Dread (Gods of War Book 2)

by Shannon West

  “That guy wanted to steal the truck,” Wilson helpfully supplied.

  “Yeah…firm grasp on the obvious, there, Jake,” Logan said, his tone snide. “Is any of this information you’re supposedly ‘seeing’ ever actually gonna be useful?”

  Wilson frowned as his face got red and Perry patted his shoulder. He glared at Logan. “Ease up, damn it. He’s doing the best he can with this, just like we all are.”

  Logan had the good grace to flush then. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. I’m nervous, I guess, but I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

  Wilson nodded, and Perry bumped his shoulder with his. Once again, Luke wondered exactly how close they were becoming since this thing started, though he knew Perry had a wife back in Alabama. Odd that he hadn’t mentioned her much or seem to worry about her. He’d have to talk to Perry about that soon. If the Institute tried to take her hostage to get them to come in, it could become a real problem. He knew they were smart enough to figure that out for themselves. And if they hadn’t done it, then why not?

  They walked together down the street to the bar, on the corner of Ponce and Spring Street. It looked like the kind of bar where you had to fight your way in and fuck your way out. A few guys were hanging around outside and gave them a long look as they came down the street and stopped outside the door. One or two of them stood up and moved a few steps closer.

  A short, well-dressed man came closer to Luke. “What you lookin’ for, buddy?”

  Luke shrugged. “What you got?”

  “Smack, blow, ludes…got a little twist if you’re interested? Anything you want.”

  “Maybe later. We’re going inside now to see a friend of ours.”

  The man raised one eyebrow and smiled. He was good looking in a rough trade kind of way. “I got some primo goods right here, babe. You don’t need to go no further.”

  Logan’s head whipped around. “He said we’re going inside, babe. Back off him.”

  The guy snaked a hand down toward his pocket, but a police car cruised by about that time, and he raised his hands in front of him. “Okay, man, that’s cool. See you when you come out,” he said, giving Logan with a look that was more like a promise. Logan looked back at him as if he were looking forward to it.

  “Hey,” Luke said, stepping up beside him and taking his arm. He smiled up at him. “Sergeant Logan, I’m gonna have to ask you to calm down.”

  Logan’s eyes flickered back down at him. God, when had that happened? Logan had grown two inches at least in the last week or so since they left the cabin. Luke stepped in closer, putting his hand flat against those hard muscles above his belt.

  “I’m calm,” Logan replied, and Luke knew he was lying through his teeth. “Just stay close when we go in, okay?”

  Luke nodded and they went through the door Perry was holding open for them.

  ****

  It’s been said that eavesdroppers never hear well of themselves and Logan believed this to be true. Once when he’d been waiting in an anteroom during his court martial, he’d overheard his Judge Advocate talking to his former captain, trying to get a character reference. The defense attorney had asked about Logan and there had been a long pause before he said, “People like Sergeant Logan are difficult to classify. Whether such people become kings or criminals is mostly a matter of luck.”

  The JAG had decided not to call his captain as a witness in the end, though it probably wouldn’t have mattered much anyway. The deck was already stacked against him.

  Logan had thought a lot about what his captain had said over the next months, and rather than being insulted by it, he thought it was probably true. As they went into the dimly lit bar, a wall of smoke and noise and the smell of alcohol hit him in the face and he had to stop for a moment to let his eyes and ears adjust. Images of another murky, smoky room, noisy with the deep voices of men singing and liquor flowing sweet and hot around him as he sat on a skin-covered throne, assailed his senses for just a moment, almost like a distant memory of another life. A flash of something or someone definitely not human standing beside that throne was so strong, so vibrant he had to stop and shake his head to clear it from his mind.

  What the fuck? If he believed in déjà vu being memories of past lives, he might have just had one of those. But he didn’t believe in any of that shit, so where the hell had that come from? Was it some kind of weird acid flashback from whatever that drug had been in Mexico? He glanced over at the others to see if they had been affected, but they were simply standing there uncomfortably, looking at him like he’d lost his mind. Hell, maybe he had.

  Once he got control of himself again, he took Luke tightly by the arm and made his way farther inside, striding in like a conquering warrior. The captain may have been right after all, because Logan felt for a moment that he had come home. This was his element. This was where he belonged. He could feel something dark and dangerous gathering in the shadows around him, as the stares of the patrons in the bar hit him like daggers. Luke tugged his arm.

  “Come on. Let’s sit down,” he was saying, his voice barely audible over the pounding thump of the music. Logan followed him and the others over to a table near the wall. As his eyes adjusted to the light, Logan could see the bar was crowded with people, and almost all of them were staring at them with varying degrees of mistrust.

  A waitress came up to their table holding a tray with empty glasses. Her dress was too short and too tight, especially considering the fact that she wasn’t slim. She was young and pretty, snapping her gum and wearing far too much makeup. “This is a private club,” she said in a heavy accent after a moment of staring down at them.

  Logan looked up at her solemnly. “Consider this an application for membership.”

  She looked confused, and put the hand not holding the tray on her hip. “Are you tryin’ to be smart?”

  Luke smiled and shook his head. “Believe me, he’s not. We’d just like a beer, please.” He pulled out a twenty and slid it toward her. “You can keep the change.”

  Logan turned his head to glare at him. Out of a twenty? Did he forget they were broke?

  “Put your money away, gentlemen.” A handsome, dark-skinned man wearing an expensive, well-tailored suit had come up to their table. Logan reached for the money and slid it back into his pocket.

  “I think you gentlemen have made a mistake. As Patrice just informed you, this is a private club. By invitation only. We’d be glad to offer you a quick drink.” He nodded to the waitress who moved off toward the bar. “But then I’m afraid you’ll have to leave. Maybe you’re not from Atlanta and simply don’t realize you’re in the wrong place?”

  “No, we’re not,” Logan answered, leaning back in his chair. “From Atlanta, that is. But this looks like a nice bar. I’m actually very happy here.” He looked over at Perry, who was frowning and tense. “Are you happy here, Perry?”

  “Fuckin’ ecstatic.”

  Two big guys got up from a table beside them and headed toward them. The music abruptly died and a tense silence fell over the room. There was only the sound of chairs scraping the floor as people began to stand up. The man in the suit held up a hand to stop the two closest men before they reached the table.

  Logan glanced over at them and then smiled up at the first man. He shrugged expansively. “We don’t want any trouble. We’re looking for a friend of ours who’s supposed to work here. If we find him, then we’ll gladly drink our beer, move on and get out of your hair. If not…” he glanced over at Luke. “I guess we’ll take all the trouble you got.”

  “A friend who works here?” the man asked sharply. “What’s your friend’s name?”

  Before Logan could reply, there was a shout from across the room. “Logan!”

  They all turned to look as Todd Jackson rushed toward them, his arms outstretched and his face wreathed in smiles. Logan got to his feet in time to catch him as he threw himself forward and wrapped his arms around Logan to give him a huge bear hug. The man in the s
uit watched him closely, his gaze moving slowly from Logan back to Jackson. Logan could see right away that the man in the suit watched Jackson in a way similar to how Logan watched Luke.

  Jackson dropped his arms from around Logan and moved to Wilson and then Perry, giving each of them a hug in turn. He nodded at Luke and smiled gently at him, before turning back to the man in the suit. “Dread, these are the friends I’ve told you about, remember? I told you about them. And I told you they might come looking for me.”

  Dread looked Logan over and then checked out each of them in turn. Finally, he gave them a slight smile that never reached his eyes. “Oh yes. Well gentlemen, any friend of Jackson’s is welcome. Sit back down, and I’ll send over those drinks.” He started to turn away, then hooked a possessive finger in Jackson’s waistband and pulled him up close. Jackson’s face turned a mottled shade of red. “Enjoy your friends. I’ll be back to find you in a few minutes.”

  He left, walking back toward the bar and Jackson sat down beside them at the table, still blushing a little. Rather than “soulless” like Draven had said, his eyes were overly bright and a little manic. Since the last time they’d seen him, he had become much better looking too, just like Luke had. But while Luke had already been something special, Jackson had been a little plain, so the difference was marked and extraordinary. He was no longer drab and average looking at all, but really good looking. His brown hair was streaked with golden highlights and his body was lean and muscular. It was his eyes that were most spectacular, though. The nondescript hazel had turned into a glowing golden green, beautiful against his soft, brown skin.

  “Damn Jackson, what the hell happened to you?” Perry asked and he leaned in close, his voice quiet.

  “So much I don’t know where to start.” He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lit one up, blowing a long stream of smoke in the air before smiling at them.

  “You took up smoking again?” Logan asked and he grinned.

  “Why not? If being blown up and shot all to pieces—twice—didn’t kill me, then I figure nicotine doesn’t have much of a chance.”

  The waitress returned to the table with their beer and placed the unopened cans in front of them with a little too much force. She glared at each of them in turn and didn’t offer them any glasses or napkins.

  When she left, Jackson smiled and shrugged. “Sorry about that. They don’t like outsiders here too much.”

  “Yeah, we can see that,” Logan said, popping the top on his can.

  Jackson sighed, then lowered his voice. “I’m in trouble here, guys. And I’m not sure if anybody can help me.”

  Logan instantly sat up straighter, glaring around the room. “What kind of trouble? Is that son-of-a-bitch threatening you?”

  “No…not exactly. Not really a threat, but…he-he influences me.”

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  “I can’t really talk about it here.” Jackson glanced around the room, too, glancing at the other patrons, most of whom were making no effort to hide their blatant curiosity. He stubbed out his cigarette on the already overflowing ashtray. “Too much to tell. Besides it sounds stupid when I say it out loud.”

  Logan looked around too, glaring at a few of the ones closest to their table. “Can you come with us then, or even step outside for a few minutes?”

  “No,” he said, shaking his head. “Not now. Things will be starting soon.”

  “What things?”

  “I can tell you more about it later, when I see you. Just go away for now, okay? Come back tomorrow morning. I think it would be for the best.”

  “Hell no, we’re not leaving you like this,” Logan said, beginning to feel strangely belligerent, like he’d welcome a fight with the whole damn crowd. “Why can’t we stay and see what this is all about? There’s underground fighting here, right? We’ve heard about it.” He gave Jackson a narrow look. “This shit is illegal, Jackson. You know that, right?”

  He nodded. “I know. Anyone involved with an unlicensed boxing match can be charged with a misdemeanor. Everyone from Dread to the corner men and the girls who walk around the ring announcing the rounds can be punished with up to a year in jail,” Jackson said softly. “Hell, just being at the fight is a crime, because the cops consider you to be participating even if you're not fighting or betting. That’s why all these people in here are so nervous. They think you might be cops.”

  Logan folded his arms across his chest. “Well, I’m not leaving until I see this for myself.”

  Jackson bit his lip nervously, then sighed and turned in his chair, perhaps looking around for Dread. He took a deep breath and turned back around, finally nodding and getting to his feet. “Okay, you can stay if Dread says it’s okay. Maybe it’s for the best if you see it for yourself, so you can understand what I tell you later on. I’ll go tell Dread I invited you, but...don’t try to interfere or stop it, okay? No matter what you see.”

  Perry and Logan glanced at each other as Luke and Jake sat silently, looking worried. “Damn, Jackson. What have you gotten involved with here?”

  “It’s hard to explain. We…fight, and people watch us. It’s obsessive, in a way, both for the fighters and the people watching. They keep coming back and they make bets—really big ones that I don’t know how they afford. And…sometimes, people die.”

  “What the fuck, Jackson?”

  “Not often,” he said nervously, still chewing on his bottom lip. “I’ve never killed anyone. But sometimes it gets out of hand…” He shook his head and glanced up, looking guilty or ashamed. “The rules are different here from any other kind of fight. For one thing, a fighter is allowed to keep hitting and punching his opponent when he is already on the ground, and he can keep pounding on him, even if he’s unconscious.”

  Logan raised his eyebrow and Jackson shook his head. “I know how that sounds, but these guys take this really seriously. The fighters get carried away, especially if it’s a grudge match. Like I said, the spectators pay plenty to get inside and then make bets as to who will win. They want to see some violence. A lot of money changes hands. And I mean, thousands of dollars. Some venues move around every week or so and even have their fights at a different location every night, but not Dread. He says he pays enough to the cops to keep them away, and he holds the fights downstairs in the basement of his club two or three times a week.”

  “He does?” Perry asked, leaning forward and looking a little too energized by the idea for Logan’s peace of mind. “I’d like to see that.” Logan cut Perry off with a quick dismissive glare.

  “Fuck that. No. I don’t know how you got mixed up in this shit, but you don’t have to fight anybody, Jackson, that’s crazy. You don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to do it. We’ll take you out of here. Just say the word.”

  Luke pressed his arm, shaking his head, and Logan looked at him impatiently. “What? He doesn’t have to.”

  “Okay, but you’re getting loud. I’ll back your play, whatever it is; you know I will. But dial it back a notch or two.” He nodded toward the back of the room where several large men had gotten to their feet. They were mumbling to each other and a few had begun edging closer to their table. “It’s not going to do any of us any good if you start tearing the place down. Besides…I’ve heard of these places and I’m curious. I think I’d kind of like to see this fighting.”

  Before Logan could reply to that remarkable statement, Jackson got to his feet and started off through the crowd. “Where the hell is he going?” Logan said, starting to get up to go after him, but Luke pulled him back down in the seat, and Jake, who was sitting next to Logan and had been quiet up to now, grabbed his other arm and held on with tenacious strength.

  “Luke’s right. Let him go, Logan. I think we need to see this fight club thing for ourselves.”

  “Men fighting? Why? I’ve seen that kind of shit all my life. Brawls like these ruined my career in the Army and sent me to prison. I have no desire to see it.”

  �
�Calm down,” Luke said, his eyes on Jackson as he made his way back through the crowd. “I have a feeling this is different.” Logan looked at him again as if he didn’t know him. It had to be his eyes. They even seemed to be glowing a little, but that could have just been reflected light. Still, Logan wanted to get him out of there. Excitement was practically crackling off his skin.

  “Dread said you can come as his guests,” Jackson announced as he arrived back at the table.

  “I have money,” Logan said irritably.

  “Not like this, Logan. Those tickets cost a lot. And he’s doing this as a favor to me, so it would be rude to throw it back in his face. Besides, I think he’s taken an interest in you guys. Luke in particular,” he said, his warm golden gaze falling on Luke speculatively.

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  Luke punched his arm. “Nothing, stop being a jealous ass.”

  Jackson shrugged. “I think maybe it’s because I told him he was used to be a Navy SEAL. I told him all of you were Special Forces for that matter. He probably wants to see if you want to fight for him.”

  “Fuck that,” Logan said softly. But Jackson was already holding out a hand to them.

  “Come on then and follow me. It’s almost time to start. When the others see you go downstairs too, they’ll maybe relax a little. Then once you’ve seen what goes on, maybe you’ll better understand my situation.”

  They got up to follow, all except Logan. Luke leaned over his chair and touched his hand. “What’s the matter? You said you wanted to see what Jackson’s involved in. Here’s your chance.”

  “Something’s not right about this. I got a genuinely bad feeling about it.”

  “Oh, come on. After everything we’ve survived so far, surely you’ll survive this.”