Page 8 of The Sirin Sisterhood (The Sons of Echidna #2)

Al

The city’s lights shimmered like a galaxy woven into the urban tapestry.

The burning light of a cigarette soothed Al’s nerves more than the smoke did, the little glow of the embers falling twenty stories down taking away his worries with them.

Not really, but it felt nice to imagine it.

Unfortunately, hisworrieswerepiled up higher than everbefore: work, debt, bills.

Every noise the phone made caused Al to tense up, strangled by anxiety.

“You’re still up?”

Lai’s voice startled him. Al hadn’t even heard him come in.

Who’d opened the door? Did Lai still have keys to his place?

The young man strolled towards the balcony’s edge, reeking of booze, a powdering of glitter covering his sleeves.

Al knew instantly where Lai had been. He wasa littlehurt that he wasn’t invited along despite not being in the right head-space to meet with Candy and be the focus of her attention.

“Someone had to make sure you’d come back.” Al tossed the butt into the ashtray and lit another cigarette.

“Wow, you progressed to chain smoking?” Lai moved closer and stole the cigarette from Al’s fingers, taking in a drag. “You look a mess. Go and get some sleep. I’m home safe, you don’t need to worry that pretty head of yours.”

“I’m fine. Too wired to sleep.”

“Fair enough, it’s been a strange day. I know you don’t like uninvited guests. I can move my family elsewhere tomorrow. I’ve got enough to put them up in a motel for now. Won’t be crashing at your place for too long.”

Al sighed and glanced back inside at the notice with a red envelope that mocked him from the fridge. “It won’t be my place for long. I might need to sell my car if I want to stay afloat. It should get us through until I get a new job.”

He saw Lai’s face, the glow of the city illuminating the flawless features. He wanted those icy eyes to meet his, tocome up withsome stupid plan or find a silver lining, but Lai only stared into the distance. There was no silver lining in a lead coffin.

A sudden tinge of guilt stabbed Al’s chest. Lai had lost so much more that day. It wasn’t his job to get Al through this.

“You think Lucy will come back?” He changed the subject quickly.

“I hope so. Why do you ask?”

“You should have seen the other woman and how they were together.” Al thought back to how the girls were around each other. Nothing else mattered to them, just Xim and Lucyat that moment, and no worries in the world. A flash of envy hit Al, and the twisting feeling surprised him.

“Oh, don’t tell me.” Lai groaned. “Were they disgustingly sweet?”

“Something along those lines. Definitely acting distant, but I know that act,” Al muttered. “I’m not sure if they are together together, but they are definitely close.”

“Ugh, gross. Couples,” Lai laughed, scooting closer and leaning on Al’s shoulder.

For once, Al didn’t flinch away. Instead, he hugged the other man to him, hand tracing the bare skin around Lai’s middle until his fingers felt the raised edge of a tattoo.

It was the perfect distraction he needed before he said or did something he would later regret, like kissing him.

Al had been seconds away from making that thought a reality.

“I got my kit from Candy’s earlier. Do you want me to finish it?”He offered instead, pulling away from the warm embrace, the sudden cold sobering him up enough to thinka littlemore clearly.

“One day, you’ll learn to lie convincingly, but it ain’t today.” Lai looked up at Al with a playful wink. “It was never at Candy’s, was it? You haven’t had time to grab it since we got here.”

A stupid lie to be caught on. Al looked away, his face turning red.

“Sure, give me a moment to wash. I’m sweating bourbon and ecstasy.” Lai pressed his hand to Al’s chest, a reassuring gesture. He wasn’t mad, just amused.

Lingering outside for a bit longer, Alput outhis last smoke and popped back inside to find his tools.

It wasn’t an easy operation with people everywhere, not to mention the fleabag dogs.

Al carefully stepped over the sleeping hounds, noticing with dread a few burn marks on the rug.

By the timehe returned, Lai was already washed and wrapped up in Al’s favorite robe.

“Hope you don’t mind me borrowing it.” He laid down on the lounger and untied the robe, uncovering the right side of his body. The intricate rose vine design stretchedoutfrom his thigh, wrapping around his hip.

Al paused to admire his work, eyes lingering over the canvas, until the thought of someone touching Lai hours earlier suddenly made his face tenseup.

“It’s not the most sterile environment,” he explained hastily, noticing Lai’s questioning look.

“You’re not supposed to tattoo outside, I could lose my license. ”

“You’re licensed?” Lai teased with a grin. “Ah, it will be fine. I can’t die, and it’s even harder to make me sick.” He raised both arms above his head, allowing Al full access to his body.

Tattooing him felt like an even worse idea than kissing him. Now Lai was naked, stretched out below him, and Al had to act like all he was thinking of was ink, and skin, and...

The tip of a marker traced dark blue lines over Lai’s tanned skin, sending shivers of pleasure down the man’s spine.

Another rosebud grew, then a thorny vine, curled and inching closer to Lai’s groin.

Al felt Lai harden with excitement as the marker glided over the base of his cock, scribbling a spiny leaf.

It was more extreme of a tattoo than he had planned, but Al wanted it to hurt. He wanted Lai to hurt.

“Are you always going to get hard when we work on it?” Al forced a smile, covering his tattoo gun in plastic and setting up his makeshift studio under the bright outside light. He poured a capful of ink, submerging the needle with a sharp buzz as the other man watched with rapt attention.

“Always.” Lai bit his lip as the needle began to trace the lines. The stinging, along with Al’s gentle touches, made him painfully erect.

“You are a tragic masochist, you know that?” Al carefully pulled away the robe, one treacherous hand stroking Lai’s erection as the needle danced around the base.

“Works well with your sadistic streak.” Lai hissed as Al shifted to trace the vine climbing over his cock. That seemed to be almost too much as Lai sucked in a sharp breath, toes curling against the seat. “Oh, fuck...”

“Stop moving.” Al frowned, squeezing a little too hard, his needling penetratingdeeperthan it needed but notdeepenough to blow out the design.

Once Lai was obediently still he got back to work, stroking slowly as he tattooed.

He held back from asking the questions he didn’t want answers to until he couldn’t resist any longer, curiosity and jealousy overwhelming him.

“Where did you go tonight?”

“I told you. Just needed to make some extra cash.”

Al lifted the gun away, looking up at Lai’s face. “And that involved?”

“Just some fun. Thought you didn’t care?”

“I don’t,” Al grumbled, refilling the ink. “But I did tell you not to be stupid.”

“I know how to be safe, and the guy was hot and rich. What’s so bad about having fun and getting paid?”

Al could feel his face flooding with heat, gripping the gun too tightly. He needed a moment to compose himself before the tensiongot out of hand.

“Taking a break?”Lai sat up a little,looking over the new additions to the design.He seemed pleased with it.

“No, just adding something extra.” He flexed his hand. “I wonder how Candy’s doing? I should probably see her now that I’m back.” Al resumed his work, glancing up at Lai and savagely enjoying that the hurt on his face wasn’t just from the inking. “What? According to you, who we see is no big deal.”

“You’re the one refusing to commit to anything,” Lai huffed, looking away. “How’s Narnia? Bet it’s nice this time of the year.”

“Stop it. You know I hate when you say shit like that.”

Lai flopped back down. “Then don’t complain about me fucking whoever I want.

I’m not the one hiding in the closet, and you don’t get to be possessive if you can’t evendateme.

It’s not like your name’s on it, okay?” He motioned to himself with a roll of his eyes, already bored of rehashing the same old argument.

“Stop moving.”

“Stop sulking.”

“You want me to finish this or not?”

Only the soft buzzing of the tattoo gun accompanied the quiet, angry breathing, neitherof themadding more fuel to the ancient fire.

For almost an hour, Al tracedoverhis artwork with the needle, focusing on the blooming roses that decorated Lai’s soft hips.

At last, the gun traced thelastfew lines, and Al wiped the tender skin for the final look at his work, checking for anything he might have missed.

It was perfect.

Lai got up, wincing in pain, and examined his reflection in the dark glass door of the balcony.

He grudgingly admired the finished masterpiece—intricate and elaborate, each line smooth and sure.

It took him a second to notice thelast minuteaddition, his eyes widening as herealizedwhat he was looking at.

“What?” Al shrugged. “All good artists sign their work.”

He sat back with a satisfied grin and lit up another cigarette.

Below Lai’s navel, among the blooming roses, was a name.

Alejandro .