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“What about me?” he asks in an amused tone. He knows exactly what I mean, so I shoot him a look, and he says, “Yes, she knows I’m a big, bad creature of the night.” He laughs. “She’s glamoured to keep my secret.”
I nod. “Did she do the vines and roses on your arm?”
“Yep. She’s done all of my ink in the last fifteen years or so. Being immortal means having to find a new artist every handful of decades.”
“Wouldn’t it be easier just to turn one of them?” I ask without thinking. Of course that would mean taking their life away from them, but Lex and the others have already proven they’re not above that. Case in point: me.
“Turning someone into a vampire isn’t a small thing, Calla,” Lex says, pulling off one of the downtown streets. We drive down a narrow alley between two buildings, barely big enough for his car. He slows to a stop where the alley opens up to a courtyard near the back of the buildings and kills the engine.
I catch my bottom lip between my teeth and pull at a loose thread on my shirt. “Will you tell me how it’s done?”
“Why?” His voice has a lilt of amusement to it. “Are you thinking of joining the eternity club?”
My mouth goes dry, and I immediately shake my head. “I just… I was curious is all.”
Lex drums his fingers against the steering wheel. “It’s a process. There’s a venom in our bite that needs to be coursing through your veins—along with our blood—when you die. You’d awaken weak and vulnerable, but once you drank human blood, you’d be stronger and faster than ever before. The first feed has to be directly from the vein, and a newbie vampire needs to drink so much blood to complete the transition that the human rarely survives.”
My stomach clenches with unease. “That’s intense,” I say in a quiet voice, wiping my palms against my pants before glancing toward the brick building with a flickering neon red TATTOO sign in the window. “We should probably go in.”
Lex watches me for a moment, his expression calculating, before he nods and gets out of the car. A second later, he opens my door and offers his hand. I take it and get out, and we walk across the dingy, dark courtyard to a large metal door. Lex bangs his fist against it a few times before opening it and ushering me inside.
My senses are overwhelmed by the sharp scent of antiseptic, which I guess is a good thing. The place is clean at least. I stay close to Lex but look around the small space. The walls are a deep red and mostly covered in tattoo sketches of all different sizes, some in color and others done in black ink. The floor is checkered tiles, and there’s a brown couch directly to my right, under the window with the neon sign. Old rock music fills the room, and the fluorescent lighting along the exposed ceiling dims and brightens every few seconds.
A curvy woman with a blond pixie cut who looks to be in her late thirties based on the faint wrinkles around her eyes and mouth pushes aside a black curtain and steps into the room. She’s wearing a black Rolling Stones T-shirt, ripped jeans, and white Doc Martens. “Lexington, you beautiful bastard, it’s good to see you.”
Lexington?
I arch a brow at him. “Is that your real name?”
He rolls his eyes, but his lips are curled into a grin. “Nope, but she’s about to hold a needle against my skin, so she can call me whatever the hell she wants.” Lex steps forward and pulls the woman into a hug. “What’s new, Scar?” he asks, stepping back.
She shrugs, reaching behind an old wood counter, and the music quiets. “Not a damn thing.” Her pale blue eyes slide to me, and I can’t help but admire the dark purple makeup look she’s rocking. “Who’s this? You don’t usually bring anyone when you come to visit me.”
I force a smile, but something in my chest tightens at her words, and I’m not sure what to make of that. “I’m Calla. It’s, um, nice to meet you.”
She purses her bright red lips. “Hmm, okay, Calla.” She looks me over. “You got any ink?”
“No,” I tell her, “though I’ve always wanted to get something. I’m just not sure what.”
She nods before turning her attention back to Lex. “Give me ten minutes. I’m almost set up.”
“Thanks, Scar.”
Scarlett disappears behind the curtain again, and I walk around the room, looking over the artwork on the walls. It’s mostly skulls, flowers, and quotes, but mixed in are some more unique pieces with animals and languages I can’t read. Scarlett is undeniably talented. No wonder Lex comes here.
Before long, she returns and leads us back to a small room with more art covering the walls and a black leather chair that reminds me of one you’d see in a dental office. There’s a stool on wheels where Scarlet sits, pulling a tray over as Lex drops into the chair and swings his legs onto it.
I lean against the wall instead of taking the other rolling stool and watch the two of them chat softly as Scarlett pulls on black gloves. She preps the needle and picks up what I gather is a stencil, and Lex pulls his shirt off, flipping it over the back of the chair.
My eyes drop to his lean abs and end up stuck there. I swallow hard and press my lips together, forcing myself to tear my gaze away and instead focus on Scarlett as she presses the stencil to the left side of Lex’s collarbone. She peels it away a moment later, leaving a black outline of vines that look as if they’ll connect to the design that trails up his arm and over his shoulder. She hands him a mirror, and he nods at her before handing it back.
The buzz of the tattoo gun fills the room, and Lex grins at me.
“What?” I say.
“You don’t need to stand all the way over there.” He pats the stool next to him.
“I’m good.” I’m curious about tattoos, sure, but I don’t need to see the needle piercing his skin over and over at close range.
