Tanner and Kalen didn’t say a word, which irked the hell out of Valor.
“I canna explain it, but she has something about her that I couldna pull my attention away from.” That’s why Valor felt like she must be other – a term used by Hell Hounds to describe certain beings with magical abilities.
“I understand,” Tanner nodded. “You need to get laid.”
Valor felt a fury that was impossible to contain. He growled low in his throat, “It wasna like that, Hound. I’m telling ye she seemed…”
“Beautiful? Sexy? Mysterious?” Tanner could keep going all day and all his suggestions would have been correct.
“Did you follow her? Find out more about her?” Kalen asked, shutting up Tanner’s continuous string of words like luscious and desirable.
“I did. And I gave Bishop the address of her home. He’s going to find out more.”
“Well maybe it was just a coincidence and the two of you just happen to have the same taste in women,” Tanner said.
Maybe, maybe not. Valor and Bishop never had the same taste in anything other than weapons, but he couldn’t deny that he was slightly attracted to her. Of course, he barely got a look at the lass, his focus had been more on her aura than anything else. Still, he couldn’t get her off his mind. It was starting to annoy him now.
Tanner was probably right, Valor needed to get laid. He had better do it sooner rather than later because the last thing he needed was to end up like Bishop had earlier. Maiden, Mother, and Crone, his head hurt now.
The doors opened again. Kalen and Tanner rushed over to Sara, who was smiling and slightly shaky.
“You okay, Beautiful?”
“How are you, Darling?”
“I’m better,” she smiled with relief. “It felt good. I think the baby might have liked it too. It felt like there was a guppy swimming in my belly.”
Tanner placed his hand over her bump and she giggled, “I don’t think you’ll feel it, Sunshine Boy. She’ll have to get bigger before that can happen.”
“She?” Kalen rocked back on his heels.
“Well, I think it’s a girl.” Sara bit her bottom lip. “But I don’t have anything to go off of other than my intuition.”
Lucifer went back over to his chair and landed rather ungracefully into it. “I need to be alone,” he announced. “Valor, I want Tanner or Jack to go with you when you get your next lead. I know this is hard for you, Hound, and I’m sorry I can’t do more for your pack, but—”
“You need not give excuses, sire. I understand completely.” And more than most, Valor thought.
“I heard you speak of a woman,” Lucifer said, “Remember, I have better hearing than you Hounds.”
Valor cleared his throat.
“What’s her name?”
“Tilly.”
“You have nothing more than that?”
“Not yet.”
Lucifer nodded. “Intuition is a powerful thing. I suggest you follow your gut with her. And don’t think too hard on what intrigues you, Valor. I’m not saying she’s going to be of use to you, but never discredit a female’s worth.” Lucifer’s gaze sailed over to Sara for good measure. “Go home and rest, Darling. I’ll see you soon.”
They were dismissed.
Chapter 7
Tilly rolled out of bed, cursing all the way to the front door. She didn’t need to look through her peephole to know who was knocking this early in the m—
Oh wait, it was two in the afternoon. Shit.
She opened the door, not bothering to put on pants, and growled at her sister when Vivian said, “Wake up, troll hair.” Dressed in skinny jeans, a black shirt and red heels, Vivian practically bulldozed her way into the apartment. “Ohhh, or should I call you troll breath? Here,” she shoved a coffee in Tilly’s face and let the aroma of freshly brewed hallelujah-come-and-getcha-self-some wake her up.
Tilly snatched the cup and took a sip, sighing in pure bliss after she swallowed. You know what would make this better? That’s right, a cannoli. Which, as it just so happens, Tilly had stashed in her fridge. They were to be her victory prize for when she successfully sang on stage last night. Now they could be her You Blew It consolation prize.
They sat on Tilly’s futon and Vivian tucked a paper towel into her neckline to protect her black shirt from getting dusted with powdered sugar. God forbid the woman got messy.
“Are you ready for your appointment?”
Vivian took a sip of her latte, “I think so. But… I feel bad.”
“Why?” Bite, chew, sip, swallow. Damn this was so good.
“Because you didn’t cross off your number six on your bucket list last night, Tilly. I feel bad crossing off mine now.”
“Don’t you dare chicken out! I don’t need both of us sulking with regrets, Viv. Besides, I’ll get to my number six.” She scowled when Vivian gave her a look and added, “Eventually.”
“Well, do you want me to skip my six today too and we’ll put it on the bottom of the bucket list together?”
“Nope. You’re just one ahead of me.” Tilly saw the look of concern on Vivian’s face and she patted her knee. “It’s fine. I swear I’ll get to it. Even if it’s the last thing I do.”
“Not. Funny.”
Tilly shrugged and ate the last bite of her cannoli. Then she sat back, crossed her legs, and purred at her coffee cup. “Hello darkness, my old friend.”
Vivian took a little while to finish her food, then she sat in the same position as her sister. Only she was dressed and Tilly was in a big shirt and underwear, but whatever.
“What’s that,” Vivian nodded towards an old book on the coffee table. “Light reading?”
Another a dead end, Tilly thought. “Something like that.” You see, they were cursed and… well… shit, let’s not ruin breakfast/lunch right now by discussing it. “I better hop in the shower,” Tilly smiled. “Unless you think I can go like this?”
“Fuck no,” Vivian laughed. “Unless going pants-less will get us a discount at the tattoo shop, then I’ll strip out of mine too.”
They both started laughing and Tilly left to take a shower. When she came back out, her sister was cleaning the kitchen area. “You don’t have to do that, you know.”
“Well I doubt you’ll hire a maid.” Vivian squirted more cleaner onto the stove, “What the hell is this shit? It won’t come off.”
“Don’t ask.” She wouldn’t have liked the answer.
Vivian crossed her arms over her chest and scowled at Tilly. “Why are you still doing this, Tilly?” They didn’t speak for several minutes. “You’re as hard-headed as mom was.”
Tilly swallowed the anxiety that came with that tease. “And you’re as skinny as dad was. We just can’t win, can we?” Tilly hip-bumped her sister and tossed her empty coffee cup into the trash.
“I will never understand why you live like this. You’re rich, in case you’ve forgotten, and you live like a…ugh!” Vivian waved her hands through the air all flustered.
“We have different ideas on what rich is, Viv.” Besides, blowing her money on fine houses and expensive cars wasn’t going to help her live. She needed answers or a goddamn miracle. Tilly loved her sister more than anything, but they lived very different lives.
They both grew up stupid rich. Unfortunately, all good lives came with a price. Tilly and Vivian were in line to pay up – just as their mother had, and their grandmother, and their great-grandmother, and so on and so on.
Tilly sat on her futon and grabbed her shoes. She glared at her latest attempt sitting on the table. She poured over that book for nearly two weeks. Nothing in it had been helpful. It was a total waste of a lot of fucking money and precious time.
Vivian started rearranging the glasses in the cupboard. Tilly watched her work, knowing there was no point in telling her to stop. Vivian was a perfectionist. A control freak. It was another battle they’d fought for a long time and Tilly never won, so she gave up.
The fact that Viv was
in need of making everything perfect and beautiful made Tilly’s heart ache. It was beyond a compulsion for her. It was a sign that things in Viv’s life might not be going the way she wanted them to. Vivian was a smart woman. A talented one, too. She could have been a success on stage and traveled the world had she not let a man stand in her way. Tilly wasn’t as foolish as her sister. She might not have all the same luxuries, but she did have her freedom. Vivian was a caged bird now.
“What’s the matter, Viv? You only re-organize like this when something’s wrong.”
“Your place is a pig sty, that’s what’s wrong.”
Bullshit. Tilly bit her lip and her eyes darted back to the book on the table. If she found a cure, Vivian would have longer and could do more with her life besides play Stepford wife. Now Tilly was good and pissed. She snatched the book and threw it against the wall.
“Watch it!” Vivian quickly grabbed the book and gently swiped the cover with the hem of her shirt, probably worried that the oils of her fingers might leave imperfect smudge marks on it.
Their father had been paranoid about appearances too.
“That looks priceless,” Vivian said, “Where’d you get it?”
Tilly waved her off. It wasn’t priceless, it cost her 2.7 million dollars to have Liam steal it. “It was in dad’s old stuff,” she lied.
Their father was a collector of all kinds of artifacts, Vivian would believe a lie like that.
Viv sighed and placed the book on the tiny coffee table, making sure it was perfectly aligned with the corner of the damned thing. “Well, there’s something you and I both got from dad then - his weird fascination with old shit. I just bought a first edition Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland as a birthday gift for myself.”
Tilly smirked because she knew her sister didn’t truly have a love for old things. Viv collected because she was raised around antiques and she had trouble letting go of her father’s ways. Not that Tilly would ever point that out to her. And Tilly didn’t give a flying fuck about antiques or anything that had to do with her father. She just wanted to survive, which was why she stole ancient artifacts from wealthy collectors. Tilly was trying to outrun death the same way their mother had. Vivian however, was a cynic like their father, and never would believe there was an anvil hanging over her head. Ignorance was bliss, right?
“Can we go now? Your apartment depresses me.”
Tilly tossed a pillow at her and laughed. “Spoiled little rich girl.”
Vivian tossed the pillow back, “I can’t deny it, so I won’t try.”
“How’s Jimmy by the way?”
“James is wonderful, as always.”
Vivian was newly married. Why? That was something Tilly often asked herself. It was like Vivian lived with one foot in reality, the other in her perfect little dream world. And Jimmy, as Tilly liked to call him because he didn’t like it, wasn’t good enough for Vivian. Oh sure he was smart and wealthy and spoiled her to pieces, but there was something off about him. A coldness Tilly was convinced only she could see. Vivian, on the other hand, was nothing but mush, bubble hearts and cooing noises when it came to that man.
As long as Jimmy treated Vivian well and kept her happy, then Tilly kept her opinions to herself. Life was too short to complain about every little negativity out there anyways.
“Come on, let’s go shopping for a little while before your appointment,” Tilly snatched her purse and opened the door for her sister.
“You hate shopping, Tilly.”
“Yeah, but this is your day, not mine. Let’s go.”
They left the studio apartment and took the three flights of steps down to the main level, which was usually Tilly’s only form of exercise. She frowned when she got to the bottom, “Now why couldn’t I have slipped down the fucking steps today instead of yesterday?”
“How’s your ass?”
“Still sore.” Tilly opened the main door and they stepped out onto the street and hung a left. “There’s a bookstore I want to go into down here. It’s right next to a jewelry shop I think you’re going to love.”
“Ohhh sparklies!” They hooked their arms together and strolled down the street. “So, wanna talk about that guy from last night?” Viv asked.
“Not really,” Tilly didn’t want to discuss Bishop.
“He was hot. You should have gotten his number.”
“Hey, we should try The Golden Ox for lunch! That place is delish.” Food diversions always worked when Tilly wanted to change the subject with Vivian.
“Oh hell yeah. I’m totally getting the brisket. Remember when dad used to bring us there after dance class when we were kids?”
“Mmm hmmm,” Tilly’s heart clenched a little thinking about their father. “Hey, wanna grab a donut?”
“We just ate a cannoli!”
“So?”
“Good point.”
See? Food diversions did the trick every time.
It took Tilly all of five seconds after she walked into the tattoo shop to decide she was going to put one more thing on her “Fuck it” list.
“Fuck it, I’m getting one too.”
Vivian squealed with glee.
“You got an appointment, hun?” The tattoo artist had pink hair, two full-sleeves, and a nose piercing. She reminded Tilly of Bishop for a second. He had a similar piercing in his nose. And… well, not that she got a good look at him in that leather jacket, but she could see at least one hand was inked and it looked like the artwork stretched up his forearm at the very least.
Would she ever see him again? Probably not, damnit.
“No, I don’t have an appointment. Can I make one? It doesn’t have to be today, if no one’s available.” Tilly knew the likelihood of getting in today would be nearly impossible without an appointment. There was a three-year waitlist for several artists here. “The name’s Tilly, errr, Matilda Jane Sinclair.”
The woman looked up with bright eyes, probably recognizing the name. “Let me see if there’s anyone free. Do you care who does you?”
“Nope, you’re all amazing.” If they worked here, then they earned their station with serious skill and respect.
The woman beamed, “Let me see if Syd can do you. He’s in today.”
Yup, Tilly thought, this woman knew who they were.
Syd was the owner and only worked in the shop one day out of the month because the rest of his time was spent travelling to different areas of the country tattooing nipples on women who had breast reconstruction. Years ago, Syd and Tilly’s father met in a hospital waiting room and hit it off immediately.
“Matilda Jane! Well I’ll be goddamned. How you doin’ hun?”
They hugged and it was all Tilly could do to tame her smile down. Syd looked like the poster child for Hell’s Angels and had more piercings and ink than he had skin for. At six foot seven and nearly three hundred fifty pounds of muscle, most folks probably ran the other direction when they saw him coming, but not Tilly. She loved him to pieces. Besides, you can’t judge a book by its cover. Syd was a total teddy bear.
“Vivian’s getting her first tattoo,” Tilly winked.
“Well, you’ve come to the right place. Come on back, girls.” They followed Syd into a small room. “I’ll do you both, how ‘bout that?”
“Do you have time?” Tilly didn’t want to hold him up if he had somewhere else to go.
“I’ll always have time for you,” he patted the table, “Hop on up, V, and tell me what you want.”
“I want a little anchor with the words I refuse to sink below my collarbone. Here,” she pulled a slip of paper out of her clutch, “I have this so you can get the exact measurements and work from there.”
Syd nodded, “And what about you, Tilly?”
She pursed her lips and thought of something on the fly. “I want Death written in swirly lettering with a pair of kissy lips. On my ass, please.”
Syd’s head tilted back and he laughed. “Death can kiss your ass, is that right?”
; “You got it.”
He shook his head and continued to chuckle. “Alright then, let’s get this party started.”
Vivian went first, Tilly second. Two hours later, they left the tattoo parlor and were heading home. Her sister had her badass swagger going on. No one would have guessed she cried through half her session and they had to stop three times so she could calm the hell down. Number six on Vivian’s bucket list was officially crossed off. Woot! Woot!
“I can’t believe you didn’t cry with yours,” Vivian said. “It was your ass, it had to hurt.”
It really didn’t. Besides, Tilly didn’t mind a little pain when it also brought some pleasure. Getting a tattoo was like entering a lovely Zen zone for her. Maybe she could get another one soon, if she lived long enough to make an appointment.
They made it all the way to the block where Tilly’s apartment was. “You coming up for a movie? We can watch The Lost Boys, order Chinese food, and pretend we’re eating worms and maggots.”
Vivian laughed, “How can I refuse?”
“You want to spend the night?”
“No, I can’t. I have to get home. James has big plans tomorrow for my birthday.”
Tilly frowned, but she understood. Really. Jimmy wanted to do something special for his wife on her birthday, which was a wonderful thing. Tilly shouldn’t feel sad or jealous about that. So, she swallowed the loneliness that made her feel hollow inside and slapped on a big cheesy smile, “I’m getting a double batch of eggrolls.”
Food diversions, gotta love them.
Chapter 8
Bishop rolled out of his bed with a grunt. Those black flames in Hell definitely unfucked his ass. That was the first night’s sleep he’d had in a while. Scrubbing his face with both hands, Bishop leaned in and looked into his mirror.
Fuuuuck, he looked like Hell. Licking his dry lips, he blinked slowly and tried to remember what happened in the past couple of days. Let’s see, besides becoming excruciatingly unbalanced, he’d scoured the city of Baltimore looking for the twins. Or at least sniff out a clue as to where they might be. He went to The Blue Lizard because he was told that was the best place to look for them. He found nothing. Not true. He found something, it just wasn’t what he was looking for.
Hard to Find (Hell Hounds Harem Book 4) Page 5