Page 62 of Red Dragon’s Flame

Flames flared up and enclosed her hand, red and orange and blue, and then subsided.

She was his mate.

Chapter 28

Three days later, Mikah walked up behind where Devon was working at the computer in their rooms. He was fresh out of the shower and needed to go down to his office, but she was sitting there staring at the screen with that little frown of concentration that he always wanted to kiss away.

He wrapped his arms around her shoulders from behind, and kissed the top of her head instead. “Who are you robbing today?”

“Ha ha. Actually, a corporate bad guy whose mine is poisoning the water in a little town in the Wyoming mountains. I’m diverting funds for an enormous donation to the nonprofit that’s trying to stop it. Along with seriously sketchy memos that show the company’s total culpability, despite their protests of innocence.”

“Anonymously, of course,” Mikah said.

“Of course. Lawsuit city.”

“Nice. Carry on. I’ll be back in a few hours.”

“I’m almost done. Then Michelangela’s coming by with tattoo designs.”

Mikah kissed her again, because he could. “You’re not seriously going to let that wild child tattoo you, are you?”

“Why not?” She hit a couple of keys, draining the evil CEO’s secret bank account in the Cayman Islands.

“A) She’s only fifteen. B) She’s not a licensed tattoo artist. And C), she’s Mikey.”

Devon entered some more codes, and watched the lovely money fill up the nonprofit’s account. Take that, evil CEO.

She said, “You don’t need a tattoo license in Idaho.”

“We’re not in Idaho.”

“What, you have laws governing tattoo parlors here now?”

Of course they didn’t; there were no tattoo parlors. Mikah sighed.

Devon went on, “And she’s been studying for a year, with someone who has twenty years of experience.”

“What, that biker guy in the Silverlake pack?”

“I think so.”

Sheesh. Mikah shook his head. “Does Rafe know about this?”

A smile quirked Devon’s lips as she stared at her screen. “I doubt it.”

Mikah shook his head. “I shouldn’t let you and Mikey hang out together. I don’t know who is a worse influence on who.”

“At least nobody’s getting impregnated by narwhals.”

Mikah snorted. Mikey must have told her about that. “Not yet.”

“Maybe I’ll get a narwhal tattoo.”

There was a knock on the door, and then it began to open before they could answer. Mikah conjured clothes for himself a nanosecond before Mikey came inside, her arms—as usual—full of stuff.

“It’s customary to wait for people to say ‘Come in,’ ” Mikah said. “Especially because I was naked.”

“Thank the wolf gods I didn’t have to see that. I don’t have years to waste on therapy.” Michelangela dumped her armload on the nearest flat surface. This time it looked to be sketchbooks, a case that probably held tattooing tools, and two bags of Cheetos.