Disgusted, Devon shook her head. “I can’t believe there are people out there who actually want to hang people’s wings on their wall. It’s twisted.”

“You’re fully healed now?” asked Raini.

“Yes, so you don’t need to worry or fuss.” But Harper suspected they still would.

The doorbell chimed, and Harper’s first client for the day entered. Just like that, the girls switched into “work” mode and ushered the client over to Harper’s station.

Since they kept the name “Urban Ink” when they relocated the business, they also kept its rock/art/Harley Davidson vibe. In addition, they hung their old metal art on the bright white walls – each of which was an enlarged copy of a tattoo, like the tribal swirls, flock of ravens, and the Chinese dragons. Pretty much everything else, including the lighted tracing tables and vending machine, were new.

She figured she didn’t fit a person’s idea of what someone who co-owned a tattoo studio would look like. She wasn’t covered in tattoos and didn’t have dozens of piercings. One of her nipples were pierced, though, and she did have three tattoos, but all three were in white ink and hidden beneath her clothes. Why? Well, Harper didn’t have tattoos done for the hell of it. She only did it if the tattoo meant something to her and, as a private person, she didn’t want people asking what hers meant.

Later, as Harper was cleaning her equipment after doing a floral tattoo, the door once again opened. Tanner strolled in, bringing with him the scents of freshly baked bread, smoky meat, hot peppers, and mayonnaise.

“I come bearing gifts,” he said, holding up a deli takeout bag. He gave Harper a pointed look. “Knox wants to make sure you eat.”

Raini took the bag from Tanner. “Aw, that’s sweet of him.”

Harper snorted. “He just doesn’t want me leaving the studio to buy food.” Still, she telepathically thanked Knox and received a soft brush of his mind in response.

“Who can blame him?” asked Devon, sweeping the hardwood floor.

Rather than poking at the hellcat, Tanner turned to Harper, his expression somber. “I just saw Carla walking past here. I think she was about to come inside, but then she saw me.”

Great. “Maybe she was coming to say her goodbyes.”

“She’s leaving your lair?” The hope in Khloë’s voice made Tanner smile.

Harper nodded. “It’s probably best for all concerned.” She tipped her chin toward the breakroom. “Let’s go eat, I’m starving.”

After Tanner said his goodbyes and left, Khloë locked the door and flipped the sign to “Closed for Lunch”. With that, they then settled at the table in the breakroom.

Raini handed Harper one of the deli sandwiches. “I take it Kellen’s leaving with Carla and Bray.”

Unwrapping her sandwich, Harper nodded, “Yep.”

Devon put a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry, sweetie. I know you hoped to have a real relationship with him.”

“It would have been nice.” But Harper was done letting it get to her.

As she grabbed some bottles of water from the fridge and handed them out, Khloë said, “Kellen might be young and grieving, but it doesn’t give him the right to mess you around.” As if to punctuate that, Khloë bit hard into her sandwich. “You didn’t go looking for him. He came looking for you.”

“I got the distinct feeling that he didn’t like Roan much anyway,” said Devon. “It could be that he’s feeling guilty about it now that Roan’s dead. Still, it’s not an excuse to be a dick.”

Harper was about to say something else, but then the door swung open and several members of her family waltzed in: Jolene, Martina, Beck, and Ciaran. Harper guessed that Ciaran, who was Khloë’s twin, had teleported them all into the studio.

As Harper stood, Jolene forced a smile as she studied her from head to toe. “You’re really okay?”

“I told you I was fine.”

“Yes, but you’re a very good liar – I know, because I taught you well.” She gently pulled Harper into a one-armed hug. Wearing her usual smart getup of blouse, skirt and high heels, Jolene possessed an effortless veneer of elegance that many would envy. Strong, powerful, and fearless, she was the kind of demon who fit the role of Prime perfectly.

She was also the kind of woman you’d find at the center of a riot – a riot that she’d also quite possibly instigated.

Beck, Jolene’s anchor, cast Harper a gentle smile. “Good to see that you’re okay. I knew you would be.”

Pulling back, Jolene stroked Harper’s hair. “It’s really a shame those bastards are dead. Snapping their necks would have made me feel a whole lot better.”

Martina, her aunt, cupped Harper’s cheek. “Tell me Knox made them hurt,” she growled.

“Oh, they hurt,” Harper assured her.

Martina nodded, satisfied. The outgoing, softhearted, entrancingly beautiful imp was a total sweetheart. She also had a bad habit of setting shit on fire.

Ciaran frowned at Harper. “You sure you’re okay? You look like cra —”

Harper held up a hand. “Heard it several times, don’t need to hear it again.”

“Fine, fine.” Ciaran ruffled Khloë’s hair and said, “Hey, bitch.”

“Eat shit, asshole,” Khloë shot back. No one outside their lair would ever suspect the twins were very close, since they persisted in antagonizing each other.

Jolene placed her hands on Harper’s upper arms. “Tell me everything that happened.”

“I called you this morning and told you the story, even though you already knew most of it from Knox.”

“Yes, and both of you were very vague.”

“Of course we were, Grams.” Jolene was like a lioness when it came to her family. She was fierce in her protectiveness and would avenge any slight – no matter how small, no matter what it took. Being that she was batshit crazy, she was also the ultimate wild card and couldn’t be trusted not to overreact. Stripping someone’s home of every valuable they possessed, demolishing entire buildings, and threatening to destroy the Golden Gate bridge were all completely okay in Jolene’s book. She never let anything go.

Jolene began to pace. “You’re my granddaughter – you can’t expect me to ignore that this happened to you.”

“No, I can’t. If you want to look into it, fine. I’d appreciate it. But like I told you on the phone, you can’t be the one to dole out the punishment, Grams. It would make me and Knox look weak as Primes if we didn’t shovel our own shit.”

“Much as I hate it,” said Raini, “she’s right, Jolene. They’re Primes. They can’t have others deal with their problems.”

Khloë nodded. “We can’t be the ones to bring this fucker down, Grams. We can help find who hired the hunters, but then we have to tell Harper and Knox what we know.”

Jolene hissed. “All right.”

“You promise?” asked Harper. Her grandmother was a terrific liar, but she wouldn’t break a promise to someone she cared for.

Exhaling a put-out sigh, Jolene said, “I promise that I won’t overstep by killing the person behind the attack if I find them first.”

Harper smiled. “Thank you.”

“But I won’t hide that I’m looking for them. If I didn’t seek to avenge my own granddaughter, it would make me look weak.”

That was true. “Fine.”

Jolene kissed her cheek. “You take care. And get some sleep. You look like crap.”

“You make me feel so loved, Grams.”

“I do, don’t I?”

As Knox entered the studio later that day, he saw a yawning Harper do a long, languid stretch. His jaw clenched at the sight. He should have insisted on her staying home. Not that it would have achieved anything. His mate did her own thing. It was something he respected, but it also frustrated him at times.

His demon cheered up a little now that she was close. It had pushed Knox all damn day to go to her; check on her; stay with her.