Undertaker Sara Tattoo Novels & Stories

But, he was fast in catching me by my arm again. “Laura, stop this. You can’t mess with them. The tattoo they have on their arm is a symbol of a gangster biker’s group back in Emerald City. Some say they are contracted assassins. Just listen to me. I will keep you safe, sweetheart” he said those words in a tone that I could believe he meant his words. But, I wanted to know more on who had sent them to kill me. I had no interest in him being a gentleman to me that day! Sweetheart, my foot!

Scar is seated on the bed operating a laptop,she looked up to the man beside her tall and well built,his eyes deep like eyes that held many secrets and knows maybe too much. “Marcus,that works well in our favor, you'll upload the video,my health report,the scan results and everything related to my failing health on my official page when I step out,let's use their delusion against them” She scoffed reading comments under a post bashing her. “Karma,they say karma caught me,that bitch karma is scared of me” He slowly unbottoned his shirt revealing a tattoo covering his chest and stomach,an eagle holding a snake with it's claws,he got into the bathtub slowly.

I stare despite myself. They are beautiful. An intricate network of runes and tribal symbols twines over her skin, layered and seamless. Her right hand is so detailed it almost looks like a black lace glove. I wonder how long it took to get it done. “Private Larkin, this is Sage, our tattoo artist.” “Hi,” I say, giving her a small nod. “Sage, Private Larkin is our newest recruit. Her tattoo needs to be discreet, please, but otherwise proceed as usual.” Edwardo gives me a brief nod, Sage a small smile, and then he steps back out of the door, leaving me standing there really fucking confused.

“I need to change.” I did, but the driver adjusted the rearview mirror, leering. “Hey. Eyes on the road,” I snapped. One moment, shorts and a T-shirt. The next, a sleeveless, backless dress with a neckline plunging to her navel. I was about to say something about her clothing choice, but my attention caught on her arm. That’s when I saw it - the tattoo. Still red and swollen. Same style, size, and color as Sareena’s, but where Sareena’s said Love / Family, hers read Love / Hate. If you weren’t looking closely, you’d miss it.

"They stopped suddenly, too, as if he thought we were a...lost cause." Tristan's gaze met hers. "Was there anything else you can recall about the man tonight?" She went to shake her head, but then something flickered to mind. "He had a tattoo on his left pec, over his heart. It was about three inches long." She straightened, making Brady shift his hand to her hip. "I need something to draw on." Ceara stood and went to a shelf, bringing back a pad of paper and pen.

I put my hand on his neck to check for a pulse only to find it gone. I sigh. All this travel for nothing. “There is no pulse. Lets bag him for cremation. Nobody left behind.” Rob immediately gets to work and Chris helps where he can. Terry and Logan come back a few minutes after carrying another body. “Who is that?” I ask them. “This my good sister is the real Quinton. We can confirm this too. He has a ‘loyal to killian’ tattoo on his ass. Of all the places to place the tattoo, he chose his ass.” “What makes you sure that he is the real one and it is not the one that Rob and Chris are busy bagging?”

Then, I saw him standing by a door to a room, or somewhere. He had taken off his shirt. His upper body appeared bigger. They were tattoos all over his back, his trousers hung low on his waist, dangerously low. I could run my hands through this type of body all day without getting tired. He was receiving a phone call. He was immensely focused. I stood still, waiting for him to finish. His words didn’t make sense at first, until it got to the part where he said: “She doesn’t know a thing. I have it all under control… In the end everything will be mine.” His words made me tremble.

"My name's Philip, P.H.I.L.I.P, can you call me that?" "Geez, okay, Philip, can I talk now?" He arched an eyebrow and the younger sighed nodding. "So, I have a doubt" "Go ahead, I have to go home" He said impatiently. "You're a stripper, right? The goddamn know stripper Philip, the one who works at the most famous nightclub and the boy everyone wants to fuck with... Hm, who's virgin, how ironic" Mikhail Winters said with sarcasm dripping from his mouth "Philip James, the untainted stripper, right?"

Nysaa shot him a glare, her eyes sharp and defiant. "Let's not get into that. It's my business, isn't it?" He chuckled, understanding that perhaps it was a sore subject. "Fair enough. Just trying to make conversation." She let out a sarcastic chuckle, her words dripping with bitterness. "And why would you want to hear about my problems, bartender? You just pour drinks and take my money." He leaned in a bit closer, his voice low. "Well, for starters, you're my customer. And you seem like you could use someone to talk to."

In her final moments of life, Lara came across Carla and in the nick of time, turned her. Turning in vampiric terms was yet another profound matter. Lara took Carla’s memories and wiped them from her mind, leaving within her, a new soul. Carla was Lara’s trusted assistant, her right-hand man and bodyguard. But even without her memories, Carla retained the purity of her soul. She was kind and innocent, and that part of her alone made me fill up with remorse for not being able to reciprocate her love.