Demon's Fury: Part 1 of the Final Asylum Tales (The Asylum Tales series) by Jocelynn Drake

ink-encrusted paper towel and stuffed it into my pocket before standing.
    The paramedics stood and solemnly marched out of the room, their shuffling feet releasing flakes of dried blood into the air. The cop followed, his head down, looking pale but also relieved. His night in this grim place was almost over.
    The tattooing room had always been a place of new beginnings, second chances, and adventure. But this one screamed of death and violence. It was ugly and mocked everything that had drawn me to becoming a tattoo artist in the first place.
    Serah moved out of the entrance to let them pass, coming to stand beside me. “Trixie is being taken back by Carl and Ernie. They’re good guys and will see to it that she’s safe in your apartment before leaving.”
    “Thanks.”
    “I had no freaking clue she was an elf,” she continued in a low voice despite the fact that we were alone in the parlor. She shook her head as if she trying to dislodge the last of her shock.
    “That’s how glamour works.” I grinned down at her. Serah couldn’t have been more than five feet five in her low heels, making her seem positively tiny next to Trixie, but there was a spunkiness to the woman that kept you from brushing her off.
    She rolled her eyes and then turned serious. “I promise not to tell anyone.”
    “She’d appreciate it. She’s not hiding any longer, but everyone knows this disguise, so she keeps it just to make life easier.”
    “She was in hiding?” Serah said, but I was already shaking my head at her. The TAPSS investigator didn’t need to know about Trixie’s past. I was already cursing myself for that stupid slip.
    “I’ve not spoken with many elves. Are they usually so sensitive? I wouldn’t have expected that.”
    In general, that was a big NO. From my experience, elves were indifferent to humans because we were inferior. Luckily, my girlfriend had a different opinion. But her reaction was unexpectedly strong. The Summer Court seemed to be the most sympathetic of the three different clans. The Winter Court was cool, distant, and definitely frightening, from my limited experience. And the Svartálfar, or dark elves, were murderous assholes looking to kill or control everyone around them. They weren’t quite as bad as the Ivory Towers, but it wasn’t for a lack of trying.
    “Until recently, the elves have had some reproduction issues. I think Trixie’s a little sensitive about babies right now,” I said, hoping that was the reason. During my quick visit to see Mother Nature in September, I convinced the old girl to set the elves right again. Of course, there were days I still felt hollow and raw from that visit. Mother’s Nature’s home had put me at peace and holding my son had been the best experience in the world, but I couldn’t stay. There were still too many things I needed to do here.
    “Do you have any more insight you can offer on the tattoo or even the killer?” Serah asked and I was grateful she dropped the subject of Trixie and the elves.
    Stepping back over to the counter that held the original sketch as well as the copy used for the inking, I tucked my hands in my pockets to keep from touching anything. “Kyle reduced the size so it can easily be tattooed on an arm or just about anywhere on the body. With this potion, it would need to be on the left side. Preferably on the arm or shoulder—as close to the heart as possible for this to take effect.”
    “What about on the chest over the heart?”
    “Possible but less likely. Kyle hated tattooing on the chest and generally avoided it. Chest tattoos are a pain in the ass because the customer keeps breathing.”
    “Anything else?”
    I shrugged. “Just the basics—check fingerprints, Kyle’s schedule, phone records, and the paperwork the client had to sign before the tattoo was done.”
    “Police are working on it, but I doubt they’re going to find much on the paperwork side. I’d heard there are some artists who tattoo without