Devon put a hand on Raini’s arm. “But you’re going to do it anyway, aren’t you? You’re sitting here basically beating the message into your brain that you shouldn’t sleep with him. But you already know it’s a lost cause.”
Actually, no, she … Okay, yeah, the hellcat had totally called it.
“Let yourself have this, Raini.” Devon licked away the salt that dusted her fingers. “What’s the worst that could happen? It’s not as if your heart is on the line. You don’t have any hopes that it will lead anywhere. It’ll just be crazy good sex. And that’s always fun.”
“Motherfucking son of a fucker,” Khloë spat out.
Raini frowned at the imp, who was glaring at her phone. “What’s wrong?”
“Hopefully, Ciaran is wrong,” replied Khloë, her thumbs tapping on the screen of her cell. “Because if not, the person trying to boycott Urban Ink has stepped up their game.”
“In what sense?” asked Harper.
Khloë briefly held up one finger. “Give me a sec. He told me to check out a forum on … That rat bastard.”
“What, what is it?” Raini leaned over to look at the phone screen. “Someone left a review about our studio on there?” Conscious that the other two women had gathered behind them, Raini quickly speed-read the paragraph, and her mouth fell open. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
“Wait, they’re saying one of us screwed up that sorry excuse for a neck tattoo?” asked Devon, pointing to a photo that had been uploaded onto the forum.
“They’re saying that Raini did it,” said Khloë. “They probably got the image from a website that sells royalty-free images or something.”
The “reviewer” had also described Urban Ink as dirty and unhygienic, claiming it was only so popular because it was corun by Knox Thorne’s mate.
Harper planted her hands on her hips. “What piece of shit wrote that? Oh, they call themselves ‘Anonymous.’ Well of course they do.”
“Maybe we can somehow trace the review back to the source,” said Devon.
“I doubt it’ll work,” said Raini. “But we can look into it.”
Khloë looked at Harper. “We need to find out who’s doing this before they pull any more of this fucked-up shit. I still say that this is an indirect attack on you and our lair.”
“Knox would agree with you, which is why he’s going to flip,” said Harper.
“I don’t like it.”
Standing near the altar of the gothic cathedral, Maddox looked at his cousin, barely refraining from rolling his eyes. The man was painfully predictable and seemed utterly oblivious to it. “What don’t you like, Euan?” he asked, deceptively patient.
His inner demon wanted Maddox to snap the traitorous asshole’s neck. It didn’t care that Maddox had promised Euan’s now deceased father that he’d look out for him. If Euan fucked up one more time, Maddox would consider that promise null and void. He was done with the man’s shit.
“Anything about this situation,” replied Euan. “Viper told you that angels are looking to wipe out descendants. In the same breath, he’s asking you not only for an alliance but for access to our club … and you granted him both. He’s an angel. An enemy. An enemy who wants rid of us.”
Euan skimmed his gaze over the demons lounging on the pews, clearly expecting someone to voice their agreement. No one said a word. That wasn’t to say that everyone must disagree with him, only that no one wanted to jump onto Euan’s confrontational bandwagon. They didn’t need to use him as a voice anyway. Maddox wasn’t a Prime who didn’t invite questions. He had no problem with people speaking up or expressing their concerns, he only insisted on it being done in a respectful manner.
Maddox lifted a brow at his cousin. “You think Viper plans to double-cross us?”
“I’m surprised you don’t,” said Euan.
“Why?” asked Maddox, keeping his voice curious, as though Euan were a small child missing the point. “The angels up above don’t need the Fallen to do their dirty work. Nor would they need to find a way to infiltrate our lair—they’re strong enough to attack from outside it, and there are more of them than there are of us. It makes no sense that the Fallen would agree to work for them anyway.”
Euan spluttered. “Okay, so maybe Viper and his group aren’t working for angels. That doesn’t mean they’re not our enemies. Within six months of them falling, several lairs of descendants have been eradicated. You don’t think the timing is coincidental?”
“I suspect someone is hoping we’ll blame the Black Saints. But the fact is they have nothing to gain from targeting the people who are most likely to grant them alliances. On the contrary, it means they lose out.”
“If we’re dead, they could have the club.”
“They’re planning to build their own, like I told you,” said Maddox with a patience he didn’t feel. “They merely want to use the Damned in the meantime. I know there are people here who like the thought of having another club they could go to where they could be themselves.” He’d sensed that when he made the announcement to the lair only minutes before. “An alliance will work well for both sides.”