Wait, does this mean you have a tattoo, too?
I waited tens of thousands of years for one of us to have the mating tattoo appear.
This morning, he left a perfectly healthy woman – who looked like his mate and wore the Immortal mating tattoo – and yet was distinctly different.
Deidre saw the strange flash of a red, glowing tattoo on the lady's exposed neck.
Like with a tattoo or something?
"You were really unhappy about…" she turned and patted the tattoo on her back.
Toby stood beside a plainly pregnant young woman with blue eyes and a tattoo across her neck that resembled the one on Deidre's back in color and otherworldly script.
While Gabriel was written at the center of the geometric designs on Deidre's shoulders, the tattoo on the woman before her bore the name Rhyn.
Gabriel was no closer to figuring what to do about the woman meant for him than when he was when he saw her mating tattoo at the bungalow.
Whatever happened, whatever this is" Deidre gestured wildly at the tattoo on her back "Gabriel will find a way to fix it.
Aside from the scarring, a maroon tattoo seemed to wind all the way around her neck.
She'd never in her life wanted a tattoo, but to have some blood-sucking, shape changing, ill-tempered, inhuman beast's name on her neck was infuriating!
She scratched at the tattoo winding around her neck, furious with him.
Her eyes were drawn to the Rhyn tattoo snaking around her neck like a collar.
My friend Ziggy's a tattoo artist in San Francisco.
Her shot nerves calmed until she rubbed a towel against the misty mirror and saw the tattoo again.
He'd claimed her as his, and the tattoo around her neck proved it.
She caught her reflection in the mirror, and the sight of the tattoo around her neck infuriated her.
She touched the tattoo at her throat.
"Missed a spot," he said, looking pointedly at the tattoo around her neck.
She looked at the tattoo on her neck and slathered lotion on it, wishing it were paint.
Her sister would have a heart attack once she saw the tattoo and found out she'd basically married the type of man Hannah'd always warned her about.
She forced herself not to cover her tattoo with her hands as she followed her sister to the second floor, where the private rooms were.
She wondered if Hannah knew yet about the Immortals and how Katie.s tattoo hadn.t been the result of a fling in Ireland as she led her sister to believe.
Katie hesitated, her hand going to the tattoo at her neck.
He waited while she rolled up her sleeve in excitement, then displayed the blood-red tattoo there.
He caressed the tattoo with a thumb and smiled, feeling genuine happiness for the first time since Andre.s death.
Something tickled her neck, and she looked down to see the first of the letters of her tattoo flutter to the ground.
Yellow and red ochre mixed with grease are coarsely smeared over the bodies, grey in coarse patterns and white in fine patterns resembling tattoo marks.
Mexican peasants regularly paint or tattoo a cross on their foreheads, and the old Armenian equivalent for destiny or fate is cakatagir or forehead-writing.
Both sexes, but especially the women, tattoo several parts of the person, and the women stain their hands and feet with the red dye of the henna.
Upon the surface is coloring; red for the Bushman, with black whisker though female; white for the European type, with black tattoo patterns.
They tattoo themselves and wear very little clothing, usually only a geestring.
Nearly all the tribes have tattoo markings on the face and body; to this rule the Ba-Kongo tribes are an exception.
The fairer tribes at the east end tattoo, no definite meaning apparently being attached to the pattern, for they welcome suggestions from Manchester.
The officers were hurriedly drinking tea and breakfasting, the soldiers, munching biscuit and beating a tattoo with their feet to warm themselves, gathering round the fires throwing into the flames the remains of sheds, chairs, tables, wheels, tubs, and everything that they did not want or could not carry away with them.
They beat the tattoo, called the roll, had supper, and settled down round the fires for the night--some repairing their footgear, some smoking pipes, and some stripping themselves naked to steam the lice out of their shirts.
She saw Damian watch the new king get his tattoo as a rite of passage, saw it again as Claire made love to the man meant to be her husband, saw it in Isac's vision as he hacked the tattooed man apart.
She had two markings on her back: One burgundy, the familiar Immortal mating tattoo, and the new one black, positioned directly beneath the original.
He read the tattoo visible through the tank top's straps.
She turned and pulled her hair aside to show him the tattoo once again.
The tattoo hadn't faded either, just like her memory of the sweet man who made love to her.
The four women looked at her, one gasping as her gaze fell to the tattoo and another paling, while the other two looked down their noses at her.
"It's an interesting tattoo," another said with forced interest.
Molly rolled one legging up to display a tattoo similar to the tattoo around Katie's neck.
He rolled up his sleeve, staring in wonder at the tattoo on his bicep.
She made out the shape of the bottom of a tattoo on his bicep, what looked like a half-sun.