could have at least expressed a bit of fucking concern about the issue of your safety. We practically had to drag information out of them.”
She blinked at the vehemence in his voice. “Blood relative or not, I’m an outsider; they’re not going to want to share lair business with outsiders.”
Tanner entered the club first and led her down the basement stairs and over to a door that was guarded by two powerfully built demons. With a respectful nod at Tanner, they parted and punched in the keycode for the elevator behind them. The metal doors instantly slid open.
Devon put her hand on the rail as the elevator began to smoothly descend. Already, the tension inside her started to ebb—heading for work always did that for her. She knew she was lucky to be able to claim that she adored her job. Although she specialized in piercings, she’d also been Raini’s apprentice for a while. Her apprenticeship had ended four months ago, and she was now a fully-fledged tattooist.
Tanner folded his arms. “You don’t seem to get along well with Reena.”
“We’re close in age, so I think she felt threatened when I first came into the picture. Like I’d replace her in Finn’s affections or something. She was competitive, which got annoying fast. She lost the petty streak over the years, but she never ‘took’ to me.”
“And Kaye?”
“Kaye’s pretty much indifferent to my existence. She’s a free, directionless spirit who’s wrapped up in her own world. So long as Finn continues supplying her with credit cards and paying for her condo, she’ll be blissfully happy.”
“What about the oldest, Spencer?”
“He’s very self-focused, and all he really cares about is preparing himself to take over from Finn one day. If I asked Spencer for a favor, he’d probably do it for me. But not out of love, and he’d no doubt try to extract a favor from me in exchange.”
Moments later, there was a ping, and then the shiny doors slid open once again. Hello, demonic paradise. There was a seemingly endless strip of stores, bars, casinos, clubs, eateries, restaurants, hotels, and strip clubs throughout the Underground—most of which didn’t have front walls, allowing people to see inside. There were also things you would not expect to find, including a rodeo and a combat circle.
Tanner walked in front of Devon, protecting her from being bumped by pedestrians. It wasn’t long before they arrived at the tattoo studio. As it was next door to the cutest coffeehouse and wasn’t too far from the shopping mall, Devon considered Urban Ink to be very nicely situated. She usually met up with the girls at the coffeehouse before work of a morning, and she was bummed that she’d missed it.
Two scowling, badass looking males stood near the studio’s front door, their expressions daring the world to come at them. They nodded at Tanner in greeting.
“Devon, meet Enzo and Lex,” said Tanner. “They’re members of my Force, and they’ll be watching the studio today.”
She barely had time to say hello before the pooch splayed his hand on her back and herded her toward the door. The bell above her head jangled as she pushed it open. She stepped inside, releasing a long breath as the familiar, comforting scents of ink, paint, and disinfectant swirled around her, smoothing over the sharp edges of her antsy mood and settling her feline.
Urban Ink was like a second home to Devon. She loved everything about it—the artsy/biker/rock theme, the checkered glass partitions between the tattoo stations, the metal art on the white walls that were also enlarged copies of tattoos. She wasn’t sure which of the latter she preferred best—it was a toss between the Chinese dragons and the flock of ravens.
Behind the large, freakishly tidy reception desk that doubled as a jewelry display cabinet, Khloë looked up and saluted them. “Hey, muchachos.”
The young male on the sofa snorted a laugh and then went back to scanning one of the tattoo portfolios. A burly guy sat stiffly at Raini’s station, warily eyeing the buzzing tattoo gun in her hand. Each of the stations looked similar with the black leather recliners, wall mirrors, framed licenses, and sketches and photographs of tattoos that had been tacked to the wall.
“You’re here, good,” said Harper, standing at the rear of the studio. She tipped her head toward her office. “Both of you come tell me how the meeting went.”
Devon hung her jacket on the coat rack near the vending machine and then headed to the office