Page 52 of Twice Bitten

Marinka’s shop was located in a strip center sandwiched between a Middle Eastern food market and a vape shop. The parking lot smelled like cumin and the sharp, artificial scent of banana vape cartridges. I once asked Marinka why she didn’t move to a better location. She gave me her typical annoyed look and said, “Cheap rent. Why move and pay twice as much?”

Sound logic, but the drive from the new house was getting annoying. Before the move, seeing Marinka was a ten-minute trip both ways. Now she was a half hour away. But she was the only one who could recharge the implant, and Mom had trusted her implicitly, which meant I had to as well. We didn’t need to like each other for her to do the job.

Marinka’s place was a tattoo shop on the surface and catered to both magical and non-magical clientele. She had four other artists on staff who performed the mundane work. Marinka took her clients, including me, into the back of the studio through a cleverly concealed door only she could access.

As usual, the woman greeted me with a grunt and jerked her head to follow. Marinka was a small, dark-skinned woman of indeterminate age. She had short dark hair cut into a silky bob and eyes so dark they were almost black. The odd thing about Marinka was she had no tattoos. At least none that I could see.

She always wore the same thing—a pair of wide-legged ankle pants, a tank top with a long cardigan, and a pair of thick brown boots. The colors of each changed from visit to visit, except for the boots, but I’d never seen her wear anything else.

Marinka slapped her hand against the door’s surface. It clicked open and she gestured for me to walk in.

“You leak,” she said, in her thick accent, snapping her fingers at me. “What happened?”

“Ran into some claws.” I took a seat in the chair and shrugged off my jacket.

Marinka grunted and pulled up a rolling chair. She flipped on a light and tugged on my arm, turning it to and fro.

She clicked her tongue and made some disapproving noises in her throat. “Bad damage. I fix but I cannot replace.”

I craned my head around. “You can’t replace it? Why not?”

“Not supposed to break!” she said simply, as if that explained everything.

“How long will the fix last?”

Marinka shrugged. “Until it break again.”

An exasperated laugh bubbled from me. “Marinka. Someone said this magic might attract the wrong kind of attention.”

“Someone smart. You leak and,” she lifted her fist and opened her fingers, “it go boom.”

“Boom?”

Marinka nodded gravely. “Boom.”

“Can you elaborate a little more?”

“Your mama should tell you. I cannot. She know best.”

“Mom isn’t here. You know this. There’s no one left.”

Marinka moved her chair and peered into my face, her dark eyes taking my measure. “You need people you can trust. Friends. A lover. Something.” She tapped my forearm. “They stop you from doing stupid things.”

When would people stop telling me that? “Having friends or lovers won’t help me with this.” And I’d never done anything as stupid as running into a sketchy alley before. Though, in my defense, how could I have known who’d be there?

“Yes, but they help you if everything go boom.”

“Marinka. Please. I’d rather nothing go boom.”

For a moment, I thought she’d refuse me again, but after along moment, her lips thinned. “I fix first. Then I give you paper.”

“Paper?”

A single sharp nod. “Paper. Now hush. I fix.”

Better than nothing, I supposed. “Thank you.”

She thumped me on the elbow. “Shh.”