Dark Ink Tattoo: Episode 2 Read online

  “You didn’t – “ he complained, as my cock slid out of him, still hard.

  “I will,” I said, pushing his damp hair back, laying down on the wide couch beside him. I brought up my free hand and licked his cum off it.

  After all, life was life.

  When he’d caught his breath again he rose up on one elbow, facing me, stroking a line up and down my chest to my stomach. My erection sank and subsided, leaving me with a panging ache. “So what’s going on?”

  “Can’t a guy just need some blood some times?”

  He smiled down at me, then leaned in for a fast kiss. “Not when that guy’s you.”

  I stared up at the tastefully vaulted ceiling overhead. “A friend of mine got into some trouble. And died. Because of me.” I told him all about Bella, how we’d fucked and then she’d wanted me to spend the night to protect her. He groaned at that, knowing who I was – and groaned even more once I told him she’d been murdered after I’d gone.

  He stopped petting me. “You know that’s not your fault, Jack, right?”

  “It sure as hell feels like it.”

  “You couldn’t have stayed.”

  “I know. But – I still feel responsible.” I twisted my head to face his. “And I’m still going to punish whoever did it. As soon as I find out who they are.”

  Paco’s dark eyes searched mine, and his hand on me started up again, stroking lower and lower. “And here I was, hoping you’d spend the night.”

  “Sorry to disappoint you. Again.”

  “Jack, you’re a hell of a lot of things. But you’ve never been a disappointment.” And his hand reached down to ring my soft cock and I gasped gently. Then he leaned over and kissed me, first my eyes, then my nearest cheekbone, and licked my lips to let his tongue inside. My lips parted just as my cock stirred – his fingertips were stroking the edge around my head, feeling me, exploring me, just as he stopped kissing my mouth and started working his way down my neck.

  It was my turn to whisper his name. “Paco –“ Why hadn’t I come inside him? He’d wanted me too – I’d wanted me too. I hadn’t even bitten him yet and – his hips rocked against mine as his hand around my cock pulled it firmly – possessively – and that was it. I’d already lost one person close to me – in the cat-like way of closeness I allowed myself, now that I was this. If I was, as Bella had so often claimed, bad luck, I couldn’t stand it if anything of me harmed Paco.

  His mouth was at my collarbone, kissing me where I wanted to bite him. “Paco,” I warned again.

  “Shut up, Jack,” he murmured from against me. “I know you.” His moving hand sank to stroke my balls and rub the soft spot between my ballsack and my asshole – and the hunger rose in me and -- I twisted toward him, bringing his face up to mine with both hands to kiss hard. He purred as my body pressed against him, as my cock rose up between us like a cobra. I pushed it down as I lowered myself, my skin sliding on his still slick with sweat, needing to angle myself into him again. I grabbed his top leg and pulled it high over my hips, then cupped his ass as he thrust toward me and my cock sank into velvet again.

  He moaned as I pushed in, and my cock felt like it was home. “God, Paco –“

  “I know,” he said, rocking off and on.

  It was impossible not to look at him this way, to see the earnest intensity of his eyes, how much he trusted me, how much he knew I’d always make him feel good – even if it hurt a little bit along the way. I kissed him then, under his jaw, against his chest, anywhere I could taste him, I craved it almost as much as I craved blood –

  But not quite.

  The hunger -- I could feel my own blood rushing inside my veins, as much as I could feel his, it was like our hearts were timed, counting the same beats as my cock fucked his ass – my fangs descended and I panted, “I’m gonna –“

  “Do it,” he said – and I did.

  On an upward thrust, as I was claiming his ass again, I bit down. There was an art to it, I didn’t want to damage him, I only wanted him open – as open to my mouth as his ass was to my cock. I bit down, then latched on, clutching him bodily, feeling him spasm with the pain even as he knew it was coming, then the taste of his hot hot blood spilling into my mouth, so indescribably intense – my cock got so hard in him it felt like it might burst if I didn’t come right then and –

  For a perfect moment we were like some holy circuit, me drinking life out of him while I pounded more life in, my cum shooting deep with each thrust and spasm – and I went somewhere else. That place you only reach at the peak of certain highs, when you feel invulnerable, when talking to god and flying seem possibly real, a sharp clarity on everything in life -- and then I sank back to Paco’s couch again, where his hands were clenched tight, one in my hair, the other on my ass, him grinding himself against me, until he moaned and spasmed around my softening cock. “Good,” I whispered, knowing he’d cum again -- I could smell its earthy scent and felt the heat of it between us as it tried to stick us together though our breaths fell out of sync.

  I lifted my head up from his neck, my lips rimed with his blood. “Thanks.”

  He looked down at me, his own eyes glazed. “You’re welcome,” he said, and I sank my head back down.

  Chapter 3

  I stalked back to my car in the parking lot. Something about being near Gray had pulled my wolf to the surface, and she was as pissed as I was – with me, for Rabbit’s sake? Or against me, for leaving Gray? She was such a separate thing from me, I never felt like I could control her, and I had no idea.

  I sank into my beat up Honda four door and tried to push her down inside. Her being so close frightened me, which was why I kept a small bottle of colloidal silver and an eyedropper inside my glove box. I opened it up, stirred around inside for it, didn’t find it, tossed everything out, becoming frantic – it had to be here somewhere – I started looking underneath the passenger side seat, and then my own, and missed an officer walking up to me till he tapped on the driver side window.

  “Ma’am, is everything okay?”

  I startled, guilty only of looking guilty, like I was searching for drugs or a gun, and rolled down my old-fashioned window with the crank.

  “What do you want?” my wolf growled at the man. And then, as if startled at the sound of her own voice, she left me. His eyes narrowed and I did the only thing I could think of to disarm him – I cried.

  They were genuine tears. How naive had I been to think I’d fallen off Gray’s radar? And now he knew that Rabbit was his son. Moving might have saved us that – and all the decisions I did or didn’t make for the past seven years washed over me, wracking sobs from my chest.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, making an indeterminate gesture of apology between us before walking back the other way.

  I kept crying until I couldn’t anymore, rolled up my window, and drove home.

  * * *

  This morning I’d managed to dodge my mother’s pointed stares as I got Rabbit out the door – I knew I wouldn’t be so lucky when I got back, and I was right, her scooter was stationed in the entry way, to catch me when I returned.

  “Everything okay?” she asked, taking in my haggard look.

  “Yeah.” I pulled off the sweat shirt – my mother had already seen, and disapproved of, all my tattoos. I had to pull myself together, flat iron my hair, and get some eyeliner on. If it were only me tattooing, freelancing like I used to, I wouldn’t care, but as a boss I had to project a certain amount of authority. Especially today – after the shop being vandalized last night – my people needed me to be strong.

  My mother’s expression continued to be quizzical. “So – late night?”

  I sighed. I hadn’t told her about Dark Ink’s window, I didn’t want her to worry, I’d made her worry enough already in her life. “Yeah.”

  “Good late? Or bad late?” She looked me up and down.

  “Good late. Kind of,” I said, dodging around her to jog upstairs and turn the flat iron on.

 
“What’s that mean?” she shouted up.

  “It means I’m busy, mom,” I shouted back, pulling on dark jeans and a red scoop-neck T. I washed my face and smeared streaks of concealer under my tired eyes, I was gonna need it today. When I walked back down stairs looking pulled together her scooter hadn’t budged an inch, and now her arms were crossed.

  “I just want to know when we’re going to meet him is all.”

  “I don’t know,” I said, truthfully. “It hasn’t been the right time.” And it might never be the right time. I’d watched Mark drop fifty thousand dollars on a poker game the prior night – no matter how good in bed we were for each other, he was entirely out of my league. Not to mention the fact that he didn’t know anything about Gray….

  “It’s just that I can see you talking yourself out of this one.”

  “Mom,” I complained.

  “No, you do this, Angie – you find a nice guy, decide he’s too nice for you, and then dump him.” Her words hurt like she was repeatedly running her scooter into my shin. “If I could afford to send you to some kind of counseling, I would.” She revved her scooter closer and reached up to pat my cheek softly. “You’re a good girl, Angela. You deserve some happiness.”

  I did. I knew I did – but – I forced a smile for her sake. “Thanks, Mom,” I said, and leaned down to kiss her forehead. “Now I gotta get to work –“ I whirled for the door.

  “Stay outta the prisons and the pool halls!” she shouted after me, like she always did.

  Good thing she didn’t know I’d already been to prison once today.

  * * *

  I drove to Dark Ink and fought the urge to thumb through my phone for window shops at every red light. I knew Mattie would have the parlor cleaned by now – hopefully it wasn’t completely freezing with just taped tarp where the window’d been – how expensive would just a plain window be? We could paint the “Dark Ink” and “24/7” on it ourselves, later, everyone I employed was an artist, including me. But every minute the shop was too cold to work in – or looked too trashy – was more walk-in clientele we’d miss. It didn’t matter so much for me and the other established artists, but the new kids needed cash for flash to stay alive.

  I pulled up in back, hopped out of my car, and ran around, remembering to change to a more boss-like stroll just in time to see a completely new window where the old one had been.

  Our name was even bigger on this one – as was the claim that we were Vegas’s only “All-Nite Tattoo”, in tasteful silver cursive below.

  I walked up to the window and stared at it, afraid to touch what must be very fresh paint. Inside Mattie saw me, and started waving.

  As if in a dream, I walked over and through the door. Two artists had active guns, one was doing a consult, and I heard the muffled yelp of someone being pierced in back.

  “Nice work, boss!” Mattie shouted, the second I was through. He pulled his hand out of its glove and brought it up to his lips for a wolf whistle. The other artists looked up, saw me, and whooped or shouted.

  Mattie said something to his client, then dismounted the chair he sat on, and started patting the pockets on his leather vest as he came over. “They installed it this morning, and left this for you,” he said, handing me an envelope.

  I took it from him. I didn’t dare open it on the parlor floor.

  “That’s, uh, good thing, right?”

  I ran a hand through my hair. “Yeah. Of course.” Unless it’d been bought with Pack blood-money as some sort of perverse apology or way for Gray to make me think I owe him. I folded the letter and put it in my back pocket and scanned our current clients. None of them looked rough enough to run with the Pack, but a lot could change in seven years. So I kept my chin high and walked over to my station – I’d been in such a rush yesterday, I hadn’t put my inks back, and I needed to do some sketches, one of my regulars wanted a tiger on her right shoulder. It was just about the only blank skin that she had left, and it needed to flow with all the other the work she had.

  Jack’s station was on the way to mine. He’d left out a half-drawn picture of the rising sun. It was beautifully rendered, you could almost feel the sunlight radiating off the page, gentle smears of pink and orange. I knew on the right skin, pale enough, he wouldn’t even do any outlining, he’d make it look like watercolors. Jack had some devotees due to word of mouth – Vegas was a 24/7 town, and night-shift workers didn’t want to wake up early on their off days for tats – but not a lot of them, not after 3 AM. I’d offered him more lucrative daytime slots – more lucrative for us both, since I kept a slice – but he’d always rebuffed me in his devil-may-care way.

  I traced a corner of the sun he’d drawn with one finger. I had pale enough skin. And I had space, right over my hip. I imagined Jack touching me with gloved hands, felt things best left quiet stir and – my eyes caught sight of a used condom in his trashcan.

  Because of course there was.

  I brought a hand up to rub my temple. If he was shooting porn here, I would kill him.

  I made my way to my station and gave up on worrying if the Pack could see me, opening the letter as I sat down. It was a crisp sheet of official cream stationary, carefully folded. I unfolded it slowly, and for the first time in weeks got something good in the mail:

  Can’t wait to see you tonight.

  M

  Chapter 4

  “I’d remind you that you can stay, but I already know that you’re going, aren’t you,” Paco shouted at me from his living room.

  He’d heard the shower stop – and I came out with an amazingly plush towel around my waist. Paco’s boyfriend had as excellent taste in couches and towels as he did in boyfriends.

  “Yeah, sorry –“I apologized. I had to go, while Paco’s blood was still singing inside me. There were some things I could only do after a fresh feed.

  “Yeah, I know,” Paco said, with a tease.

  I dried myself off and swung the towel out to him. “You missed a spot –“ I said, swirling my hand over my stomach, where his was still sticky with cum.

  He swatted it away. “I’m waiting for the Oreo’s to give me strength.” He’d retrieved them from where they’d landed earlier.

  “You just like smelling like me.”

  “Like us,” he emphasized. “Although I’m glad we didn’t make it to the bedroom. I might be too tired to change the sheets. As it is –“he looked at the disarray of couch cushions behind him, “I’m going to be tipping Imelda extra tomorrow.”

  I grinned. “Hey, so –“

  Before I could say another word, he jumped in. “Here it comes.”

  “What?”

  Paco set the Oreos aside and stood, and I appreciated him anew. He’d put on forty pounds of muscle since we’d first met – he’d been a scrawny club kid, and I’d been looking for easy prey, when he’d awakened a different hunger in me I hadn’t known I’d had. Over the years, Paco’d become one of Vegas’s most sought after bodyguards, and now he had a long-term contract with the Fleur de Lis, Vegas’s newest, classiest, casino. From here, with the tasteful lighting from above, I could see the puckered scar where a bullet had found his shoulder instead of a client’s heart.

  And me? I hadn’t changed. At all.

  “You’re a proud asshole, you know that?” he told me, falling back into drill sergeant mode.

  “The proudest,” I said, laying claim. Proudest that I was Paco’s only, ever, top. I could go either way in the right situation, but I was the only one that ever saw that man face down.

  “So now that we’re agreed – yeah, I’ll ask my friends on the force about Bella for you. There aren’t violent murders in Summerlin too often, my curiosity’ll seem natural.”

  “Thanks, Paco. And….”

  * * *

  I walked out of the magician’s house, holding keys to Paco’s car and wearing one of the magician’s long sleeved shirts.

  * * *

  I drove Paco’s dark sedan to Summerlin and parked a few bl
ocks away from Bella’s house. My car was nothing but noticeable, and there was a chance its engine’d woken a few people up the prior night coming and going – I didn’t want anyone thinking I’d returned to the scene of the crime.

  I made sure on my way in to be unseen, which was easy, Paco’s willing blood had my powers flowing at full blast. The magic that made you a vampire -- it was like always being lucky. Beautiful women would angle across a room to you. Dice would roll in your favor. And what you weren’t already given you could most often charm.

  Someone, cops or a neighbor, had tacked some wood up over where Bella’s door had been. I took some solace in the fact the lock I’d set hadn’t had a chance to work – the door’d been ripped off its hinges and flung aside, pressing down a square patch of clover in the yard.

  I looked around again then set my fingers against the plywood they’d replaced it with and tugged and the nails unsealed from the surrounding wood. The second it was wide enough I slunk in.

  I could smell the fight before I saw it, my eyes adjusting to the darker space indoors. Bella’s fear, her blood – blood I’d always wanted to know, and held back from – and the scent of her attackers. Someone – someones, at least two of them, but they smelled the same. Grease, like from a car shop, and something else, more animal and musty.

  I made careful not to touch anything, although as a vampire I didn’t have fingerprints – almost like the magic that ruled us knew we were destined for lives of crime – because if there was something the police could do, I wanted them to be able to eventually do it. I only wanted to do it faster -- because the punishments I could dole out were ever so much more just.

  There were signs of a struggle, strewn tarot cards, shattered crystal skulls. Her laptop was gone, and I didn’t know who’d taken it, the attackers or the police. And in the bedroom, where I’d fucked her less than a day ago, a massive blood stain and a sense of death.