Celebration (7 page)

“There is that.” Joanna’s gaze strayed to Louise’s new tattoos again. Maybe the wildness she’d found in herself should have a chance to get out a little.

“Come on,” Louise insisted. “I’m going down there tonight. You should come along, check out the ink, do something more fun than choose napkins and gush over hideous cut crystal bowls.” She made a face.

Joanna laughed. “How did you know about the bowls?”

“Everyone has aunties, and every auntie thinks a new bride needs an ugly crystal bowl. How many have you gotten?”

“Four so far,” Joanna admitted with a grimace. “I don’t know what I’m going to do with them.”

“Goldfish,” Louise said, marching out of the bathroom. “Condoms.”

Joanna laughed. “I was thinking jelly beans.”

Louise shook her head, pretending to be disappointed. “You have to move beyond the predictable, Joanna.”

“maybe I should get some of those glass eyes you used in your sculptures. Keep a bowl of them in the foyer.”

“I love it. Not just for Halloween, either.”

“But that’s just one bowl. Even with goldfish and condoms, I’ve got one more.”

“And?”

Joanna impulsively tried to surprise her roommate. “Cock rings and cable ties.”

Louise just laughed. “Better! Extra points if you keep that one in the dining room.”

“I was thinking of the kitchen.”

Louise laughed again. “The party starts at midnight, so you just have a bit of time to get changed. It’ll be our last night out together.”

“I don’t think we’ve ever had a night out together.”

“Then it’s our last chance to do it. Hurry up! I want to see the man in action.”

Joanna wanted to see the tattoos. She paused in front of her closet, wondering what people wore to tattoo shops. She thought about letting out her newly discovered wild side.

When her gaze fell on the tall black boots Mike had bought her and she smiled. Joanna would go Goth—she’d blend in, and no one would recognize her.

Perfect.

Chapter Three

The woman behind the counter in the tattoo shop took one look at Rex and smiled warmly. “You must be Rex.”

Rex nodded, sparing a glance for the interior of Wicked Ink. It was decorated in black and white, just as Goth as he’d expected, but the details were well done. It didn’t look tawdry or cheap, even if it did look like a place a vampire would find welcoming.

“Desdemona,” she said, offering her hand. Rex shook her hand, admiring the tattoo of roses that spilled on to the back of her hand. It was like a sleeve of flowers rendered in shades of grey, both feminine and pretty.

Desdemona was tall and slim, even taller than Rex in her platform shoes. She wore a black halter dress that let the tattoos all over her body be admired. Her hair was black and her eyes were outlined with heavy kohl. She was pretty and there was a light in her eyes that made her look mischievous. She smiled at the way Rex checked her out, visibly checked him out, then pulled a binder from beneath the counter. “You’re going to want to see this.”

Rex glanced at Amanda, who nodded encouragement. “Only for special clients,” she said, tapping the binder.

Rex was mystified.

Until he opened the binder. There was a design on the first page, one that he loved for its simple elegance. A peacock feather curled across the page, with wonderful detail in the eye of the feather. There was script beside it that said ‘Property of the Plume’.

“It’s a commemorative tattoo design,” Amanda whispered. “I hope you don’t mind that Zeke designed one.”

Rex shook his head. “It’s not our official logo, so there’s no legal issue. And it’s beautiful.” He frowned at the thickness of the binder.

Amanda turned the page. “There’s a color option and a number of choices for the calligraphy.” She turned another couple of pages, revealing photographs of an actual tattoo in the design. She looked up at him with a smile. “This binder is full of pictures of this image on people’s skin.”

“Zeke likes to document variations, because it gives clients a better idea of their choices,” Desdemona said.

Rex began to turn the pages, amazed by the variety and the consistency. “But there must be dozens of them in here.”

“And that’s not nearly all of them,” a man said. Rex glanced up to find a blue-eyed and dark-haired guy in leather watching them. He was lean and his manner intense, as well as younger than Rex. Rex wouldn’t have shocked to be told that he was a vampire. He inclined his head. “Zeke. I’m glad you don’t mind.”

“I’m impressed.”

“Amanda here has been confirming that everyone who wants one was a member,” Zeke explained, coming to Rex’s side. “I really like that one,” he murmured, gesturing to one that had been colored like a peacock feather, and Rex nodded. “But there’s a lot of demand. We’re thinking of varying the design for people who wanted to join but didn’t. What do you think?”

“You could change the text,” Rex suggested. “Or use a different number of feathers. It would be nice to maintain the distinction between members and non-members.”

Zeke nodded and grabbed a pencil. “Yeah, I was thinking that it should be different and smaller, maybe like a graphic code.” He sketched rapidly, confidence in his movements. Rex turned his head to watch the eye of a peacock feather appear within a circle of chain.

“Like a medallion,” he said.

“I could make it two or three inches across. It’d be more subtle.” Zeke cast him a glance. “It wouldn’t include the name of the club either.”

“It’d be a sign that the person was into Plume games, but not an actual member,” Amanda said. “What do you think?”

“It’s a good idea.”

“And the ink?”

“I like all of the tattoos,” Rex said, fanning through the book again. “But you’re serious? There are this many people wanting this commemorative tattoo? Some of these are big: they can’t be cheap.”

Amanda grinned. “That’s why I talked to Julius, Rex. I wanted you to see how much the Plume meant to people. I wanted you to see all the ink.”

Rex nodded and returned his attention to the album, turning the pages more slowly. The feather had been drawn larger and smaller, applied to biceps and calves and shoulders, mirrored and embellished with different text, combined with other images and names.

Zeke put his hand on the book, stopping Rex from turning the page again. “Don’t mess with the photos, Rex. Tonight you can see the real thing.”

Rex looked up in surprise. “What do you mean?”

“Tattoo party,” Desdemona said with satisfaction. “We’re going to lock up early, get naked and show our ink.” She winked at Rex. “Whatever else happens in this place is the business of people who do it.”

“It’s a private party,” Zeke said. “Invitation only.”

“It’s kind of a Plume party,” Amanda confirmed.

Rex couldn’t wait for it to begin. “I hope I’m invited,” he said with a smile and they all laughed together.

Zeke leaned closer, his eyes dancing. “I was hoping you’d be the star of the show.” He winked. “Want a Plume tattoo, Rex? On the house?”

Rex grinned and shed his jacket. “I’d love one.” The idea of wearing the work of an artist as talented as Zeke for the rest of his life was a no-brainer for Rex. These tattoos were beautiful. He tugged off his T-shirt and pointed to the back of his left shoulder. “Right here.”

Zeke turned Rex around and gave a low whistle. “Blank canvas,” he said. “And prime real estate, too. Flex so I can see how the shape changes.”

Rex did as he was told.

“It has to be different from the others,” Desdemona said.

“I know!” Amanda said. “Rex was the heart of the Plume.”

“An old-fashioned heart, surrounded by peacock feathers,” Zeke mused.

“I like it,” Desdemona agreed. “Sounds very Busby Berkeley.”

“Who?” Amanda asked.

Rex laughed at the reference to the choreographer who created geometric patterns with dozens of dancing showgirls. “You’re not going to include the dancers, are you?”

“Not unless you want a huge back piece.” Zeke grinned. “Step into my office, Rex, and let’s get started.”

“Tex!” Amanda cried just then.

Rex spun to find Tex and Tess arriving at the shop.

Before he could say anything, Tess gave a squeal of delight and leapt on Rex, kissing his cheeks with such enthusiasm that he felt like a returning hero. Tex pumped his hand so hard that Rex thought his arm would fall off.

Then so many others were spilling through the door, all their familiar faces lit with excitement. They surrounded Rex, overwhelming him with their relief that he was okay. There was Charlie and Hoss and Little Jim, Vlad and Annette, Rafe in his sunglasses, dozens of guards and waitresses and stable hands.

Desdemona pulled down the blinds and stood guard at the door as the foyer of the shop became crowded and warm. Zeke turned up the music so that the building pulsed with an insistent throb. The lights were turned down low and the dancing began. Clothes were stripped off and left in the foyer, handcuffs and leashes began to appear, along with Plume domino masks. It was like old times. Tony arrived with a bottle of Rex’s favorite single malt, giving Rex clap on the back to go with it.

Rex was back in his element.

And that was before he saw the tie-down straps on Zeke’s tattoo bench.

* * *

Within minutes of midnight, Rex decided he was in heaven.

The music was loud with a good rhythm. Wicked Ink was jam-packed with beautiful people, all former members of the Plume, all turned out in their best fetish gear and finery. There was latex and lace on every side, lots of skin and eyeliner, sparkling jewelry and studs, plus an incredible variety of commemorative tattoos. Every person there wanted to show his or her ink personally to Rex, and some wanted more than that. Rex had had a number of offers, lots of handling and some kisses deep enough to stir his soul.

It was awesome and just what he needed.

Somehow, Rex had ended up with the job of documenting the Plume commemorative tattoos for Zeke. With a camera in his hand and plenty of gorgeous subjects, Rex felt like he’d come home.

Zeke was still perfecting the design for Rex’s own tattoo. As usual, Rex was being particular. The first sketch had been a good one, but the more finished tattoos Rex saw, the firmer his own ideas became. He was making another modification to Zeke’s current drawing when Amanda’s voice carried from the door.

“I said no.” Amanda’s annoyed tone caught at Rex’s ear, even though the music. He glanced up as she continued. “Louise wasn’t a member, even if she hangs out with Zeke now. We have
rules
.”

The door slammed and the deadbolt was locked. Desdemona appeared to be visibly surprised as Amanda marched back across the shop. She looked a bit shaken and Tex handed her a drink. “Some people have no respect for anything,” she muttered before taking a grateful sip.

Zeke glanced toward the door. “Did someone say Louise is here? Then let her in!”

Amanda glared at him. “I don’t care if you’re doing her. She wasn’t a Plume member and this is a private party.”

Zeke’s eyes narrowed as he pointed to the floor. “My shop,” he said quietly. “I get to make
some
of the rules here.”

Rex noticed that Desdemona was looking wary. He could sense that Zeke was very angry, but didn’t know how to diffuse the situation. Someone turned down the music as everyone watched Amanda and Zeke square off.

“You didn’t have the right to give her a Plume tattoo!” Amanda said, her cheeks flushed.

“I have the right to give anyone any tattoo I want,” Zeke said, his voice still low and menacing. He bit off the words. “It’s my shop.”

“But the Plume was ours! She snuck in and broke the rules.”

“Amanda, it wasn’t your fault,” Tex said, putting a hand on Amanda’s shoulder.

“She did the show with Rex,” Zeke retorted. “She should get some credit for that. Didn’t a lot of you pose for her?”

There were some nods of assent, but people still watched Amanda. Her opinion carried more weight than Zeke’s with this crowd.

But not as much as Rex’s.

“I think Louise should be let in,” Rex said, his tone firm. “She wasn’t a member, but she had ties to the Plume even so.”

Amanda inhaled sharply. “You’re bending the rules for her.”

“The Plume is gone, Amanda,” Rex said gently. “And so are the rules.”

Amanda put down her drink, hard. “Then let her in, but do me the favor of keeping her friend out.”

“Friend?” Zeke asked.

“She’s evidently brought her roommate. She said she didn’t know the party was private tonight and wants the other one to get in as well. This isn’t a fucking open house!”

“Joanna,” Rex said, exhaling her name. Joanna was Louise’s roommate.

Amanda flicked a look at him. “How do you know her name?”

“She spent a week in the Dungeon, being trained by me.” Amanda’s brows rose. “Let her in.”