by Jane Kindred
The door opened as he was pulling the shirt over his head, and Rhea made a sharp little noise like she’d caught him naked.
He tugged the fabric down, head emerging through the collar, and grinned sheepishly as he put his glasses back on. “Sorry. Guess I could have changed in the bathroom.”
Her eyes were even wider than usual and her cheeks were flushed. Maybe it was from being out in the cold. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t been wearing any pants.
“Must have been boring sitting around with Lucid Ass Leo last night, huh?”
Rhea peeled off her gloves and unwound her scarf as she headed into the back. “I wouldn’t say boring, no.” She returned, sans hat and coat, with that little spike of silvery-lavender hair hanging in her eyes.
Goddamn, she was cute. The word wouldn’t have done her justice if he’d used it to describe her to someone else, but it was the best word to capture the sum total of her mannerisms and quirks—the wide, dark-rimmed eyes that crinkled with easy amusement and sarcasm, the combination of almost haphazard yet defiant dress that at the same time managed to seem completely unselfconscious and totally endearing, the no-nonsense way she spoke as if she didn’t give a damn if she impressed anyone; they could take her as she was or get bent. But the wild, punky hair had its own separate personality, rebelling from and complementing her at the same time.
She was staring at him like he’d forgotten to zip his fly. He checked to be sure.
“So...was I rude to you again? I hope I didn’t do anything out of line.”
Rhea studied him. “You absolutely don’t remember anything that happens when you’re in that state?”
“No. Shit, I did something, didn’t I? That’s why you left. I’m sorry, I wish I could—”
“You didn’t do anything. I mean, you tried to get me to sit on your—”
“No.”
“Yeah. But it was nothing I couldn’t handle. I mean the come-ons,” she added hastily. “But he—you—said some curious things about your tattoos.”
“Did I?” Leo leaned back against the front counter, palms braced against the edge. Was he finally going to get some answers his conscious mind didn’t have access to? Having Rhea talk to his alter ego might turn out to be useful. Unless she found out something he didn’t want her to know. He only wished he knew what there was to find out. “Like what?”
“He didn’t remember getting them. And he didn’t even know about the Midgard Serpent. He thinks you got it to punish him in some way. To control him.”
So the other him didn’t have a clue about the marks either.
Leo tried not to let the disappointment show on his face. “You realize you keep talking about me in the third person.”
Rhea shrugged in acknowledgment. “It’s a little weird trying to have a conversation with someone about their other self. He kept using the third person when he talked about you. He calls you...”
Leo waited, but she didn’t finish the sentence. “He calls me what?”
Her cheeks reddened slightly. “Leo the Dull.”
“Really.” He wasn’t sure why that annoyed him so much. “Did you tell him we call him the Lucid Ass?”
“It didn’t come up.”
“Well, maybe next time you can let him know.” The rush of air filling his chest and the tightness in his jaw were confusing until it dawned on him that he was jealous of his own alter ego. The idea of him spending time with Rhea—propositioning Rhea—made him want to call the asshole out and challenge him. But the “asshole” was himself. It occurred to him that perhaps this response wasn’t entirely healthy.
Rhea’s expression was guarded. “So, did you? Get the tattoo to punish him, I mean.”
Why did he get the feeling she was mad at him about it? “Maybe. I don’t know.”
She laughed, obviously disbelieving. “How can you not know?”
This was starting to go places he really didn’t want it to go. On the other hand, she already knew more about him than he knew about himself. What was the point in keeping what he did know a secret?
“Because...I don’t actually remember getting it.” There. It was out. She was looking at him the way he’d expected her to. Not only did he have an alternate personality he had to tie up at night, he had blackouts and giant gaps in his history no sane person would have.
“Neither of you remember getting the tattoo?” She glanced at his wrists. The way he was gripping the counter made the allrune and Mjölnir prominently visible. “Do you remember getting those?”
He didn’t want to answer. But she already knew.
“I only know they weren’t always there and they weren’t by choice. But when they were put there and by whom...?” He shrugged. “I couldn’t tell you. Jörmungandr...” He paused, the memory of buzzing tattoo needles tugging faintly at him. He remembered the aftercare, peeling back the gauze bandage and seeing the intricate black designs, holding his arm before the mirror and turning until he could see the shape of the coiling snake. “Jörmungandr, I think I had done myself. But that’s all I know.”
Rhea studied him, trying to determine, no doubt, whether he was full of shit. “Do you have any long-term memory?”
Leo gave her a half smile. “Are you analyzing me?”
Her eyes narrowed. “That’s what he said.”
“Well.” Leo shrugged and pushed away from the counter. “We both share the same skin.” He put his hands in his pockets, uncomfortable with her scrutiny. “So I promised to work off my debt. What else do you need done? I checked downstairs earlier and didn’t find any new graffiti, and I cleaned up a bit in here.”
Rhea glanced around, her eyes taking in the gleaming hardwood. “Did you scrub the floor?”
“Yeah.”
She looked at him curiously. “I don’t have a mop.”
“I just used a sponge and some warm soapy water. I followed up with a towel to make sure the water didn’t soak in.”
She was still looking at him funny.
“What?”
“Nothing, I just—Well, I didn’t expect you to be crawling around on my floor on your hands and knees.” That little flush was back in her cheeks. “But thank you. It looks great.” She glanced around once more, avoiding his eyes. “I did want to go over the inventory. It’s not much yet, a dozen bottles of ink, a small supply of needles and accessories, and the disinfecting supplies. I started a spreadsheet to estimate how much I’ll need and how much this is going to set me back before I start to turn a profit, but I couldn’t get all the columns to add up.”
“I can take a look at it for you.”
“Could you? That would be great. Even if you could just finish entering the physical inventory and tallying it, that would really help. The more complex stuff can wait.”
Leo smiled as Rhea fished the tablet out of her bag. “I’m pretty good with data. I’m used to working in a lab.”
While Rhea pulled up the spreadsheet to show him how far she’d gotten, the bell on the door jingled. A woman who looked as much like Rhea as she could without being her twin—except for the long, dark chestnut hair in a high ponytail and bangs—stepped inside, blowing on her bare fingers and stamping her feet.
“Goddamn. It’s colder than a witch’s tit.” She grinned as Rhea turned in surprise. “Hi, brat! I figured I’d come by and see your new digs while Rafe is busy dealing with the frozen pipes at one of his worksites.”
“Phoebe.” Rhea’s expression was a mixture of pleased and annoyed as she went to greet her. “It’s not ready yet. I told you I’d have everyone in for the grand opening. How did you even know where it was? I didn’t tell anyone I’d signed a lease.”
“Seriously, Rhe. A new tattoo shop opens up in Uptown Sedona with the name Demoness Ink? Give me some credit.”
Leo studied the spreadsheet as
if greatly interested in it. If Rhea didn’t want to introduce him, that was her business.
But he hadn’t escaped her sister’s notice. “You already have a client?”
Rhea cleared her throat. “This is Leo. He’s my employee.”
“Employee, huh? Well, aren’t we fancy. Hi, Leo. I’m Phoebe, the sister that doesn’t look just like her.”
Leo stepped forward to shake her hand. “I wouldn’t say that. There’s actually a striking resemblance. If I hadn’t already met Theia, I might have guessed you were the twin.”
“You’ve met Theia?”
Rhea’s posture had gone stiff. He realized he’d stepped in it.
“We were in the same program at NAU.” He figured mentioning they’d dated would compound the mistake. “Well, I’d better get started on that inventory. Nice to meet you, Phoebe.” He slunk away into the back room before Rhea murdered him with her eyes.
* * *
Rhea switched on the electric kettle on the little table in the waiting area after Leo tactfully pulled the curtain closed behind him. “Do you want some tea? I’ve also got cocoa.”
Phoebe was giving her the eye as she took off her coat. That I-know-what-you’re-up-to eye that had often led to bargaining and blackmail when they were younger and Phoebe had caught one of the twins trying to keep something from Ione.
“Stop looking at me like that.”
“You like him.” Phoebe’s voice was low but not low enough.
“Shut up. What are we, twelve?”
“You’re blushing.” Phoebe pinched her cheek, and Rhea smacked her hand away. “And that was your work on his arm. So I know you’ve read him. Spill. I want details.”
Rhea lowered her voice, hoping Phoebe would take the hint. “There are no details. You’re out of your mind. He’s just my employee.” She got some mugs and spoons from the shelf and brought the bin of assorted tea and cocoa packets, choosing a jasmine green for herself as she sat on the funky red leather couch she’d found at a flea market.
Phoebe grabbed a cocoa packet and plopped down beside her. “This is me you’re talking to.” She ripped open the packet and dumped the powder into one of the mugs. “I know that look.” She glanced at the curtain. “And damn. Is it hot in here or is it just him?”
“Jesus, Phoebes. Would you please keep your voice down?”
Phoebe grinned. “Not so funny when the shoe’s on the other foot, eh? You and Theia were merciless when I met Rafe. I think turnabout’s fair play.”
“Yeah, well, your sex tape was all over the internet. I think you had a little ribbing coming.”
Phoebe grimaced. “You are forbidden from mentioning the sex tape. We all agreed never to speak of it again. How was I supposed to know there was a reporter hiding in the bushes outside his house?”
The kettle beeped, and Rhea poured water into Phoebe’s cup. “You might have thought about closing the curtains, Slutina.”
“Ouch. The claws are coming out.” Phoebe stirred her cocoa. “You don’t usually get this defensive unless there’s something to defend. Does this have anything to do with Theia?”
Rhea kept her expression neutral as she poured the water over her tea bag. “No, it has nothing to do with Theia.”
“She says she doesn’t know why you’re mad at her.”
“Phoebe.” Rhea closed her fist around the hot mug. “I told you not to talk to her about it.”
“I didn’t. She called me to see if I knew what was going on with you. She’s worried about you.”
“So you told her.”
“I didn’t. I said she’d have to talk to you because it wasn’t my business. But we all think it’s a little weird.”
“Phoebe!” The heat of the mug was becoming intense, and Rhea uncurled her fingers before it burned her palm. “I can’t believe you. I tell you something about Theia in confidence and you not only discuss it with her but you decide to bring Di into it?” It was the nickname the three of them used for Ione. Her given name was actually Dione, but she hated it.
Phoebe blew on her cocoa before taking a careful sip. “There was no ‘bringing.’ You know I don’t volunteer information to Ione. But apparently Rafe and Dev got together—Dev’s looking for work now that he’s no longer employed by the Covent, and Rafe might be able to use him in operations for the construction business—and I guess Rafe might have mentioned something about you two not talking.”
Rhea growled as she wrapped the string of her tea bag around her spoon. “Which he knew because you told him.”
Phoebe had the grace to look chagrined. “I talk about things I care about with Rafe. And I care about you. So, yeah, I told him. Which was kind of your fault, if you think about it. Because you told me to ask him about the ghost riders and I had to provide context.”
“Which included, ‘Oh, by the way, Rhea’s being a bitch and not talking to Theia.’”
“Nobody thinks you’re being a bitch. And yes, of course it did. I’m thorough.” Phoebe tried to hide her smile. “Anyway, don’t think I haven’t noticed that you’ve steered me away from the subject of hot Thor in there.”
Rhea slapped Phoebe’s arm with the spoon, which turned out to be still hot from the tea bag, and Phoebe made a little squeal of protest.
“So what’s the story?” Phoebe rubbed at the spot. “You didn’t just happen to hire somebody who was in Theia’s grad program. What’s his deal?”
“There’s no deal. He saw my Help-Wanted sign and came in, thinking I was Theia. After a little awkwardness around the confusion, I hired him.”
“Why is a molecular biology student looking for work in a tattoo shop?”
“Ex-molecular biology student, and how do I know?”
“How well did he know Theia?”
Rhea sighed and drank her tea. “They dated, apparently.”
“Oh, honey.” Phoebe was giving her another one of her looks, only this one was akin to pity. “You’re doing that thing again.”
“What thing?” Rhea looked over her shoulder to make sure the curtain was still closed. “There’s no ‘thing.’”
“That thing where you try to compete with Theia when she’s not even competing with you. You know you’re your own person, unique and interesting and sexy.”
“Jesus, Phoebes.”
“You don’t need validation from someone who was into Theia to prove you’re valuable.”
“That is not what I’m doing, and shut up, I don’t do that.” Rhea set her mug down forcefully. “Sometimes you’re worse than Ione.”
Phoebe set down her own mug with a glare. “Okay, that was mean.”
“Then stop being bossy and judgmental.”
“Rhea.”
Rhea leaned close to her, keeping her voice to a low murmur. “If you must know, I did read him. And the vision I got was of me riding him like a Brahma bull on Rodeo Day. So don’t tell me I’m looking for validation, because I got it without even asking for it, and I’ve never even had sex that good in my actual life.”
“Wow.” Phoebe raised her eyebrows and looked pointedly in the direction of the curtained back room. “That wouldn’t have anything to do with that snake tattoo peeking out of his sleeve, would it?”
Rhea scrubbed her hands over her face and smoothed her hair back, palms pressed to her crown. “I am so screwed.” She and Phoebe locked eyes at the inadvertent pun and burst out laughing.
When the laughter subsided, Rhea sighed. “There’s a lot more I can’t get into right now, but the tattoo is apparently meant to contain the destructive energy of the Midgard Serpent.”
“The way Dev’s tattoo keeps Kur caged inside him?”
“Not exactly.” Rhea glanced nervously over her shoulder again. “It’s more like his own negative potential.”
“S
o you don’t think he’s like Rafe and Dev.”
Rhea stared into her empty cup. How was this happening? Was she really “destined” somehow to be with Leo because of serpent energy and Lilith blood? Were all the Carlisle sisters cursed because of crazy Madeleine Marchant being burned at the stake in 1462?
“Rhea?”
“Hmm? Sorry. No, I don’t think he’s a shifter.” What she thought seemed even more improbable. That he was something more than just a mortal man with a mystical propensity to transform into something serpentine, like Rafe Diamante or Dev Gideon did, at the touch of the Carlisle sisters’ demon blood. She had also seen the visions of the Wild Hunt, and a battle in a field of snow, and talking foxes.
She was about to say more when the curtain opened with a loud scrape of the wooden rings on the rod. Unusually loud, like he’d been waiting for his moment to emerge and wanted to make sure they noticed. Crap. How much had he heard? She thought back frantically over the last several seconds.
“I think I’ve got your spreadsheet sorted.” He held up the tablet.
Rhea couldn’t tell from the look on his face whether he’d heard anything embarrassing. “That was quick. I was tearing my hair out over that thing.”
“You just had a couple of little errors in your formula.”
Rhea laughed. “Very diplomatic.” She rose and went to the shelf to get him a cup, trying to keep from being awkward. “Do you want some tea or cocoa?”
“Actually, I realized I hadn’t eaten, so I thought I’d go out and get a sandwich or something if you can spare me?”
“Of course.”
Leo grabbed his coat and hat from the back room and set the tablet on the counter. “Would either of you like anything?” If he’d heard anything mortifying, he wasn’t letting on.
Rhea picked up the tablet and pretended to look over the spreadsheet. “No, I’m good.”
