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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 hishead 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?”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

DECLAN

I’d felthis eyes on me all afternoon. Subtle wasn’t really his strong suit. And every time someone came into the shop, he glared at them. I had a few clients whisper to me, asking about him and why he was staring. I had to make up excuses because it didn’t make any sense to say that Ollie’s friend’s cousin was hanging out for the fun of it. No, he was hiding something from me. If there was some sort of danger, I deserved to know.

He looked surprised, his eyes flying to meet mine. He was a step down on the stairs, putting us at even height, and I could see the uncertainty in his posture. I was testing the waters with the second option, but nothing else made sense. Danger or sex. Both would make someone hover and glare at strangers coming close.