Oh, that. Yeah. There had been strange splotches on her skin. She’d barely glimpsed them before they’d gone down to interrogate the woman. “It’s nothing.”
He picked up a hand towel and dried his face. “We need to leave here as soon as possible. You should eat again first.”
“And we should find out which one of you is carrying the transmitter,” Stefan said from the door of the bathroom.
“Do you ever knock?” Nikolai asked.
“It’s my house, my rules.”
Nikolai picked up the shirt the tailor had left. “What transmitter?”
“The one that brought your people down on me. My affairs and location are all but invisible to the Underveil since my energy trail is different. Only you and one other even know where I live because I chose foolishly to allow it.” He held up an electronic device. “And we found this on one of the dead Slayer males in the parking garage. It appears to operate like a tracking device.”
Nikolai stilled partway through pulling the shirt up from where he had stepped into it. Like Elena’s, the shoulder over the arm with the cord buttoned, so it had to be pulled on from below, rather than over the head. “The vampires that attacked us had one, too.” He nodded to his discarded, blood-splattered pants still lying where he had abandoned them for his bath. He pulled the shirt up the rest of the way. “It’s in the back left pocket.”
Stefan eyed the pants in a heap on the floor, face placid. “I’ll take your word for it. The transmitter is most likely inside one of your cell phones.”
“Elena doesn’t have a phone with her. My phone is in the pants.”
“I recommend you allow me to dispose of it. I have several prepaid cell phones I use as what my assistant, Bridgette, likes to call burner phones when I don’t want to be tapped, recognized, or tracked.”
What on earth would he do that would be so underground as to need a phone like that? Elena resisted scratching, but pressed her palm to her chest to quell the burning.
Nikolai grabbed her wrist. Then, he reached up with his other hand and pulled the neckline of the shirt down several inches before she could react or knock his hands away. His eyes widened. “Holy shit.”
She almost screamed when she followed his gaze. Inky markings similar in style to his stretched across her chest. Tingles of dread tickled her spine, and she was slammed by an overwhelming urge to vomit. “You did this,” she said, jerking away from his grip.
“I had nothing to do with it.” Nikolai held his hands up in surrender.
“May I see?” Stefan’s touch was gentle and tentative, as opposed to Nikolai’s grab-and-yank style. She couldn’t help but glare at Nikolai while Stefan examined the skin just below her collarbone. Her captor was behind this somehow—he and his wacked-out Slayer blood. Maybe it would go away like the red in her eyes did… If only he would.
“It’s in the ancient language, just like your markings, Itzov,” Stefan said. “I’ve only ever seen them on you. Other Slayer markings are in Elven.”
Nikolai said nothing.
“Who marked you?” Stefan asked. “Very few speak or read the old tongue anymore. How came you to know the language of the elders?”
“I don’t. I don’t even know what my markings say exactly, but I’ve been told it’s the Prophecy of the Uniter.”
Stefan smiled. “So it seems.”
Nikolai crossed his arms over his wide chest. The T-shirt the tailor had modified hugged his muscles and made him look practically edible. Crap! Elena shook her head to clear out the hornies and replace them with common sense.
“Oh, and I suppose you’re fluent in the ancient language, Darvaak,” Nikolai said.
“I am. That and several hundred others, both human and otherworldly.” When there was no response from Nikolai, Stefan continued. “I’ve been reading your way-too-naked skin since you popped in here unannounced. You’re like a billboard; you can’t blame me. Although I’d never heard of this prophecy before, it’s proclaimed all over your body.”
Nikolai said nothing; he simply stared at Stefan.
“Aren’t you going to ask me what your markings mean exactly?” Stefan asked.
Nikolai’s eyes narrowed. “No.”
No? Elena couldn’t believe it. No way was she was going to be kept in the dark because of some one-upsmanship pissing match between these guys. “I want to know what mine mean.”
Nikolai’s gold eyes narrowed. “We must go now. It’s critical.”
“So is this,” she said. “It’s critical to me, anyway.”
Stefan turned her to face the mirror and pulled the right side of the collar of her blouse down far enough to expose part of the markings. “The ancient language is written similarly to Egyptian hieroglyphics, with images representing items or concepts rather than letters of an alphabet. This”—he trailed his fingers over a shape that looked like a curved talon or blade—“is a symbol for the beings of earth. Humans, if you will.”