Page 51 of Demon's Angel

Back in my own room I indulge in a very long shower. Fuck, if thinking of her having my property patch inked on her skin gets me this hard, how will I be able to control myself when I see the real thing?

Chapter Seventeen

Violet

I’ve never considered getting a tattoo. Not that I’ve a particular reason for being against it. The thought of needles doesn’t upset me, it’s just never been the right time or place, and no design I particularly wanted. When Demon first suggested it, I was horrified. Me, having his name permanently inked on my body? A constant reminder that it was all fake?

He’d threatened me, but I know him. He’d never have followed through. Might have rescinded his offer to look after me personally, but he wouldn’t have sent me and Theo away penniless and exposed. Not down to the nothing he feels for me, of course, but his promise to Nathan.

I’d bargained for two things. There were a couple of thoughts driving them. Firstly, I’ve always found intricate tattoos intriguing, and have often fancied trying my hand at that style of drawing. Indeed, during some of my lectures I’d doodled a few designs. Secondly, the women had told me if I wanted Demon, I should go after him with every weapon I could bring to bear. If his only objection is that I’m more like a sister to him, then I need to replace that thought in his mind with the fact I’m all woman. How better to have him reminded time and again that I’m his? That I’ve lusted after him all my life made giving in easier. I can’t think of finding a man who’d match up to him. The substitutes I’d gone with previously had all been failures. There’s never been anyone else, and I can’t imagine there would be anyone in the future, whose name I’d agree to carry forever. If, when this marriage ends, as it will do, I’ll have the tattoo to help me remember that once, even if for only a short while, I was Demon’s.

He’d agreed fast to reciprocating. He’s going to see that tattoo, know he’s wearing my name on his body. Any other woman he goes with will see that as well. He might not think of it in that way, but I’m claiming him just as much as he’s claiming me.

With that idea in mind, I’ve designed the tattoos with matching elements. A bunch of violets, surrounded by barbed wire, to me representing a love that is trapped, unable to break free. On mine in fancy script are the words he wants; on his, my name, with the flowers less prominent. I’d borrowed Jay’s tablet, and had done some searches on the internet while Theo had slept. I’d become intrigued by tattoo designs, the artist in me animated by the unlimited possibilities.

The following morning I wake with no doubts, instead partly excited and partly nervous, knowing I’m going to experience a tattoo, which some people find very painful. Others say it hurts at first, but then as the body releases endorphins, it can become almost hypnotic. I’m hoping the latter is true. Guess I’ll soon be finding out.

Demon comes to collect me. I keep my designs folded up, hoping to discuss them first with Lizard. We’re taking the club’s SUV, which has blacked-out windows. Lizard and Demon sit in the front while I’m in the back seat. The tattoo parlour isn’t far away, and both men remain silent as we drive. There’s almost an air of seriousness, and I don’t feel encouraged to start a conversation.

We go to a parking place around the back, and Demon tells me to wait until Lizard has the door open. Then, with his arm barely touching me, he guides me inside. The furtiveness of the arrangement brings home he’s not a man excitedly putting his name on his future bride. No, he’s clearly reluctant.

Lizard holds out his hands once inside. When I pass over my sketches, he views them with a critical eye, while I look around in disgust.

“This place is really seedy, D. It’s like something out of an old film.”

“It might be a dump, but it’s clean, sterile, Violet. Don’t worry about that.” Lizard looks up for a second at my criticism, his eyes still creased in concentration.

“We’re actually moving premises, Vi.” Demon waves his hand indicating the room. “A bit more upmarket and definitely more modern.”

“What’s this?” I walk over to some equipment. Lots of different size needles sealed in clear plastic.

“Shit for piercing.”

“You do piercing too?” I find I’m fascinated.

“You getting ideas, Vi?” Demon looks amused.

“You got piercings?” I’m intrigued. Very intrigued. But he shudders. “Fuck no. A tattoo needle’s enough for me.”

Smothering my unnecessary disappointment—I was very unlikely to benefit from any he might have in any event—I notice no comment has been made about my proposed tattoos.

“Is there a problem, Lizard?” Up to now, he’s just been staring at them.

“You done this before, Vi?”

“No, but I studied art.”

“She has a degree,” Demon says proudly. “Are they any good, Liz?”

For an answer, Lizard passes them over. I look down at my feet, wondering whether it’s too much, whether my name in really small letters was all Demon thought he’d agreed to. After Demon’s looked at them, his expression unreadable, he catches Liz’s eye.

“They’re not good, Prez,” Lizard starts, and my spirits begin to fall. “They are fuckin’ fantastic for shit done freehand.” He looks at me sharply. “Ever worked with ink, babe?”

“No, but I was reading up on it last night. I loved drawing those.”

“Hmm.” He looks thoughtful but says nothing else. “Prez, mind making some coffee? I’ll make a stencil of Vi’s design.”

“And Demon’s.” I don’t want mine done and him to avoid getting his.

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