Inked by Karen Chance; Marjorie M. Liu; Yasmine Galenorn; Eileen Wilks

Author:Karen Chance; Marjorie M. Liu; Yasmine Galenorn; Eileen Wilks
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: American Light Romantic Fiction, Romance - Paranormal, Fiction - Romance, American Science Fiction And Fantasy, Anthologies (multiple authors), Fantasy fiction, paranormal, General, Romance, Fantasy, American, Occult fiction, Romance & Sagas, Fiction, Short stories, Tattooing, Urban Fantasy
ISBN: 9780425231975
Publisher: Berkley Pub Group
Published: 2010-09-15T20:09:34.227000+00:00

A photographer stood on top of the bed, taking pictures. Another crouched off to the side, doing similar work from a different, more intimate angle. Intense men, with jobs to do. Sweat rolled down their faces. Beyond them, leaning against the wall, I glimpsed three children.

I recognized Samuel and Lizbet immediately, but the other little girl with them did not immediately remind me of Winifred. The coloring was the same—dark hair, dark eyes—but there was a quality to her face that was distinctly different.

None of them was watching the sex. But not, I thought, because of embarrassment. Just boredom. As though they had seen the same scene played out so many times it meant nothing. Trays of empty glasses were at their feet, along with water pitchers and small bowls of diced watermelon. There to run errands, I guessed. Better than the alternative.

The crowd swallowed them. Ernie moved around several cameramen and disappeared. Less than a minute later a throaty, satin voice said, “I have business. Everyone, come back after lunch.”

Men and women exchanged startled looks, but no one argued, not even a grumble. Without a word, they put down whatever they were holding—cameras, makeup, iced tea—and streamed past us to the door, exiting into the garden. The children followed, joined by Ernie. All of them, except him, stumbled when they saw Jean—staring at her with horror. Not a peep left their mouths, though. Too well trained.

The man having sex with the Black Cat was the last to go. He strode out naked, still erect and holding himself in his fist. Not caring who watched. And perhaps, in this place, no one did care. But that still left behind a handful of Russian bodyguards—and the Black Cat, lounging on silk sheets. Her aura pulsed with a dark fire that I had only ever seen in one other demonic parasite—the Queen of them all, Blood Mama.

This was not her. But the parasite was very old.

Unlike its host—an unconventionally beautiful woman. Her jaw was a little too thick, her nose a bit too pointed. She had a wide mouth and a crooked smile. But there was something in that smile, and something in those features—energy, personality, a crackle—cemented by the pure, raw aggression in her blue eyes.

Hard to know how much of that was from the demon—and how much was leaking through from the real woman, whoever she might have been.

“Now this is a sight,” said the Black Cat softly. “Two Hunters, in one place. That just can’t be right.”

“Run, if you like,” Jean said in a cold voice. “But don’t pretend you’re not frightened.”

“I’m not,” replied the zombie, stretching sinuously. Her body was all woman, covered in dimples and curves that not even her tattoos could obscure. But those tattoos…Those tattoos were something else. As the eye traveled, so did each tattoo—claws becoming roses, fangs lengthening into thorns. Petals and vines dripped with sweat, curving in an inked tangle across her breasts, up to the base of her throat. Even her fingers had been tattooed, but the art stopped around her pubic hair.

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