“I noticed.”
He stroked my shoulder. “Your tattoo faded. I can barely see it.”
I turned my head, trying to get a look at the raven. The black lines of the design had faded to pale gray; the sword, and the words Дар Ворона, Raven’s Gift, were almost gone.
“Doolittle says it’s because of all the medmagic he’s been subjecting me to over the last weeks. A lot of my scars faded, too. It’s probably for the best. It was a cheesy tattoo anyway. Every time someone saw it, they’d ask what it said and why did I have Cyrillic letters on my shoulder . . .” I clamped my mouth shut.
“What?”
The Cyrillic alphabet was created by two Greek monks around AD 900. Before the Cyrillic alphabet, the Slavs used Glagolitic script, which took root in strokes-and-incisions writing—Slavic runes.
The inventor’s last name was Kamen. Kamen meant “stone” in Russian. Usually Russian names ended on “-ov” or “-ev,” but it was possible his family had changed their last name to make it easier for an English speaker.
I dialed the guardroom. Barabas picked up the phone, his slightly ironic tenor amused before I even had a chance to say anything. “Yes, Consort?”
“Why is everyone calling me Consort?”
“Jim designated you as Consort in official papers. You don’t want to be called Mate, calling you Alpha is confusing, and ‘Beast Lady’ makes people laugh.”
“Why is it necessary to attach a title to me at all?”
“Because you are attached to the Beast Lord.”
Behind me Curran chuckled to himself. Apparently I amused everyone this evening. “I know it’s late, but could you find a book for me? It’s called The Slavs: Study of Pagan Tradition by Osvintsev.”
Barabas sighed dramatically. “Kate, you make me despair. Let’s try that again from the top, except this time pretend you are an alpha.”
“I don’t need a lecture. I just need the book.”
“Much better. Little more growl in the voice?”
“Barabas!”
“And we’re there. Congratulations! There is hope for you yet. I will look into the book.”
I hung up the phone and glared at Curran. “What’s so funny?”
“You.”
“Laugh while you can. You have to sleep eventually, and then I’ll take my revenge.”
“You’re such a violent woman. Always with the threats. You should look into some meditation techniques . . .”
I jumped on the couch and put the Beast Lord into an armlock.