“Did the tattoo at least come out good?” She didn’t volunteer her own tale of that evening, although it must not have been any secret that she had been the actual target of the whole disaster. But she had warned Roxy, and her partner in crime didn’t seem to be holding any grudges over the mess she had gotten her into.
“Why’d Abel figure you were gonna listen to him anyway? You’re not in the coven.” It wasn’t a question. She did lower her voice a bit at the final word. Not everyone in the room needed to hear about that side of the world and she didn’t want to deal with the bullshit that would follow that kind of crazy talk. “You were doomed with him anyhow.”
She was one to talk. Maybe it was a takes one to know one kind of affair. “He’s still hung up on my wanna-be sister-in-law.” She wrinkled her nose, which was ironically a habit she had picked up from Melisande.
“I guess someone's gotta like vanilla, but it's sure as shit not my flavor. Abe's gorgeous, and I bet it's fun being there for him to work through all that frustration of his. Hey," she spun to lean back against the bar, gripping it like she was struggling not to pull herself up to sit, "I don't need someone calling me Miss while they're pulling my hair."