“Seriously, this isn’t good,” Khloë pressed. “It’s one thing to know that someone’s trying to get people to boycott Urban Ink by sending our clients gift cards for other tattoo studios. It’s another to know that it’s working.”
Putting away her equipment, Harper sighed. “I know. I’m still struggling to understand why anyone would bother to make this play. Well, I can see why the owners of the other tattoo shops around here would bother. But Knox confirmed that it wasn’t them.”
Probably by scanning their minds, Raini thought, adjusting the position of her station’s black leather recliner. “Whoever’s behind it could be someone that one of us pissed off.” She exchanged looks with both Harper and Devon, who each nodded.
Khloë frowned, her head jerking back. “Why are you all staring at me?”
“You fuck with people like it’s your job,” Devon pointed out.
“It’s good for the soul,” defended Khloë. “Anyway, I’m leaning more toward the theory that it’s an indirect attack on our lair.” She looked at Harper. “I mean, three of the four people who work here are part of said lair, and you’re the co-Prime of it. Moreover, you also own half of Urban Ink.”
Raini kind of missed the time when they were all part of the same lair. But after Harper met and mated with her anchor, Knox, she transferred to his lair and now ruled it alongside him. Devon had later mated one of his sentinels, Tanner, and Khloë had mated another of the sentinels, Keenan, so both girls had also switched lairs.
Knowing her girls were so happy with their mates, Raini was thrilled for them all, but she suspected she would have felt somewhat … left behind, maybe, if Khloë had moved out of the neighborhood and into Keenan’s apartment. Instead, he’d moved into the imp’s home, which was very close to Raini’s.
“Knox thinks the same,” said Harper. “He’ll keep looking into it. We’ll find out who’s playing these games eventually. They seem seriously petty to me.” The sphinx’s gaze slid to Raini. “Speaking of petty … is your sister speaking to you again yet?”
Raini felt her lips thin. “No.” But Demi had frozen her out so many times over the years that it no longer stung.
Harper shook her head. “If she’s going to be mad at someone, it should be Dwain the Dweeb, who needs to go home yesterday.”
Oh, Raini couldn’t agree more. Her sister’s anchor was an irritating asshole at times. “He wants to spend a little more time with his family and my sister so they can get to know his brand spanking new mate.”
“Grams said she got the impression that Dwain wants it to bother you that he’s now mated,” said Harper, whose grandmother—Jolene Wallis—was the Prime of Raini’s lair.
“I can’t think why he would. It’s not like his past feelings for me were real.” Raini crossed to the reception area and used the remote control to switch off the wall-mounted TV. “Succubae snares wear off unless the succubae wills them not to, and I didn’t snare him on purpose—he just fell into it.”
“It happens. Some demons are susceptible to them,” said Devon, cleaning her station’s large wall-mounted mirror. “If your sister had been a succubus like you and your mom instead of an imp like your dad, Dwain probably would have been enchanted by Demi instead.”
“Probably.” Raini placed the remote on the coffee table, careful not to knock off the portfolios. “I hate that he doesn’t see how much he’s hurting Demi right now.”
“What I hate,” began Khloë, “is that your own sister blames you for the fact that she’s hurting. It is not your fault that Demi fell for her anchor. It is not your fault that he fell for you. And it is definitely not your fault that he’s now mated to someone else.”
No, it wasn’t, but … “In Demi’s mind, if I hadn’t rejected him, he wouldn’t have moved away, and she and him would have gotten together eventually.”
Harper frowned. “But if you hadn’t rejected him, Demi would have hated you for dating the man she loves, so there’s really no way you can win here.”
“Oh, I know. But she never lets reason or rationality get in the way.” Most imps didn’t, to be fair.
“Do you think Dwain knows how Demi really feels about him?” asked Devon, idly fiddling with a pen from the reception desk. The hellcat scowled when Khloë snatched it from her and put it on a very specific spot on her desk.
“I don’t think so,” replied Raini. “He cares for her a lot. If he’d known this news would hurt her, he would have told her in private, not sucker-punched her with it by just turning up unannounced and saying, ‘Meet Harmony, my mate.’”
“I don’t like Demi, never have,” Devon said to Raini. “Mostly because she’s always been pissy toward you. So I’m finding it hard to feel bad for her right now, but I’ll keep trying.”