Some things are permanent. Indelible. And they cannot be changed back.
Joy Malone learns this the night she sees a stranger with all-black eyes across a crowded room—right before the mystery boy tries to cut out her eye.
Instead, the wound accidentally marks her as property of Indelible Ink, and this dangerous mistake thrusts Joy into an incomprehensible world—a world of monsters at the window, glowing girls on the doorstep and a life that will never be the same.
Now, Joy must pretend to be Ink’s chosen one—his helper, his love, his something for the foreseeable future…and failure to be convincing means a painful death for them both.
Swept into a world of monsters, illusion, immortal honor and revenge, Joy discovers that sometimes, there are no mistakes.
Somewhere between reality and myth lies…
THE TWIXT
The lightest touch on her quivering eyelid was like butterfly wings, hardly anything at all. Her lashes fluttered against his thumb. She could feel the closeness of his palm, her head full of his scent. He feathered the tips of her eyelashes and followed their edge to the bridge of her nose—tracing a long line down and resting a hush on her lips.
Like a kiss.
Her eyes opened. She stared straight into Ink.
He dropped his hand.
“Thank you.”
They were both surprised when he said it.
Ink stood up, backing away cautiously—Joy kept her eyes on him as he moved, step by step. It looked as if he might do something, as if he wanted to maybe say something more, but he waved a hand and stepped forward into the breach, disappearing as he’d come.
Joy stared at the space where he’d been, doing everything in her power not to touch the side of her face.
Indelible
Dawn Metcalf
To Maestro & The Pigtailed Overlord,
Mommy loves you!
Contents
CHAPTER ONE
THE MUSIC BEAT hard against Joy’s ribs. She could feel the rhythm in her chest and the bass in her teeth. The Carousel spun slowly, crammed with mirrors and frantic dancers. It was dark. It was light. It was dark. It was light. Joy felt the music call to her, dizzying and loud.
“Isn’t this great?” Monica shouted next to Joy’s ear. They stood just inside the nimbus of carnival lights and techno grind. Behind them, the Tilt-A-Whirl roared.
Joy nodded. “It’s wild!”
“Well, come on, wild child! Time for fun.”
Monica loved fun. And Joy loved her for it. Despite the craziness of the past year, Monica had stuck by her, so even if Joy wasn’t too sure about going to the spring fair among several dozen rabid cool-hunters prowling the Carousel on the Green, she wasn’t about to ruin it. Instead of ballroom dancing classes or community theater-in-the-round, the Carousel was attempting to become Glendale’s hottest indoor/outdoor scene. People pumped their fists in the air and smartphones caught the rave on glowing screens. Joy checked hers for the time.
“Well, fun better get started. Dad’s only letting me stay out till eleven.”
Monica snorted and smoothed the edges of her razor-cut bob. “You’d think you were the one who skipped out.” Then she winced and whispered, “Sorry.”
Joy shrugged. “’S’okay.”
Lots of parents split after their last kid went off to college. Mom could’ve waited two years before running off to L.A., but by then, her twenty-six-year-old graphic artist, Doug, might have been considered too old for a cougar like her. As she’d tried to explain before she left, she had “needs.” The memory still brought an embarrassed ache, but no tears. Joy had cried herself out months ago. Nowadays, she half expected Mom to reappear when her boy-toy turned thirty.
“Come on.” Monica tugged Joy up the incline. “Party’s wasting!”
They held hands and jumped onto the crowded dance floor. The old hardwood shivered, rotating slowly on merry-go-round gears. The Carousel was packed, but Monica nabbed a spot beneath the peeling brass ring—the only original piece left after the horses had been auctioned off. Joy edged toward the speakers as the Carousel turned. The town fair fell into purple shadow rimmed in fairy lights.
Joy moved her hips and shoulders, enjoying the thump of the music. Closing her eyes, she felt strangers’ laughter bubble up inside her as if it were her own and she popped her heels to the beat. Her ponytail brushed the back of her neck, alternately sticky and cool. Hands ringed in glow bracelets and Under 18 wristbands clutched empty cotton-candy cones and miniature teddy bears. The air smelled of hot sugar, cooking oil and sweat. Distant roller coaster screams echoed somewhere out in the glow of a thousand twinkling carnival lights. It was like swimming in a dreamworld, floating in noise.
Joy wound her long arms over her head, stretching her spine. Her hipster jeans hung loose. She’d gotten a lot thinner since Mom left, her abs tight under