Inked: Climax Clan, #1

By Prometheus Susan

Through the years Clayton has seen changes in society and the tattoo world. He has built his shop, Inked, to be a sought-out place for both humans and the supernatural. One thing that has eluded him all these years, the true love of a mate. 

 

 Echo set out on her own after her parents disowned her. Training to be a tattoo artist she witnesses a horrific crime. With one attempt on her life, not waiting for another, she disappears. Her journey to escape with her life leads her to Inked. 

 

Is Echo the one that Clayton has been searching for all these years?  

Can Clayton save her when danger comes calling? 

Will Inked be their saving grace? 

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Prometheus Susan
• Release date: Dec 27, 2022
• ISBN: 9798215520383

Prometheus Susan

Prometheus is the mother of two boys, 19 and 26. As well as a loving wife to her husband of 31 years.  She lives in northern Illinois with her family, two cats,pet bunny, Fred and a puppy, Bear.. An avid Chicago Bears football fan regardless of how bad they play. But differs from the rest of the family in regards to baseball. They are Cub fans while she is a Brewers fan.  For years, Prometheus has had stories floating around in her head when she finally decided to put them to paper. Following a long-held dream of being an author. Bringing the crazy muses that she had to life, sharing them with everyone else.  Besides her love for her family and friends, coffee is her biggest love and addiction. The summer will find her at the beach or waterpark, soaking up those beautiful rays of sunshine. She finds cooking to be very relaxing, experimenting with new recipes. Crafting is one of her other ways to relax and unwind. Pink and sparkly is her signature. 

Book preview

Inked

Book 1 of the Climax Clan Series

Prometheus Susan

Copyright © 2021 Prometheus Susan

All rights reserved

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

Cover design by: Tiffany Purdon

Author: Prometheus Susan

Publisher: Prometheus Susan

Contents

Title Page

Copyright

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

​About the Author

Upcoming Titles in the Climax Clan Series

Sneak Peek at Spark

Other titles by Prometheus Susan

Clayton grabbed some coffee before he headed downstairs. Freshly showered, wearing jeans and a polo. The fact that he had those in his closet surprised himself. Had it been that long since he had gone out besides going to work? He knew that answer. Yes.

He walked in the back door, the words he was about to say to Sam stuck in his throat. The most delicious scent greeted him. Where or who did that smell belong to? He needed to know, for whoever it was, was his mate. Clayton had to take a step back, leaning against the door. His mate had walked into his shop. That one word was being repeated in his mind. Mate!

To my loving husband, without your support this dream would not be a reality.

To my dear friend, Karen. Thank you for always being my voice of reason. For letting me bounce ideas around, for being there when I need to laugh, cry, or scream.

To all my readers. Thank you for coming along on this journey with me.

Chapter 1

It was becoming that time again. Time to reinvent himself. He did this a few times over the years, every twenty to thirty years or so. Clayton stayed to his given birth name throughout the years. It was what his mama had named him; it was who he was. He was born in 1909. By today's standards, he was over a hundred years old. The thing was, he didn't look it. He looked to be in his thirties.

He came from a long line of pure vampires. Most of his family was alive, thriving, and doing well. All the way to his great great grandmother, great great grandfather, up to his parents. They lived up in the wilds of Alaska. The winters were perfect, with endless nights. From May until August, with the infinite daytime, they had a small place in North Dakota. His family made sure no one lived close to them in any location they settled on. Less prying eyes to see what they shouldn't.

It was easier to stay hidden years ago. Now there were too many cameras everywhere. Clayton's family looked out for one another, keeping their long-held secret close to them. They were not the only non-humans to call Alaska home. His best friends growing up were a couple of bear and wolf shifters. They stayed in touch after all these years. His friends had found their mates, had young. Sometimes he envied them. It was a long-held dream for any supernatural. To find your mate, that one love that touched your soul for all eternity.

His great great grandma would tell him his mate hadn't been born yet. It made sense. After a good hundred or so years on the earth, he was ready to find that one true love, settle down, and have little ones. He had seen his brothers find what he was searching for, even his sisters. Clayton lost count of how many nieces and nephews he had, including great ones. Seemed as though everyone was finding their mate but him. Had fate forgotten about him?

That was one reason why he settled in Vegas. It was far enough from the family that he didn't have to see the reminders of what he was missing. He would visit on holidays or when he needed a break from people. The town was an endless supply of blood donors. Sex was easy to find, with a price or without. The city came alive as the sun dipped down the western horizon until the first rays of morning lit up the darkened sky. It was a perfect location as far as he was concerned.

The artists he hired, nowadays, not many stuck around for more than a few years. It was a revolving door when it came to tattoo artists. Worked in his favor. They didn't notice that he never seemed to age. Years ago, he had bought the building that houses his shop. No landlord to question why the name on the rent checks never changed. In the beginning, it had been different.

Back fifty years ago, artists set up shop and stayed in one place. It got a little questionable when a couple noticed he didn't complain about body aches or he wasn't getting grey hair. Clayton left the business to them while he did a disappearing act. It was easier back then. He went home to visit his parents for a year or so before reemerging in a different city.

Chapter 2

He was a young man when he first saw someone receiving a tattoo. Clayton had been intrigued. Back in the 1930s, it wasn't as popular as it is nowadays. Most shops were set up in the artists' homes or the backrooms of businesses. Not advertised, to find one was word of mouth. His friend Dick had introduced him to Mark. Mark answered all his questions, going so far as to take him under his wing to teach him how to tattoo.

That was the beginning of his career. It was the only thing he was drawn to. He had tried to follow in his father's footsteps in being a healer for their kind. It didn't interest him. His uncle built custom furniture from the trees he took down on their property. Clayton had given that a try, but his mind got bored. His great great grandmother had tried to teach him how to cook. How to make the recipes that were handed down from generation to generation. He enjoyed eating what was made, but making it was a different story.

As time went on, he got better with his technique. Clayton found his calling in seeing a person and knowing what fits their personality. Listening to what they described and seeing the image in his head. Some listened to his suggestions, while others were set on what they wanted. Either way, he found placing ink on a body to be soothing, creative, and what he had been looking for.

It was during this time that he practiced on himself. The ink never stayed. His vampire metabolism healed the skin before the ink could set into the tissue. It was unnerving, frustrating as all hell. Clayton experimented with different household compounds to find one that would set the ink into his skin.

Coffee grounds did nothing except make his skin smoother. Water was useless. It helped the skin slough out the ink quicker. Whiskey burned like a mother fucker, and that was all. Baking soda soothed the irritated skin and sped up the healing, useless for what he was looking for. Sugar or flour had no effect. Clayton knew there had to be something that would set the ink in paranormal skin. If he could figure it out, his client base would grow.

Saltwater burned to the point he saw stars. The ink semi stayed. Some drew out but not all of it. Clayton changed the salt to water ratio, same effect. He got creative mixing the salt in different liquids. Coffee and tea didn't change the outcome. Bacon grease mixed with the salt moisturized his skin. He couldn't smell anything but bacon for days. After that little experiment, he couldn't look at a piece of bacon, or smell it cooking for months without it turning his stomach.

His mom was cleaning windows with vinegar when the idea came to him. Why not try mixing those two, vinegar and salt? It couldn't hurt, it either worked, or it didn't. Clayton was keeping his fingers crossed that it worked. He made the mixture, setting it by his machine as he went to work tattooing his forearm. After a few lines, he swabbed the liquid across his skin. There was some cursing that happened, possibly some screaming, tears streaming down his cheeks. The commotion he made drew most of the family to see what was wrong.

Once the initial burning subsided, he patted the area before covering it with a cloth. He thought that if the mixture stayed on the skin, then the likelihood that the ink would stay was higher. The suspense was killing him. Did his mixture work or not? He wasn't the only one that was interested in what he was doing. His best friends and family were right beside him. Each intrigued to different degrees. Some wanted their own tattoos, others seeing it as a breakthrough for their kind.

Chapter 3

His concoction worked. The following day, the ink was still there. It seemed that the combination of the salt and vinegar slowed down the healing, setting the ink. Clayton would see how the ink was after a few more days before he deemed it ultimately successful. He may need to tweak it more, maybe wrap the area with a soaked cloth longer than overnight. It was a live and learn experiment.

Clayton started another tattoo in a different place on his body. This one he wrapped overnight, then blotted it with the mixture throughout the day. He came to the conclusion that if it burned, it was still healing. Once it didn't hurt, it was healed. All he could smell was vinegar. Showers did not help when he had to put the solution back on his skin.

At the end of the seven days, the tattoo he had kept moist with the solution was vibrant. The first one had faded, not completely away. Either way, he had found a way to make tattoos hold in paranormal skin. This was groundbreaking. There was a market for this service. Word of mouth between their community. Humans would never need this added step when they got ink. Clayton knew he would have to keep it a secret.

Over the next few weeks, he placed tattoos on his body that he had been wanting. Each time using the solution until it didn’t burn. It was torture using that shit, but it worked. The pain was well worth it to have ink on his body. Over the years, he added more color to his existing tattoos. Freshen them up here and there.

As time went on, more vibrant colors came out on the market. He was one of the first to try them out. Clayton figured if he hadn't tried the new products, how could he recommend them to clients? Or stock them in his shop? He had gained a reputation for using the best products and equipment. That was the reason why nothing got used on a client until he tested it out first.

Piercings he stayed away from for himself. There was a time he did try to pierce his ear. The hole closed up, pushing out the metal. Next attempt, he tried using vinegar and salt. If it worked on tattoos, it had to work on piercings. The pain that shit brought about with a piercing was something he never wished to experience again. Clayton swore he saw stars and may have passed out.

He talked to one of his wolf shifter friends to experiment on them. She had been after him to figure out how she could have her ears pierced. There was only one way to tell, try it. She screamed, cursed him out, and shifted. That earring went flying across the room even with Clayton securing it. The elongating of her ear had sent the metal soaring out. That answered all his questions.

While he could tattoo his friends and make the ink stay, piercings were still a no-go. Unless there was a metal that could change its shape. As far as he knew, there was no such thing. He did think about asking a witch to enchant the hoop. From what his great great grandma mentioned, most enchantments did not work on their kind. No matter what he thought of, it wouldn't work. Supernatural’s could have their ink but not their body jewelry. At least he had figured out one part.

Chapter 4

He sat in his shop, taking in his surroundings. One wall was lined floor to ceiling with flip boards of tattoo images. Clayton had found that most on vacation that walked through