He looked like he was about to ask the others for one when Lace took one out of her pocket and sparked it. “I got you.” She stepped forward to light his cigarette for him.
Loren found herself looking away, putting her full attention on the damp ground at her feet, as if the action of Lace lighting his cigarette was incredibly intimate, despite that it didn’t look that way for either of them.
At least…not for Darien.
But she forgot all about it when Darien took an incoming call that sounded important. When he hung up, he made an immediate beeline for his car, motioning for Loren to follow him.
“That was Kyle,” Darien told the others, taking one last drag on his cigarette before flicking it to the ground. Loren hurried after him. “He got a lead on our wannabe Darkslayers.”
Loren’s mouth popped open. Was she finally getting some insight into what Darien was investigating in his spare time?
“I assume that means we’re going to Diablo?” Travis asked.
Darien nodded once, and the others made for their vehicles.
“What’s Diablo?” Loren asked Darien when she made it to the passenger door.
“A tattoo parlour.” It was to the others that he called, “We’ll meet you out front. See you guys in a few.”
—
Diablo Tattoo was on Arcterus Boulevard, not far from the Temple of the Scarlet Star. Sandwiched between a laundromat and a store that sold handmade carpets, Diablo could easily be missed by anyone who was new to the area, for it was identifiable only by the horned gargoyle face that hung above the barred front door.
As Darien parallel parked in front of the parlour, the others pulling up in their vehicles behind him, Loren managed to locate the business name in window art that was designed to look like spray-paint. Surrounded by so many geometric designs, the wordDiablowas hard to make out at all.
“Did this Kyle guy hide his business name on purpose or was it on accident?” she asked Darien.
Darien undid his seatbelt and slid a pistol into the holster at the front of his pants. It took an embarrassing amount of effort for Loren not to stare—and an even more embarrassing amount not to imagine him undoing a different type of buckle. “Maybe he did it accidentally on purpose,” the slayer said as he opened his door.
Loren blinked. He merely winked at her before stepping out of the car. She hurried to follow him, wishing she wasn’t wearing heels, wishing she wasn’t wearing a skirt this short, as men who looked like they’d just got out of jail turned to stare at her as they walked by her on the street. Wearing an outfit like this to the Avenue of the Scarlet Star was one thing, but here...
Darien paused out front of the door to Diablo and turned the face of his watch until it made a near inaudible click. He held it up to his mouth and said, “Wait here. I’ll let you know if I need any assistance.”
Loren looked over her shoulder, at the Devils that were waiting in their vehicles. She couldn’t see them behind the window tint, but she knew it was them who Darien was communicating with.
And then he swung open the barred glass door of the tattoo parlour and strode inside, Loren right on his heels. Bells chimed, announcing their entrance.
The parlour was fairly crowded given the time of day. Nearly every one of the chairs had a person in it, most of them burly warlocks and werewolves getting full sleeves or detailed backpieces of extraordinary ink. The ceilings were low, the flooring made of cherry wood. It took Loren’s eyes a few seconds to adjust to the dim lighting, for only a few sparse antique chandeliers of blown glass lit the parlour, their glow as warm as the floors. An L-shaped wooden desk was located at the back of the room, where a curly-haired hellseher with a full beard and a heavy build sat flipping through paperwork.
Loren was all too aware of the eyes that tracked her every movement as she followed Darien to the desk. Darien, on the other hand, seemed entirely at ease here. This must be where he got all his tattoos done.
The hellseher sitting at the desk glanced up at the sound of their approach. “Oh good, you’re here.”
“Oh good, you have news for me,” Darien said with a teasing smile, keeping the volume of his voice low enough that nobody except this hellseher would hear him. That voice, so rich and low, reminded Loren of the way he’d spoken to Miss Prickles in the apothecary. The sound of it had stopped her dead in her tracks, made her stand up straighter…and made certain areas of her body tingle like never before.
The man gave a dramatic roll of his eyes as he pushed out from the desk and stood. “Even when it’s something serious, you still need to imitate me.”
“Imitation is a form of flattery,” Darien said, leaning against the desk. “Besides, you know I love you, Kyle.”
“Correction,” Kyle said as he lumbered out from behind the desk. “You love myinformation.”He made his way to a narrow corridor. “Wait here and I’ll be back in two seconds.”
As they waited, Loren began to sense that there were eyes stabbing into her. She slowly turned around to face the room of tattoo artists and their clients.
Every one of those clients was staring at her, looking her over from head to toe with slimy and appreciative expressions, as if she was something to eat. Their gazes lingered the longest on her ass and legs, on full display for them. She had the same feeling an animal might get from being gawked at in a zoo.
She turned back around to face the desk, trying as discreetly as possible to move her arms up and cover her chest. It was the least she could do, the only thing she was in control of right now.
Her uneasiness did not escape Darien. His focus zeroed in on her tightly crossed arms before he turned around to look at the room of warlocks and werewolves, his hands casually resting in the pockets of his unzipped leather jacket. A territorial look flickered across his face, and Loren found her heart skipping full beats at the sight of it. He looked like he would gladly get his knuckles bloody for her if it came down to that.
