Page 6 of Virgil's Demons

The six men looked rough...dangerous. They wore their leather jackets like second skins. The air shifted as they entered the small parlor, it thickened with their presence.

The Royal Bastards had finally paid me a visit and I wasn't sure what to expect.

They were trouble with a capital T, and I had to admit, I was intimidated. My eyes looked over at Ray, my best friend and business partner, who was back, managing the cafe. She noddeda me in reassurance. Skye, our other tattoo artist, wasn't around tonight. She'd taken the night off which meant it was just us holding the fort, but I knew my girl had her hand on that rifle behind the counter and was ready to rain fire on these guys if they got out of hand.

The man standing up front by the counter, his energy hit me the hardest. The others brought their own storm with them, but he… he was different. His energy wasn't just dark—it wastortured. Haunted. I could sense it. The weight of something that ate at him from the inside out. And damn if it didn't pull me in like a riptide. It didn't help that he was tall, his hair a dirty blonde, disheveled as if he spent all his time running his hands through the thick locks. He had this look on his face as if he were constantly on alert. He watched everything, his bright blue eyes glancing everywhere as if memorizing the location and everything and everyone in it.

I looked up and as his eyes locked onto mine, it was like a magnet drew us together by something more primal than either of us could control. His stare was intense, stormy. The kind that could strip you bare without saying a word. I felt it ripple through me, a hot, slow burn that started in my gut and spread through my chest and down between my thighs.Although dangerous, I liked it.

One of the men, one I recognized as the Fire Chief's son, grinned, breaking the tension. "Heard you're the best tattoo parlor in town."

"Well, you heard right," I said, barely glancing at him, my eyes still caught on the man to his right. He hadn't broken the connection either. His lips twitched into the ghost of a smile.

"Well, it's nice to meet you…" he reached a hand out and I tore myself away from the man's gaze to shake his hand.

"Name's Brim."

"I-I'm Barythaya."

"Barythaya," he sounded it out and nodded. "Cool name."

He gripped the man behind him by the shoulder. The man removed his cowboy hat and nodded at me. "This here's Saddle, that idiot over there is Guardian, you've got Hart…"

"I know you. You're Quiver's husband."

Hart grinned at me. "Yup. In the flesh."

I let out a slow breath, controlling my anxiety. It was a lot of emotions hitting me at once, pride emanated from Hart at the sound of Quiver's name.

"I know your wife too," I uttered to Brim.

"She's hard to miss," he gushed.

I couldn't help but smile at them as he continued to introduce the men, and then he grabbed the man to his right by the back of his neck. "This newbie here is our Chaplain,Virgil."

My eyes fell on the man whom I had this instant connection with and I felt the heat crawl up my cheeks. I was a thirty-six-year-old woman feeling sheepish over this stranger, how ridiculous.

"Virgil. As in Dante's Inferno?"

He simply nodded, barely smiling. "So I'm told."

"What about Dante?" Brim asked.

"Virgil wasDante'sguide through purgatory. He led him through the different levels in the book."

Brim nodded. "Makes sense as to why Bulldog chose you, brother," he smacked him on the shoulder and looked back at everyone. "Well, let's get this done, then," Brim said, stepping forward, but Saddle cut him off with a chuckle.

"Brim goes last, we all know he'll take forever deciding where he wants to put this thing," Saddle teased, slapping him on the back.

"I'm not here to baby you through picking out where to put your ink, man," Guardian muttered. "Let the artist do her job."

They were bantering, but I barely heard them. My focus was on Virgil, on the way his body moved toward mine like gravity was pulling him closer. He stood in front of me now, his presence overwhelming but not in a bad way. No, it was laced with something else. Something that made my skin prickle and my heart race.

"Let me guess," I said, arching an eyebrow as I leaned against the counter. "You're here for something small? Or you gonna let me cover up some of those other mistakes you're hiding?"

A grin spread across his lips, slow and wicked. "I don't dosmall."

Heat rushed through me at the double meaning, and I had to fight to keep my calm. "Alright, big guy," I said, pushing off the counter. "Come on, sit down."

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