Velvet Haven

jacket. Her wrist was still tingling, the kind that happened after a sunburn, when the skin started to heal. She scratched, watching the old, faded white streaks turn pink. Ever since last night, when she’d touched Lauren, that patch of scarred skin had felt strange. Kind of . . . Mairi swallowed as she looked down at the marks, which were now a brighter pink, despite the fact that she’d stopped scratching them. That patch of skin almost felt . . . alive .
    “Sweet, just how you like it.”
    Mairi shoved her sleeve back down and straightened in her stool. No way was she going to come clean about her wrist.
    Rowan passed her a delicate pink china teacup and saucer. Under her arm, she carried a black leather book, its pages edged in gilt. “Okay, let’s see what we can find here,” Rowan muttered. “Symbols . . .” Licking her fingers, she flipped through the pages. “The placement on the body has to be as important as the symbols themselves,” she mumbled as she thumbed through the book. “That’s part of any ritual, getting the placement right.”
    “And how do you know this?”
    “Just sip your tea.” Rowan winked at her. “Okay, here,” she said, drawing her finger down the page as she glanced at the drawing. “So, these symbols. They aren’t necessarily satanic. They’re occult.”
    “And the difference would be?”
    “Well, it’s not a devil worshipper, so you can get that thought out of your head, but there is magick involved. Both dark and light, I sense.”
    Swallowing her tea, Mairi prayed the symbols she dreamed about were of the light variety.
    “The pentagram on her . . .”
    “Pubis,” Mairi supplied.
    “Well, the pentagram can be innocuous. It really just represents the five elements—water, air, fire, you know, that sort of thing. Sometimes the circle surrounding it can represent the sixth element, which pagans call the element of self.”
    “What about when it’s inverted, like it is on her?”
    “Hmm, that’s probably dark magick. It’s pointing to the Underworld. But you know, in the pagan religion there is no hell or devil. It’s just another world below ours.”
    “Uh-huh.” Mairi wasn’t buying it.
    “And the infinity knot—”
    “Which one is that?” Mairi asked, rubbing her inner wrist along her thigh. Thankfully Rowan was way too interested in deciphering symbols to notice she was scratching her scarred wrist.
    “The one that looks like the number eight turned on its side. It’s the most powerful Druid symbol. It represents the flow of all things—life, death, and rebirth.”
    That had been the symbol her wrist touched. Even as Rowan tapped the page with her fingertip, Mairi felt the coinciding thump against her skin. “Why is it between her breasts?” she asked, completely unnerved.
    “Hey, I never said I had the answers to everything. But I do know that the infinity knot is really powerful, and positive.”
    Mairi found herself swallowing hard and asking in a hoarse voice, “Could it be used for evil?”
    Rowan’s expression clouded. “I suppose so. Perhaps in necromancy. You know, death and sex magick.”
    Mairi shivered, pressing her wrist into her thigh to relieve the burn she felt. “And what does a snake swallowing its tail mean?”
    Rowan glanced at the paper, then back at Mairi, who looked away. That symbol had not been marked on Lauren’s body, but it continually showed up in Mairi’s dreams. It always preceded the image of the man. That, and the circle divided into three sections. Those were the hunk’s calling card.
    “The snake is called the Ouroboros. Like the infinity knot, it represents the circular nature of life, but it has more to do with the Underworld, the ancient knowledge and power to be found in darkness.”
    Tea sloshed out of her cup onto her jeans. Oh, goody, she was doing the devil in her dreams.
    Rowan steadied her and took the trembling teacup from her hand. “You dream of this symbol, don’t you?”
    “Let it go, Rowan.”
    “Dreams are powerful, Mairi. They can be an omen. A warning.”
    “They’re just stupid dreams. And I think I’ve had enough of this conversation,” she muttered. God, she had goose bumps. To think that anything she dreamed might have a connection to Lauren’s gruesome murder was just too much.
    “Mairi,” Rowan whispered, reaching for her hand. “I just want to help you better understand your dreams.”
    “It’s stress, that’s all. I’ve been working too much and I’m