Ink Caps (Alchemy Ink)

Chapter 1

Chapter one

Becky

Alchemy Ink was one of those places I’d passed a million times on my way to work and made a mental note to go to.

Of course I needed to build up the nerve to get an actual tattoo first.

And I finally arrived at the door, but it wasn’t even for me.

Kevin had begged me to go with him, and I sucked at putting my foot down. We’d been dating for six months, and I started to hit the point where I wasn’t certain we would work out.

“Babe, hurry up.” Kevin strode in ahead of me. “We’re already late for the appointment.”

As if I hadn’t been here fifteen minutes ago, waiting for him. He reeked of some shit cologne like he’d been smoking and tried to cover it up, and I was happy to keep a few steps downwind.

The sign for Alchemy Ink featured the A as the philosopher’s stone symbol and the script in white against a black background.

When we stepped inside, the scent of incense drifted our way, thankfully cutting down on the odor of his cologne, and the interior décor drew my eye in every direction.

The walls were cream with wooden accents, the floor was glossy black tiles, and leather-bound books stood next to stones, glass vials, and a myriad of other shiny knickknacks on the shelves.

“Are you Nyx’s appointment?” a slender, dark-haired guy asked.

He had the whole emo rocker vibe going on with his shaggy dark hair, gauges, and kohl-lined eyes.

If I stared a little longer, it was because he was more my usual type than my boyfriend.

Kevin and I had been an online date meetup that just… hadn’t ended.

And I’d been lonely and pathetic enough to stay.

What could I say? After getting pissed and shat on by pets all day long at Kennett Vet, I was a little desperate for company not of the four-legged variety.

But my cat, Bast, didn’t approve of Kevin in the slightest, and she pissed in his shoes every time he stayed over.

I probably should listen to her. I had the intuition of a kumquat, and she had a honed douchedar.

And Kevin was the typical bro-type who usually set my nerves on edge.

“Yeah, I’m getting inked,” he said as if that wasn’t clear from the fact that he’d booked the appointment.

“Mm.” He cast him an unimpressed look. “Take a seat. Nyx will be out for you in a sec.”

“Remind me what you’re getting again?” I asked as we sat on one of the sage couches against the wall. My fingers itched to poke and prod the oddities on the shelves, from the bronze compass and brass sundial to the glass test tubes filled with green tendrils, but I stayed put.

“Becks, we talked about this last night,” he said with a huff.

Right. I’d been reading a book on my phone while he blathered on about his tattoo ideas. Most of them were cringe, but I didn’t have the heart to tell him so. Primarily because he wouldn’t listen to any feedback.

“I’m getting No Regrets in Gothic script across my back,” he said. “It’s going to look so badass.”

Oh. Oh no.

Maybe we needed to speed up the timeline of our breakup.

My palms broke into a sweat, not because of him getting a tattoo but because of the thought of that stuck on his body for eternity. The sex and conversation weren’t rocking my world, and the longer we were together, the more comfortable he got.

I was fast finding I did not like his comfortability. Any attempts he’d made at paying attention to what I had to say, at showing consideration, seemed to fly out the window far too fast.

However, I had already shown up here, and my curiosity about the shop itself trumped the company I was kept.

“Hey, are you Kevin?” a throaty female voice asked from the other side of the room.

I looked up and…damn.

The woman who stepped in wore a white tank with a cutoff black denim vest and black jeans that highlighted her muscular legs.

Her dark hair was pulled into a low ponytail, and she had the sort of lush lips I wanted to kiss.

Her thick eyeliner made her deep brown eyes pop, and the colorful tattoos lining her arms and the side of her neck elevated her hotness to eleven.

The past couple of years, my bi-curiosity was reaching a fever pitch, and after a string of dating guys like Kevin, the temptation to try expanding my search options…yeah, I wasn’t averse.

Her gaze snagged on me. “You my client?” The curl of her lips was cocky, and I liked the look a damn lot.

“No, that’s me.” Kevin hopped up and stood right in front of me. “She decided to come with me for support.” He glanced at me. “No fainting over needles, though, okay?”

I blinked at him. He wasn’t serious, was he? “I work as a vet.”

“Yeah, but those are animals,” he said as he started walking in the direction of Nyx.

I resisted the urge to scream into my fist. We’d talked about my line of work a fair fucking lot on our earlier dates. We’d been dating for six damn months, and the longer we were together, the less he seemed to know about me.

The guy at the front desk gave an up-nod in Kevin’s direction. “Good luck.”

If I needed a sign I was overdue for a breakup, that was the damn sign.

I followed Kevin and Nyx to her stall, where she had a massage table out, the tattoo gun on the counter, and a shit ton of sterilization equipment. In the corner stood an autoclave, not unfamiliar territory to me, given that I worked in delicate situations with animals and surgeries.

“You can take a seat here if you want to watch.” Nyx grabbed a chair and dragged it over closer to hers.

I reached for the arm of the chair, and our fingers grazed.

Electricity zipped through my veins, and the breath snagged in my throat.

I hadn’t experienced a reaction from a single touch like that in years.

“Thanks,” I said. Her eyes crinkled at the edges with a soft grin, and my heart thumped a little harder.

“Should I take my shirt off?” Kevin grabbed the hem of his tee.

“If you want the tattoo on your back, yeah,” Nyx responded, an edge of sarcasm to her voice. She pulled a sheet out with the words No Regrets in Gothic font across it and showed it to him. “This is what you requested. Are you still committed to that?”

Oh lord, she was trying to steer him out of this ditch. I’d been dating him long enough to recognize that attempt wouldn’t work.

“What’s with the third degree? You’re supposed to do what I tell you to.” Kevin crossed his arms.

My jaw clenched on reflex. Yeah, the entitlement that had been bubbling to the surface as of late was not a good look. I hated confrontation, but I’d even had to speak up recently. Looked like I’d need to say something again.

“Bring that attitude in, and you can get the hell out.” Nyx lifted her chin. She had a hand on her hip and fire in her eyes, and I shifted in the seat because, fuck, my pussy sparked to life.

“Look, I just want the tattoo I came here for,” Kevin said, his voice gruff and irritated.

“Mm.” Nyx held up the paper with the design. “And you’re stuck on the upper back.”

I bit my lip, trying to keep from laughing. Even now, she did her damnedest to dissuade him from the levels of bad.

“Yeah, I want people to be able to read it when I take my shirt off,” he said.

Okay, Bast was correct in her douchedar.

The temptation to call this quits now reared up. I could dump Kevin, skip the whole tattoo appointment, and head home. Maybe make myself a sandwich while Bast congratulated me in meows.

Except I wanted to get a tattoo once I worked up the nerve, and watching Nyx wouldn’t be a hardship.

My gaze drifted her way again. Fuck, those hot-as-hell biceps. I licked my lips. Fine, I could stay—at least for the appointment.

“All right, lie on your stomach.” Nyx gestured to the table. Her tone held a world-weariness that amused me, and interest percolated through my veins.

“What do you specialize in?” I asked, curiosity getting the better of me. The tattoos along her arms were intricate: a Gothic castle on one and the other featuring ivy winding through different skulls and bones.

“My favorite is trash polka, but I tend to veer toward trad designs with a lot of my work.” Nyx flashed me a sexy grin. Her gaze simmered as it settled on me, even as my boyfriend stripped his shirt off and lay down on the table.

I picked at my nails, a nervous habit I’d never shed.

“Do you have any ink?” Her dark eyes heated as she scanned me from head to toe, and a shiver rolled through me.

“Not at all.” I ran my palm across my forearm as if that’d erase the goose bumps.

“The needles aren’t that scary,” Kevin said, reminding me of course I was here with him, and it wasn’t just me and Nyx in the room.

“I know they’re not,” I said, my voice a little terse. Nyx set to work prepping the tattoo machine, her motions neat and methodical in a way I couldn’t help but be entranced by. What could I say? Competency was hot. She placed the sheet on Kevin’s back at the spot he’d mentioned.

“Then why are you always so bummed out when you have to give an injection?” he asked.

My fucking lord.

Irritation flashed through me hot and fierce. “Because maybe I’m not a psychopath, and it bums me out a little when I have to euthanize someone’s pet.”

“Vet?” Nyx asked.

“Yeah.” Her question cooled me down at once.

“Tough job.” Fuck, her curved lips, her wicked brows, her deep-set rich chocolate eyes. I couldn’t stop staring, and that was a problem. “How bad are the clients? And I’m not talking to pets.”

I shook my head, appreciation coursing through me. “The toughest part of it by far. You can’t imagine how many people get abusive with the staff.”

“Did you start yet?” Kevin glanced back.

“Nope, I need you to sit up and take a look at the placement.” Nyx shot me a look filled with pure empathy.

Clearly, she understood how to deal with problem clients.

I just hated that my boyfriend was the problem client.

She held up a mirror behind him so he could see where the tattoo would be on his back.