A Faerie's Curse (Creepy Hollow #6) by Rachel Morgan Page B

of it at all, like he had no clue that maybe the rest of us might want a say in the matter. So … yeah. I didn’t exactly feel warmly toward you.”
    â€œOkaaay,” I say slowly. I guess I can see how that might upset her. “But that doesn’t explain why you didn’t like me the first time we met. You didn’t know me at all when I first walked into Wickedly Inked. I could have been a potential client, and you were downright rude.”
    She places her hands on her hips. “Yeah, well, I’ve never liked pretty girls.”
    That’s the last thing I was expecting. “What?”
    â€œThe prettiest girls are usually the meanest.” She runs her fingers delicately through her spiked hair. “I’ve been picked on by more than my fair share of beautiful girls, and these days I just don’t have time for them.”
    I find myself slowly shaking my head. “I … don’t … even know how to respond to that logic.”
    â€œIt’s fine,” she says with a dismissive wave of her hand, moving further along the counter to where a pile of chopped vegetables sits beside an empty dish. “I’ve decided you’re not that pretty after all. It was just the gold hair and eyes. Kinda dazzling and overwhelming at first.”
    â€œSo … does that mean you’ve decided I’m not that mean after all?”
    She flicks her hand and the vegetables jump into the dish. “Yeah.”
    â€œBut you still don’t like me.”
    She shrugs, performs another twirl in the air with her hand, and watches the dish of vegetables put itself into the oven. “I’m getting over that part.”
    â€œReally?” I sit down at the table and cross my arms. “It does not feel like it, I can tell you that.”
    â€œJeez, just give me a bit of time, okay?”
    â€œFine. But for now, it would be great if you could keep your snide comments to yourself. I don’t want to be the only one making an effort to be friendly.”
    She turns around, leans against the counter, and considers me. “I guess I could try that.”
    â€œThanks,” I say, eyeing her warily. I didn’t expect her to agree to that. She continues watching me. After several uncomfortable moments, I ask, “Now what? Are you holding back all the comments you’d really like to fire my way?”
    She tilts her head. “You completed your first mission last night, right?”
    â€œYeah,” I say uncertainly. “The baron’s daughter and the invitation.”
    She nods slowly. “Did anyone tell you about the tattoo tradition?”
    â€œTattoo tradition?”
    â€œWe each got a tattoo to commemorate our first completed mission after joining the team.”
    â€œGaius has a tattoo? And Lumethon?”
    The corner of her mouth curls up into what could almost pass for a smile. “Theirs are in more discreet locations. So, what do you say?” She walks to the table and wraps her inked fingers around the back of a chair. “Ready for that first tattoo? You’re not properly one of the team until you do it.”
    â€œSo … you’re offering to tattoo me?”
    â€œUh huh,” she says, nodding slowly as if I’m stupid.
    I had thought my first tattoo would come from Chase. The phoenix he drew. But if this is a team tradition, I don’t want to turn my nose up at it, and I can save the phoenix for Chase. Unless … unless this is a trick and Ana’s planning to tattoo some horrible, permanent image onto my body, like an ogre’s skull. “Um …” I would ask Chase, but I don’t have the ring on at the moment, and Ana will know exactly what I’m doing if I put it on right now. She’ll know I don’t trust her, and I can kiss goodbye to this fragile first step toward friendship she’s offering me—if that’s what this is.
    â€œWell?” she asks. “I