Chapter 12

CHAPTER TWELVE

AZIEL

I hated my friends. They were getting far too much enjoyment out of this. After telling them the truth about my family, Athena decided to spill the vision she had about me. Normally, she kept that kind of thing to herself unless someone asked for her to share, but she said it was for my own good. Now my friends were determined for me to spend time with the human, and they refused to take no as an answer. Which is how I found myself back in the tattoo shop on a Saturday afternoon under some crap pretense of Dante wanting to play with Ollie. Even Dante was determined to help, and he said he was going to play with Ollie every day of the week until Declan and I were at least friends.

The shop was busier than it'd been the last time I was here. There were two people getting tattoos and two more waiting on the couch near the front desk. I kind of expected them to look at least wary when Dante and I showed up, but this seemed to be the wrong crowd for that kind of reaction. I got a few curious looks, but after Declan lifted his chin in greeting, they went back to their phones and conversations.

"Ollie is watching TV upstairs. Gimme a minute, I'll call him down," Declan called over his shoulder .

Dante crept closer to where Declan was working, standing on his tiptoes to get a better view. Declan noticed and shifted a little, gesturing with a tip of his head for Dante to come closer.

"What do you think?"

Moving to Declan's side, Dante studied the ink. "That's really cool, but you know they don't look like that, right?"

Both Declan and the guy in the chair looked surprised. "Wait. The grim reaper is real?"

Dante scrunched up his nose and looked at me. "The what?"

Stepping closer, I looked at the tattoo. I'd seen images like that before. Humans used them regarding religion and death, but if they went with the literal sense, grims were very different.

"It's a human thing. They aren't drawing actual grims."

Declan tipped his head curiously. "Grims and grim reaper aren't the same thing?"

I shook my head. "No. Other than being dangerous, they don't have much to do with death. And the cloaks are a myth. They don't actually have corporal forms. They're more like a black mist, so that's probably why humans saw them that way." My gaze flicked down to the tattoo again, and I pursed my lips thoughtfully. "Tattoos like that might flatter them, though. You'll be less likely to be attacked by them."

The man in the chair looked surprised, a big smile blooming across his face. "No shit? That's awesome."

The man who greeted us the night before, who had been working on a tattoo the next chair over, snorted and lifted his head from what he was doing. "Damn, I guess that means I'm clear, too. You're gonna have to add one to your collection, Dec."

Declan rolled his eyes. "I'm good, thanks."

Standing this close, I could see the tattoos on his arms and neck. There didn't seem to be a specific theme to them. A compass on the right side of his neck, an old clock face on the left. Roses on his shoulder, a bunch of lines that looked like a date on the inside of his arm, and more. I didn't realize I was staring until he looked back up at me. That was when I finally noticed his eyes.

"Your eyes are two different colors. "

He smirked, raising his eyebrows at me. "Just noticed that? Yeah, it's called heterochromia. It's a definite conversation starter."

"Probably one of the few rare times the word hetero would be attached to you," the other tattoo artist snickered.

Declan raised his middle finger at the man. "If you've got enough free time to be an asshole, Ben, go call Ollie so he can play."

Ben chuckled to himself, rolling away from the tattoo he had been working on so he could head towards the back. Ollie came racing down a minute later, wearing long basketball shorts and a tank top. He was ready for the park, which was where Dante wanted to go play. He wanted to make an appearance, so if our family was watching, they'd see him getting information. I turned to follow them when they headed towards the door, but Dante scowled at me and crossed his arms.

"We don't need a babysitter. We can get to the park ourselves. You can wait here."

I rolled my eyes. He was too damn obvious about getting me to spend time with Declan. They all were. The meeting the night before to get information about tattoos was painfully obvious. I wouldn't be surprised if Declan caught on already.

"That's fine. We've got an open couch policy. You can hang out. As long as they go together, I don't mind them going by themselves," Declan answered behind me.

"Okay, bye!" Dante shouted, grabbing Ollie's wrist and racing out the door before I could protest. When he passed by the front window, he smirked at me. The little shit. I'd be getting back at him later.

With a heavy sigh, I moved to lean against the wall by the door. The couch was probably big enough for three people, but I didn't want to crowd the humans. I pulled out my phone, texting my friends that they corrupted my cousin, and pretended that I wasn't watching Declan out of the corner of my eye.

Athena was less than clear about what she wanted me to be doing with the man. The word submit made me nervous, though. I outweighed and towered over the human, and I was supposed to, what? Get on my knees for him?

Okay, that wouldn't be the worst idea on the planet, but that was about as far as I'd probably go in submitting .

"I got an email from the contact your friend gave me last night. He replied a lot faster than I expected. Said he could come talk to me in a day or two."

Glancing up from my phone, I frowned. It took me a second to remember who he was talking about. Hendrix had connections I didn't, through his band and his family. I shouldn't have been surprised he knew someone who tattooed paranormals. I'd never met the person, but then again, I avoided people outside my inner circle for a reason. You never know who might work for your family and report back against you.

I didn't reply to Declan's comment aside from dipping my chin to acknowledge him. I wasn't really a people person. I was fine with my friends, but I'd known them since I was a kid. It was rare for me to meet new people, and even more rare for me to think about things like hookups. It required a level of trust I refused to hand out easily.

"He said the only difference with tattooing demons was the type of ink. If I can get my hands on it, then you and your friends can get your work done. Did you have anything in mind?"

I pursed my lips thoughtfully. "No. Not really."

I never actually considered it. The story about me wanting one was just an excuse made up by my friends to get closer to Declan. They were going to force us to spend time together, even if I had to get a permanent etching on my skin to do it.

"That's fine. I've got a portfolio I can show you to give you some ideas. Let me just finish this up."

I spent the afternoon looking through Declan's art and chatting with him between clients. The boys came back for a snack at one point, disappearing upstairs, but Declan didn't seem to mind. He was the opposite of me, calm and relaxed, without a hint of apprehension whenever someone new stepped into his shop. Meanwhile, I watched each person suspiciously until they left or until Declan gestured them into the chair to start their tattoos. And even then, I watched them out of the corner of my eye. I kept waiting for someone to lash out, and I guess I wasn't subtle about it. As dinner rolled around, Declan took a break to feed the boys and tipped his head in a gesture for me to follow him. Once we were climbing the stairs, he glanced over his shoulder at me.

"You okay? You seem really tense."

"I'm fine," I grumbled.

Unfortunately, if we did spend time together, he'd have to get used to this. I spent my entire life on edge, waiting for one of my family members to lash out at me or one of our enemies to come for me in a revenge plot. I trusted no one, and since I was supposed to protect Declan, I trusted no one around him, either.

Declan paused at the landing at the top of the stairs, turning to face me, his eyes narrowed. "Liar. Tell me the truth. Is something going on? Family doesn't normally stick around during playdates, and you looked like you wanted to jump everyone who stepped into the shop. Did I miss something?"

"It's nothing," I growled.

He crossed his arms, not backing down an inch. I couldn't tell him the truth. He'd take it the wrong way. And I didn't want to admit he'd gotten on the radar of my psychotic family because of my carelessness. I avoided eye contact, frowning at the door, trying to figure out some kind of response, when his hand gripped my chin and forced me to look at him. His voice dropped to a whisper, his body a lot closer than I'd noticed before.

"From what I can tell, either you're here protecting me from something you don't want to admit to, or you're the possessive type and interested in spending time together. Which one is it?"