Page 105 of The Devil’s Feather

“I love Elaine,” Rafael said simply.

Lana’s chestnut brown eyes were so earnest, my initial reaction flushed me with guilt.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to be weird. I just wasn’t expecting any of this, and too many new things at once gets a little overwhelming. There’s been a lot of that lately.” A fuck ton, but Lana put me at ease.

“Lana is the most talented tattoo artist I know,” Rafael said. “You should always have the best.”

He pointed to the drawings gracing the walls. Incredible linework. Photorealistic portraits that looked ready to breathe on their own. Impeccable American Traditional, watercolor, and more.

Lana rolled her eyes. “Still a charming-ass motherfucker, I see.” She took my hands, staring into my soul. “Whatever makes you comfortable, babe. Rafael makes weird fucking choices because he’s fucking weird. I told him this was another weird fucking choice, but he insisted. You won’t hurt my feelings if you say no.”

She has Mandeep energy, just in a different font. Maybe Rafael had, in his twisted way, been seeking kindness all along. He’d just needed kindness with some bite and extra understanding. Something I never knew I had until he challenged me.

“He’s so fucking weird, but I like it.” I grinned, and Rafael let out a breath. “Also, I think this is his way of making amends for certain things.”

He smiled faintly with relief.

Lana adjusted her red kerchief. “Good for you if you can put up with him, though. Rafael’s one of them…what do you call that very specific kind of genius?”

I blinked. “A savant or a prodigy?”

She grinned. “Yeah, he’s like a pussy-eating prodigy.”

Rafael made a choking noise. “Lana, what the fuck?”

“Oh, come on! You can’t get mad at a compliment like that.” The tattoo artist winked at me.

Jealousy flared for a fleeting second, but pride punted it out of the way. Lana was just as stunning as all his other exes, but Rafael had chosen me. He wanted to mark me. And he’d sacrificed his own comfort just to show me I had nothing to fear.

I shared a conspiratorial grin with Lana. “I mean, she’s not wrong.”

He turned away, running his hand over his hair again. A crescent moon-shaped neon light on the wall behind his head crowned him with a golden halo, the edges of the moon positioned like horns. How fitting.

“Turnabout is fair play,” I crowed, and Lana snorted. “How does it feel?”

Rafael grumbled and rolled up his sleeve. Shaky at first, I wiped away the lines a few times. Once I figured out how to draw on textured skin, I inked a quill on the inside of his left forearm, since he was left-handed, from his wrist halfway to the crook of his elbow. The shaft of the feather followed the scars from old attempts. The rest flowed over the self-harm scars.

When I looked up to ask if he liked it, he had tears in his eyes. Which made me tear up.

“No, do not start that.” Rafael looked up at the ceiling, blinking away the emotion. “I fucking love it, yes.”

Lana nodded with an impressed frown. “That placement fucks. You want color or blackwork?”

Rafael rotated his forearm. “Black. Use negative space for highlights.”

“Shit, yeah.” Lana readied her inks. “It won’t take me long to pretty up that drawing. It’s already good. And I can knock these out today; they’re not complicated.”

Suddenly self-conscious again, I looked up at Rafael. “You sure you like it enough to keep it forever?”

He kissed me into a brainless blob.

Lana smacked us both. “Hey, hey, no fucking in my chair. Break it up, lovebirds.”

1 “Dance With You” -- Live

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HOLD ME FAST, AND FEAR ME NOT