The tattoo parlor looked like every other tattoo parlor Suzanne had ever seen. Which was precisely zero. Still, nothing stood out about it. Nothing screamed This Place Is Run By A Demon.
There was also nobody around, despite the open sign that hung from the window as they’d come through the door.
Inhaling the unmistakable scent of smudged sage, she looked around the shop, one wall covered in pictures of tattoos she assumed had been done here, another wall plastered with tattoo templates.
“You’re sure this was the place?” The fact that whoever worked here had used sage to cleanse and purify the space of negative or evil energy most likely meant that the artist wasn’t a demon. But Wraith had said he wasn’t human, either.
That still left a lot of possibilities, including shapeshifters, elves, werebeasts, faeries, vampires… The list was endless.
“Yup.” Declan moved around the shop like a predator, his right hand poised to shove aside the hem of his blue button-down and draw his weapon even though he knew—from the comics—that bullets were ineffective against a large percentage of supernatural beings. ”I was drunk as fuck, but I kept the business card the guy gave me because he wrote something weird on the back.”
She frowned. “What did he write?”
A deep voice boomed from behind them. “I wrote that if he should ever have any questions about the tattoo he should come back.”
An immense wave of power filled the building, stronger than anything she’d ever experienced outside her father’s realm. Instinctively she summoned her own power, holding it in her fingertips as she and Declan spun around to confront the newcomer.
Her jaw hit the floor and she couldn’t stop staring at the male who had emerged from a back room, his long, dark hair flowing over his T-shirt clad shoulders, his jeans and boots so different from the hooded robes she’d always seen him in. Hell, the only reason she recognized him was because of the intense vibe he gave off, one that was as unique as a signature.
“Jim Bob,” she whispered. “Holy shit.”
Declan looked between her and Jim Bob, his hand still hovering over his sidearm, which would be utterly useless against the male in front of them. “You know him?”
Jim Bob was a regular visitor of her father’s, and she was pretty sure he was some sort of spy. But where did his loyalties lie? With Heaven? With Sheoul-gra? With another party?
“Go ahead.” Jim Bob gestured to Declan. “Tell him.”
She didn’t take her eyes off Jim Bob as she spoke. “He’s an angel.”
Declan’s gaze raked the angel from head to toe. “And his name’s Jim Bob?”
“Not...really.” She had no idea what his angelic name was. Her father had a habit of giving his spies ridiculous code names. Jim Bob. Ricky Bobby. A new one called Cletus. “It’s a long story. I’ll tell you later. But he’s definitely an angel.”
“Like you?”
Jim Bob’s deep laughter echoed through the small space. “No Memitim is like me.”
Annoyed, she translated Jim Bob’s insult. “He was born a Heavenly angel,” she explained. “He probably belongs to one of the Orders at the top of the hierarchy. They think they’re better than us.”
Jim Bob didn’t even try to deny it. “Given that you’re both here and that Declan is clearly aware of our existence, I’m guessing you have some questions about the tattoo.”
“Yeah.” Declan stepped forward to take a brochure off the counter, but when he turned back to speak to Jim Bob she realized he’d intentionally put himself between her and the big angel. He had to know that Jim Bob could crush him with his pinky finger, yet Declan didn’t seem fazed. It was so cute. And halo-meltingly hot. “What, exactly, does the tattoo do, and why did you give it to me?”
Jim Bob didn’t move, but the door behind them locked and the OPEN sign in the window flipped to CLOSED. Suzanne watched with envy; she’d never been able to manipulate objects like that, but some of her siblings could. He gestured to a small table with three chairs in the corner. Declan relaxed a little, but Suzanne noticed he still chose a seat that allowed him to keep an eye on the door.
“A man named Gareth brought you in,” Jim Bob said once they were all seated. “You worked with him.”
“He was a member of my team, yes.” Declan’s voice went hoarse. “He was killed not long after we were here.”
Jim Bob snorted. “He wasn’t killed.”
“I fucking watched him die.” Declan gripped the table top so hard his knuckles turned white. “I was there. I couldn’t save him.”
“You couldn’t save him because he wasn’t human,” Jim Bob said calmly. “He’s an angel. Alive and well and inserting himself into human business in…I want to say…Norway? Maybe Finland?” He shrugged. “In any case, it’s a good thing he likes fish.”
“What?” Declan rocked back in his seat. “I can’t believe this,” he said, his voice a mix of surprise and relief. “He let me think he was dead. And human. That asshole.”
“He’s a Nephunter,” Jim Bob said. “He’s an angel assigned to find humans with angelic DNA.”
Interesting. Suzanne hadn’t known that there were angels specifically assigned to find humans who had angel blood in their family trees. But then, there was a lot she didn’t know about the goings-on in Heaven. And frankly, she didn’t care. Let people like Hawkyn deal with the inner workings of angelic business.
“But why?” Declan asked, apparently still so shocked by the fact that his buddy was not only alive but an angel that he hadn’t realized that Gareth must have zeroed in on Declan.
“They might prove to be valuable in the inevitable war between good and evil,” Jim Bob explained. “That’s why he was on your team. He was watching you. Sizing you up.” He shrugged. “And stealing your blood when you weren’t looking.”
Declan got it this time, and his eyes shot wide. “Me? I have angel in my DNA?” At Jim Bob’s nod, Declan closed his eyes and swore softly. “Man, these last two days have been surreal.” He opened his eyes again. “So why did Gareth bring me here?”
“Because once we find someone like you, I mark them.”
“Mark?” Declan’s eyes narrowed. “Or track?”
Jim Bob didn’t have to answer. The sly curve to his mouth said it all. The tats were for tracking purposes.
“The tattoos are unique to everyone,” he said. “They tap into a human’s inner angel and give them little...tweaks.”
“Tweaks?”
Jim Bob shrugged. “It depends on how far back in your family tree the angel DNA came from, and it depends on the angel itself. You, for example? You are, by nature, a guardian. It’s why I gave you wings. Since getting them, you’ve probably noticed you have slightly faster reflexes and more heightened senses than people around you.”
Suzanne grinned. “You’re a superhero.”
“I thought I was losing my mind.” Declan raked his hand through his hair, coming to grips with all of this while shoving to his feet to pace in a circle. “I hear things long before other people do. I can see shit other people need a scope to see.” He grimaced. “I don’t want to discuss my enhanced sense of smell.”
Jim Bob’s cell phone buzzed on the counter, but he ignored it. “What is it that brought you here, anyway?”
“Declan has a Siecher demon after him.” Suzanne cast a glance over at Declan, who seemed lost in thought as he paced. “He’s killed one before, and we suspect that the tattoo might have been how.”
Jim Bob shook his head. “The tattoo enhances abilities, but it wouldn’t provide the key to killing a Siecher demon.”
That was disappointing news. “What do you know about them?”
“Very little.” Jim Bob drummed his fingers on the table as he spoke. “I’ve never encountered one, and the only angel I know who killed one used an ability you don’t possess.”
“How do you know?” Suzanne asked, feeling a little insulted. She might be a Memitim, but to assume she didn’t have powerful gifts was a bit elitist.
Jim Bob gave her an even more insulting are-you-kidding-me stare. “Can you pull apart a body at a cellular level so that it rains down like microscopic glitter?”
Oh. Suzanne was at a loss for words, but Declan was right there to help out.
“Can you do that?” Declan asked her. “Because that would be cool. Terrifying, but cool.”
He had some strange ideas about what was cool. “Ah, no.”
Curiosity gleamed in Declan’s eyes as he addressed Jim Bob. “Can you put them back together?”
“Hmm.” Jim Bob considered that. “I don’t think anyone has ever tried. I don’t know why you’d want to. I mean, you exploded them for a reason. But I don’t see why you couldn’t put them back together as long as you did it quickly.” His expression said he wanted to test that theory.
Suzanne shuddered. She’d grown up going to church on Sundays and believing in a wrathful God and compassionate angels, but she’d since learned that reality was the exact opposite. Angels were warriors capable of ruthless cruelty, winged believers in the ends justifying the means...as long as the ends were part of the Heavenly agenda.
Even Memitim, considered by most to be the “nice guys” of the angel world, were badasses. Well, she doubted any of her brothers and sisters considered her a badass, but she was certainly the exception.
“Well,” Suzanne said, feeling a little deflated, “that wasn’t the news I wanted to hear.”
“Sorry I couldn’t help more.” Standing, Jim Bob mentally unlocked the door and turned on the OPEN sign, their cue to leave. Suzanne and Declan got up to go, but as they reached the door he called out, “Oh, and Suzanne?”
“Yes?”
“You know not to tell anyone about this, right?” Jim Bob’s deep voice was steeped in warning.
“Tell them what? That one of my father’s most prominent Heavenly spies doles out enchanted tattoos from a seedy shop in San Francisco?”
“That’s precisely what you can’t tell anyone about. Anyone. Not your closest friend, not your favorite sibling, not even your father. Got it?”
“Got it.”
Declan reached back and massaged his neck as if it was stiff, and given the last twenty-four hours, she’d be surprised if every muscle in his body wasn’t strained to its limit. “What about me? I’m assuming I can’t talk, either?”
“You’re human,” Jim Bob said, managing to not sound like the word “human” was an insult. “Few will believe you. But those few who do will either want to kill you or use you, so yeah, keep it to yourself.”
“No problem.” Declan gazed out the window, looking suddenly sad, and she wondered if he was thinking about Steve. “I just wish you’d had the answer we needed.”
Jim Bob’s eyes glowed as he looked at Declan. “You never said how you killed the demon. Most human weapons wouldn’t even scratch their hides.”
“No shit. Bullets didn’t even make the thing flinch. It was like we were throwing pebbles at The Hulk.” His fingers fluttered over the bump under his shirt where he kept his holster, as if reassuring himself that he had a weapon, even if it was useless against this particular threat. “I put a dagger through his eye socket.”
“Really?” Jim Bob cocked his head in curiosity. “What kind of blade?”
“It was mine. A standard—” Declan broke off, his gaze turning inward. “No...it wasn’t mine. My KA-BAR was knocked out of my hand during the fight. When I saw the demon go down, I looked around for a weapon.” He shook his head. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of this sooner. I lifted the dagger from the demon’s belt. I killed him with his own weapon.”
“There you go,” Jim Bob said. “You need that blade. Do you know where it is?”
“It’s in my boss’s wall safe.”
For the first time since Declan was attacked outside his employer’s building, Suzanne had hope that this would soon be over. And so would her status as a Memitim once it got out that she’d slept with her Primori.
But that little hiccup was something to deal with later. Right now they had a demon to smite. “Let’s go see your boss.”
Declan looked at her like she was mad. “I can’t just walk up to Tag and tell him I need it without telling him why. If his memories were altered like mine, he probably doesn’t even know he has it. He’s going to want to know the truth.”
Shit. Declan was right. She was already in it up to her chin with all the rules she’d broken with Declan, and angels were working overtime to repair some of the damage, namely the destroyed house across the street from the angel mansion. She was going to be in even more trouble if she revealed their world to yet another human.
Unfortunately, she didn’t see another option. “We have to tell him everything.”
“I don’t need to tell you that’s forbidden,” Jim Bob said, his voice a low, ominous growl. Then he grinned, and his smile was just as ominous. “But there are ways to bend the rules.”
Huh. She was starting to like this secretive angel. “Then let’s do this.”