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Keenan exchanged a look with Levi. Well, shit.

“It struck me that if she were to seek help or sanctuary from anyone, it would be you, given that you have known her since childhood,” said Gavril. “If not you, she’ll certainly contact your sentinel, Ripley—they were reasonably close at one time, I believe. As incubi are able to see through glamor, he’ll see through her disguise and know if she’s nearby. If he sees or hears anything from her, I would appreciate it if you contacted me. She needs to be brought back to the lair to face punishment for what she’s done. And we don’t want anything happening to her son.”

“I’ll tell Keenan to inform me if she attempts to reach out to him.”

Keenan noted that Knox hadn’t agreed to then pass on such information to Gavril.

“Your aid is appreciated.” Gavril said his goodbyes and rang off.

“So, Thea killed her ex to avenge what he’d done to her.” Levi looked at Keenan. “Think the reason she’s been trying to contact you lately is that she’d hoped to ask you to do it for her?”

“No idea,” replied Keenan. But if so, he’d have turned down said request. He wasn’t a hitman for hire.

“You didn’t tell Gavril she’s been in touch with you,” Larkin said to Knox.

“I wouldn’t do him even a hint of a favor—he’s never cooperated with me in the past.” Knox slid his gaze to Keenan. “When I conveyed your message to Thea yesterday, she wasn’t pleased, to say the least. She seemed desperate to speak with you, but she wouldn’t tell me why.”

“Do you think she’ll contact you?” Larkin asked Keenan.

He considered it for a moment. “Now that she’s on the run, no. She’ll be well-aware that Gavril will expect her to come to us. She’ll want to stay off his radar, and that means not doing what he would expect of her. Her best bet would be to leave the country. If she used glamor, she could wear different faces as she moved from city to city on her way out of the US.”

Larkin gave a slow nod. “I feel sorry for her kid. His world has been turned upside down. Hopefully she manages to keep him safe—the demon world is brutal toward strays.”

Yeah, Keenan knew that from personal experience.

*

“Back off, pooch, I’m trying to clean up here.” Devon shoved Tanner hard, making him plop onto the sofa. “Sit. Stay. Good dog.”

The hellhound grinned. “Ooh, you’ll pay for that, kitten.”

“Sounds promising. Now just watch TV and look pretty.”

Khloé snickered and went back to adding new pieces of jewelry to the glass display case beneath her desk.

Tanner always turned up at Urban Ink near closing time, ready to take both Harper and Devon home. While the other females tidied their stations, Khloé took responsibility for the reception area. It was the first thing people saw when they walked in—if it was messy and dirty, that would reflect on the studio itself.

She’d already swept the floor, cleaned the coffee table, and tidied the portfolios. She didn’t need to neaten her desk. Every object—the computer, the phone, the appointment book, the pen holder, the cashier’s till, and the stapler—had its own proper place, so the surface was always perfectly organized … until people started moving her shit. She hated that.

Khloé locked the jewelry case and stood. Her nose wrinkled. The scents of disinfectant and citrus cleaner laced the air, almost completely drowning out the scents of ink and paint.

She turned to Raini, who was almost done tidying her station. All the tattoo stations featured a recliner, checkered glass partitions, a large wall mirror, and framed licenses. Each of the women had also tacked photographs and sketches of tattoos near their mirror.

“Are you looking forward to your birthday?” Khloé asked the succubus.

“I’ll be spending it on Harper and Knox’s yacht with all my girls there, what’s not to like?” replied Raini, wiping down the black leather recliner.

The weekend-long booze cruise had been Khloé’s idea. They didn’t plan to spend the entire time plastered, especially since they’d have Asher with them. They’d indulge in watersports, and they’d make use of the yacht’s pool, cinema room, and stuff. But they’d certainly spend their evenings tossing back some shots.

“Speaking of my birthday, we haven’t yet gone on our trip to the mall to buy new clothes for the weekend,” added Raini.

“How about Wednesday after work?” suggested Devon, polishing a piece of metal art that adorned the white wall. There were several such pieces, including flames, Chinese dragons, a wolf head, and a guitar—all of which were also enlarged copies of tattoos. They added to the studio’s artsy/biker/rock theme.

“Works for me,” said Khloé. “Harper, can we count you in?”

“I’d give it a miss, but you’ll only whine like babies,” grumbled the sphinx, who preferred online shopping. She used the remote control to switch off the TV. “Almost done here. Just got to grab something from my office.” She set the remote control on the coffee table and then headed to the rear of the studio.

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