him. You see, she'd already tattooed hundreds of people in her short life. But when Zane walked into her shop—glowing eyes, leather jacket, and that usual vampire aura that screamed "I'm mysterious and dangerous,"—she'd rolled her eyes. And not in the cute, flirty way either. No, she gave him the kind of eye roll that you reserve for annoying customers who want a dragon tattoo but can't decide on which shade of red they want.

"Can I help you, Sparkles?" she'd asked, barely looking up from the tattoo she was working on. She looked unfazed, but that was far from the truth.

Zane blinked. He had been called many things over the centuries—"bloodsucker," "immortal bastard," "that guy who always orders the same drink," but never sparkles. And it threw him off in the beginning, just a little. But he had become quite fond of the name.

"I… I'm here for a tattoo," he said, trying to sound as cool as possible, though part of him just wanted to turn into a bat and fly out of the room dramatically. But that would be weird, he thought.

"Great. Pick a seat," she said, gesturing toward a folding chair that looked like it had been assembled with a prayer and a lot of duct tape. "I'll get to you after I'm done with Carley and her cover-up." She said, slightly annoyed, turning her attention back to the all but sobbing woman in front of her. The joys of tattoo therapy.

 The sorrow in the young woman's voice was heavy, it pained Nyx to hear. As Nyx worked, she felt the energy building again, like something was waiting to be unlocked. Her hands trembled slightly as the needle traced the outline of the flower, the design becoming more detailed with each passing second. The hum of the needle seemed louder, almost as if it was calling to her.

 Nyx blinked, focusing on the task at hand, trying to ignore the strange feeling crawling up her spine. Carly shifted in the chair, and Nyx glanced up at her client. There was something in her eyes—something different. Where there had once been confusion and sadness, now there was… something else. The lines of tension in her face were smoothing out, her posture becoming more confident. Nyx felt a flicker of unease stir in her chest.

"What's going on?" she murmured to herself. She wasn't sure if she was imagining it, but the tattoo seemed to be taking on a life of its own, the colors deepening, the lines sharp and precise. That was when it happened—the sensation, like a spark of electricity, shot through her body, igniting something deep inside. The energy was intense, unfamiliar, and for a split second, she thought she might faint. She gripped the edge of the tattoo chair, trying to steady herself, but it was as if her whole world tilted. After a minute, it was gone again. 

She kept thinking back to the night she had tattooed her first client after her strange encounter with Zane. It had been weeks since then, but it felt like only yesterday. The connection they had shared—however fleeting—had stayed with her. Since that night, she had begun to notice changes around her. Her tattoos were becoming more than just designs—they were affecting people in ways she couldn't explain. It had happened before but this time it was worse, and had worsened after beginning around Zane. Maybe he was the problem, she thought. 

As she inked Carly, she felt an overwhelming pull, a force that seemed to grow stronger as the needle pierced the woman's skin. The flower design on Carly's thigh was beginning to take on a life of its own, its petals blooming with unnatural vibrancy. Nyx hesitated for a moment, her hand hovering over the skin, unsure whether to continue. But something urged her forward, a strange compulsion she couldn't ignore. Carly's breath hitched suddenly, her voice shaky. 

"I… I feel different," she said softly, almost as if she was waking from a daze. Her hands gripped the chair's armrests tighter as her eyes widened.

Nyx frowned, eyes flicking from her client's face to the intricate design she was completing. The lines of the flower were flawless, the colors bleeding into the skin like the tattoo had been there forever. It was perfect… too perfect. But there was something else—something in Carly's eyes.

Carly glanced down at the tattoo, then back at Nyx, her expression shifting. "I… I feel… strong. Confident," she murmured, her voice now steady and sure, unlike the fragile woman who had walked in earlier. "I don't feel... lost anymore."

Nyx swallowed hard, her hand shaking as she put the needle down. Her mind raced, confusion and fear mixing with a strange sense of exhilaration. What was happening?

Carly stood up slowly, her eyes no longer filled with the uncertainty they had carried before. "I… I don't know what to say. I came in here feeling like I'd never get over him, like I was broken. But now, I feel like I can handle anything." Carly sat back down, allowing Nyx to continue.

Nyx watched her with a mixture of awe and dread. The transformation was too sudden, too real. Carly was no longer the same woman who had come in looking for a simple cover-up. She was on the last of her shading. She was shading a pretty pink jungle flower. Her head throbbed violently, a sudden, sharp pain that made her vision blur. 

"Thank you," Carly said, her voice calm and confident, snapping Nyx out of her daze. She smiled at Nyx, a genuine smile this time. "I feel like a new person."

Nyx opened her mouth to respond, but no words came out. Nyx cleaned up the tattoo, covering it in ointment and tattoo-derm silently. She didn't understand what had just happened—she didn't know if she had done it or if it was something Carly had needed all along. Zane watched from his seat, concern dancing all over his face, but unwilling to say anything as he didn't want to spook Carley. 

Before she could say anything, Carly grabbed her bag, throwing a glance at the door. "I'll pay you at the counter. Thank you again," she said, her smile still bright and sure. She smiled and waved at Zane, her eyes a bright and confident yellow, as she slapped a stack of bills on the counter before she walked out. The door chimed softly behind her as Nyx stood frozen in place, the weight of what had just occurred sinking in. She slowly glanced down at her hands, still trembling. She hadn't meant to do anything—she was just trying to help. But somehow, the tattoo had changed Carly, made her into someone new. The realization hit Nyx with full force.

"What is happening to me?" she whispered, almost afraid to ask the question.

She had been aware of the strange energy building within her, but she hadn't known what it meant. Now, she was sure of one thing—she wasn't just an ordinary tattoo artist anymore.

The sound of the door opening again made her jump, and she turned sharply. It was Zane locking the door to the shop. He stepped back inside, his presence as magnetic as ever, his eyes scanning the room before locking onto her with a piercing intensity.

"Nyx," he said, his voice low and controlled. "I felt it. What just happened?"

She swallowed hard, her pulse quickening as he stepped closer. She wanted to tell him everything—the confusion, the power she could no longer deny. But part of her, a part she didn't understand, was afraid. Afraid of what Zane might know. Afraid of what this power meant for her.

Her fingers, still stained with ink, began to tremble uncontrollably as the headache deepened, splitting her skull in two. She gasped, closing her eyes, desperate for relief, but nothing came. Instead, the pain grew worse, like memories from another life, memories that didn't belong to her, were starting to resurface. 

The name echoed in her mind like a whisper on the wind, pulling her toward something she couldn't see. A flood of images flashed behind her closed eyelids—old, fragmented visions. A different time, a different world, but it felt real, as though she had lived it before. She was standing in front of a large, dark castle, the air cold and sharp. And there, in the distance, a tall figure cloaked in shadows.

 Zane.

Her breath hitched, a pulse of panic rising in her chest. Her vision swam as flashes of another life—one that didn't belong in this century—flashed through her mind. She saw herself then, much older, but unmistakably her. Standing next to him, their hands intertwined, their eyes locked in a moment that stretched across time. She saw the fear in his eyes, the same fear she felt now, the same longing. The pull between them had always existed. 

And then, in an instant, it was gone. 

Nyx's breath came out in a choked gasp, and a wave of nausea washed over her, her head spinning. She stumbled back, the intense headache almost blinding her as she tried to make sense of what she had just experienced. The tattoo had triggered it—the ink, the energy she had unknowingly unleashed into Carly's skin. She could feel it now, pulsing through her veins. Her knees gave out, and she collapsed to the floor, the sharp pain in her head nearly paralyzing her. The world around her began to spin, her vision flickering in and out of focus. She barely registered the sound of footsteps rushing toward her.

Zane.

But this time, it was his voice that brought her back to the present, his hands steadying her as he knelt beside her.

"Nyx!" Zane's voice was urgent, but there was something... darker in his tone, something not quite right. His hands gripped her shoulders, shaking her slightly, his voice more insistent. "What the hell just happened?"

Nyx tried to speak, but the words didn't come out. The migraine was too intense, her body too weak. She could hear Zane's breathing, shallow and quick, but there was something off in his eyes—something she hadn't noticed before.

Zane's body stiffened, and she could feel the heat radiating off of him. He pulled back slightly, and that was when Nyx noticed the blood. His hands were stained with it. The sight of it made her stomach churn.

"No," she whispered hoarsely, her voice barely a breath. 

"Zane… you're bleeding," she says, touching his face. He didn't respond at first, his gaze flickering toward his hands, his fangs visibly lengthening. Blood ran from his nose and eyes simultaneously. A deep, almost primal hunger filled his eyes, the thirst evident in the tension of his jaw. His breathing became shallow, ragged.

 "I—I can't... It's happening again." 

He backed away slightly, shaking his head as if trying to fight the impulse rising inside him. But Nyx knew what it meant—what it had always meant. The blood. His thirst. The hunger that had been buried for centuries. It was like he was an Echo all over again.

Zane's gaze flickered back to her, and his voice dropped to a low, pained whisper, "What did you do?"

The tension in the air was suffocating, and Nyx, despite her spinning head and the overwhelming pain, managed to blink up at him. "It's not me. It's... us," she rasped. "The tattoo—it triggered something. The memories—"

She didn't get to finish. Her world spun again, the throbbing pain in her head intensifying. She let out a soft cry of pain, clutching her temples. She could barely see straight, her head was so heavy. The blinding headache, the memories of a life not her own, the connection between them—it was all too much.

And Zane? He was too far gone, his expression twisted in hunger, the thirst overwhelming him, drowning him.

"I can't hold it back," he muttered under his breath, his voice strained. His body tensed, like a predator on the edge of control. He took a step back, but he couldn't tear his gaze away from her. The pull between them was too strong.

"No!" Nyx gasped, her voice cutting through the fog in her mind. "You can't—don't—"

But it was too late. Zane's eyes had gone dark, the hunger and thirst overtaking him completely. He leaned in toward her, just inches away from her neck, but then he froze. The scent of her blood, so close, was nearly too much for him. He fought it, shaking his head in desperation, but his restraint was slipping.

Nyx reached out, her fingertips brushing his arm. She felt his power, his desire, but also something else—something ancient, something that tied them both together.

"I'm... sorry," he whispered, his voice strained. But even as he spoke, his eyes flickered back toward the door. "You're not ready. Neither of us is."

But the words didn't seem to matter anymore. As Nyx's body finally gave out, her vision slipping away into blackness, Zane let out a ragged breath, and the battle inside him became something neither of them could ignore any longer. The floodgates had opened. The memories had awakened.

And the dangerous dance between them had only just begun.

Zane sat on the floor, his head in his lap, the blood lust had subsided when she had passed out. She was made for him, it would only make sense that she would amplify his animal side. Maybe. So many things were uncertain, it was starting to feel like a Guess and check kind of situation. His hands gently caressed her face, trying to cool her body. It felt like she had a fever. He had cleaned his blood off of her hand first, then wiped his face, knowing the harm that could come to her if it stayed in her skin too long. After a moment like this Nyx came to.

 "Hey Lovie, are you alright? How are you feeling?" Zane bombarded her with questions, but her brain was still a little foggy. 

"Ugh! Like fucking Dealth" She whhispers he laughs at her responde softly, followed up by a forehead kiss. One that said I'm glad you are okay. The pair stares at each other for a minute. 

"What the hell was that?" 

"I… I don't know," she admitted softly, the words feeling like an apology.

 "I didn't mean to—"Zane cut her off with a gentle, almost imperceptible shake of his head. 

"You don't have to try and explain. Not that either of us knows what just happened. You're not the only one carrying a burden of power, Nyx. And you're not the only one who's afraid."She looked up at him, his words sinking in. For the first time, she saw the flicker of understanding in his eyes—the same wariness, the same curiosity that she felt swirling inside her.

"I'm not sure how to control it," Nyx confessed, her voice a little shaky now. "But I think I'm changing. I think… my tattoos are doing more than just ink. They're… changing people."

Zane's expression grew serious. He stood up with her in his arms, his voice soft but firm. "You need to be careful. There's more at play here than you realize. And you're not alone in this, Nyx. Whatever you're becoming… We'll figure it out together."The words were a strange comfort, though the unease still twisted in Nyx's stomach. She wasn't alone, but the weight of what she had just discovered—what she had just unleashed—was far from simple.

Nyx felt the full weight of her power, and the realization that she couldn't walk this path on her own.

Zane was right. She wasn't the only one carrying a burden of power. And now, for better or worse, she was connected to something much larger than herself. She couldn't stop thinking about the incident before she got here. Zane was preoccupied, trying to figure out how to get answers. There was only one man to call.

Jax.