by Raven Dark
“General?” Hawk looked at Sheriff, waiting. Waiting, along with the others for him to give the order.
“The final choice rests with me, but I will not make this decision without input from the Four. Doc’s cleared us for travel. We mount up in half an hour; I’ll expect to hear from you then.”
When he stood up with everyone else, he put up a hand.
“Keep in one thing in mind when you cast your votes. If things go to shit, you are my Brothers. Emmy is not. The club always comes first. Meeting adjourned.”
While I helped the others prepare to leave, my thoughts roiled with a torrent of emotion. I knew the last thing Sheriff wanted was to have anyone challenge him, but if I didn’t say something before we left, I’d go insane, imagining Emmy out there enduring who knew what.
You are my Brothers. Emmy is not. His words rang in my head like death knells.
I couldn’t take it anymore. I marched toward the other side of the camp to where Sheriff was doing something with his cut.
“Setor—Onyx, where are you going?” Diamond hurried after me. She grabbed my shoulders.
“I’m going to have a word with the General.”
“Oh, no you are not.” She tried to tug me back, her voice a hiss. “Don’t. You want your ass beat?”
I pulled my hand out of hers and walked calmly on.
Diamond swore, but I ignored her.
When I got close to Sheriff standing by his bike, I saw he was working a needle and thread through the patch with his rank, sewing it back onto the breast of his cut. It looked like it had been torn loose, probably in the fight with the Dregs.
“Master.”
He looked at me, biting off the thread with his teeth. “What do you need, Onyx?” His voice was like the low rumble of thunder. The muscles in his bare shoulders rippled with tension.
How did I say what needed to be said? Trepidation crawled up my spine, but I pushed it down.
“You know what they’re going to do to Emmy, don’t you, Master?” I forced my voice to remain calm, neutral, without accusation. “Or what they will do to her when they get wherever they’re going?”
“I’m not discussing this with you now. Go and wait with Diamond until we leave.”
“Sheriff. Master. I have to ask. Do you really think of Emmy that way, as less worthy of saving than your club Brothers? Less worthy of saving than Steel, or Pretty Boy, or Hawk, any of the other men?”
He set his cut on the seat of his bike and crossed his arms over his chest. His muscles flexed, huge and powerful. A bitter sort of smile pulled at his mouth, though it looked more like a grimace before his face turned to a mask of iron.
“Emmy is a slave, sweetheart.”
The crack across my heart deepened, slicing like a blade. I’d known that’s how he felt, but hearing him say it outright…
I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Brothers before pussy, right?”
“That’s right.” His voice was toneless, without emotion.
My nails dug into my palms. “Is…is that how you think of me?”
“What?” he demanded over the sound of a revving motorbike.
“You…” I blew out a slow breath. “You asked me to be yours. More than a slave. But if that Dreg had taken me instead of Emmy, would you say the same as you did about her?”
“We aren’t doing this now.”
The engine behind me grew louder, coming closer. It cut off. “Sheriff, do you—?” Steel started.
“Yes, we are, General. If push came to shove, would you let me go?”
“Holy shit.”
I turned to see Steel stepping toward me. Behind him, Hawk grabbed his shoulder like he was stopping him from stepping into a bull ring. Both men’s eyes were wide.
“I’m not letting her go,” Sheriff snapped when I looked at him again. “We’re going to rescue her.”
I straightened my shoulders. I needed to know that the same man who had asked me for something more wouldn’t give up on me. That he wouldn’t cast me aside for the sake of his men.
For the second time since being with the Legion, I said something I was pretty sure no slave had ever said to her Masters, and never to him.
“Answer me, Sheriff,” I said slowly. “Would you. Let me. Go.”
“Kitten,” Hawk drawled.
I only half heard him. Sheriff closed the distance between us in one stride, turned me and shoved me back against his bike. His hand on my chest kept me in place. His blazing eyes, like blue flames in sunlight, pinned me in place and sent my heart battering against my ribs. When I didn’t move, he lifted his hand, settling his big palm over my throat. His strong fingers applied no pressure, yet they encircled my neck, threatening. His voice was low and dark.
“I’m only going to say this once, slave. You don’t challenge me like that, ever, and especially not in front of my men. All that education you’ve had, you know how the world works. Like it or not, Emmy, Diamond…you…are my property. You may have my men wrapped around your little finger, but not me. I will do what I can to ensure Emmy’s safe return. But my Brothers, my men, my club, they come first.”
“Master…” I tried to pull at his hand, but his fingers tightened just enough to make me drop my arm.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw Steel tense, and Hawk gripped his shoulder again, shaking his head no.
“Given the choice between a woman and my boys, my boys take priority. That’s how it’s always going to be. If you challenge my decision again, I’ll have you tied to the nearest tree and your ass whipped bloody. Is that clear?”
The words drove home how little he’d changed, how mistaken I’d ever been in thinking he was more than a cold-hearted pirate general who ruled his women and his club with an iron fist. He’d said he’d wanted me as more than his slave, but I knew right then, if I agreed to such a thing, I’d only be sealing myself in bonds tighter and more dangerous than I already wore. My heart shattered, every piece cutting up my insides like glass.
My eyes slid closed; I couldn’t bear to look at him anymore.
“Yes, Master,” I gritted out tonelessly.
He released my throat slowly, then slid his hand to the back of my neck, pressing his lips with an almost mocking, possessive gentleness on my forehead. “Go. Before I change my mind and belt you right here.”
I stumbled away from him on weakened legs, anger boiling my blood. Diamond rushed over and grabbed my shoulders, taking me back to where we’d been. She said something to me, but I didn’t hear it through the pounding in my ears.
“What?”
“I asked you if you were fucking brain dead. I don’t know whether to smack you up side the head or hug you.” Her voice was a quiet rasp.
“Someone had to do it. I had to.”
“Why? Why does it have to be you, Setora?”
I didn’t answer her. I wasn’t ready to tell anyone what Sheriff had demanded of me before we’d left the Grotto. Maybe I would never be ready.
Fifteen minutes later, as everyone mounted up, Sheriff slipped that steel band around his upper arm, the one I’d seen turn into the scaled, armored glove he’d worn in battle. He didn’t activate it, though.
“Just so we’re all on the same page,” he said, “we’ve voted to head to the auction. Is everyone in agreement?”
A chorus of affirmation rose up.
He looked at me as I climbed on the back of Pretty Boy’s bike. “Is that okay with you, Setora?” His smile was cruel.
T-Man snorted.
I suppressed a curse and settled my cheek against Pretty Boy’s back. I wouldn’t regret what I’d done. Someone had to stand up for Emmy. But, Maker, did I want to smack that smile off his gorgeous face.
When I didn’t say anything, Sheriff swung onto his bike and started it up.
We rode out of the desert, but I couldn’t have told anyone what happened over the next few hours. My thoughts roiled like a storm, a haze of numbing fear for Emmy, worry for my masters, and seething, b
urning rage at Sheriff.
The last time I’d felt anything that caustic, Damien had tried to auction me off.
As a slave.
Over the last month or so I’d been with the Dark Legion, wherever they were had started to feel like home. But right then, I wished I was somewhere—anywhere—else.
Chapter 13
The Face of Darkness
The first half of the journey went by in a blur.
As time passed, the landscape changed, sometimes drastically, but I noticed little else, too preoccupied with my own thoughts.
What might have been two hours or five hours later, the hot, dry desert flats became more hilly, patches of grassy land appearing more frequently, until only lush green remained. By late afternoon, the sun scorched, heating metal and leather until it was hot to the touch, but it didn’t burn as hot as it would have in the desert.
Now and again, we passed through a city or a zone, riding through so fast no one would have taken much notice of us. We kept a low profile, stopping only twice for water, fuel, and other supplies at fueling stations outside of cities or protected zones. I thought we passed through at least two towns like Rafe, neither showing signs of having been visited by raiding Dregs. The rest of the time, we kept to the back roads.
At our first stop, we pulled up at a fueling station, and the men checked the place over to make sure it hadn’t fallen victim to the same fate as Oasis.
It hadn’t.
The owner, a muscled man with a shaved head, sold us four more jugs of water and turned on his five fuel lines. He had a large collection of knives in a display case, and Hawk bought one, talking weapons with him while we took twenty minutes to fuel up. The men also bought gas masks. When we caught up with the Dregs, if they had more of those flashbangs, no one wanted to put us further behind by ending up incapacitated for hours.
The men relieved themselves out back, and we had a quick bite, sandwiches Crash had put together before leaving the previous campsite. I couldn’t have told anyone what my sandwich had on it. The food tasted like ashes.
“Pretty Boy, you’ve had her long enough.” Sheriff waved me over to his bike when everyone was ready to leave. “Come here, sweetheart.”
I immediately tensed, suddenly alert. The smirk on his face was mocking, his gaze flickering over a few other bikers at the station who took over the fuel lines after we were done.
He was daring me to challenge him in front of them as well as his men.
Deliberately silent, I walked over and climbed on behind him. I’d only ridden with Sheriff twice, both times before we’d left the Grotto. I couldn’t think of either of those times without remembering what had happened between us the morning we’d ridden out.
The way he’d first given me the choice to become more than his slave, and then robbed me of that choice when he’d taken me, pounding me savagely in the grass. After hearing the way he’d spoken of Emmy, the way he’d spoke to me, and his whiplash moods, I hated the way my sex ached at the thought of being alone with him.
I settled my hands on Sheriff’s shoulders, unable to bring myself to put my arms around him, to press close to him the way I would have done with the others.
“If you don’t hold on better than that, you’ll fall off.” Head turned sideways, that knee-weakening, wicked smirk twisted his mouth.
I slid my arms around him, hands clasped over his hard stomach, resting my head the only way that was comfortable, with my cheek to his back. Beside him, Pretty Boy watched us with amusement. When I looked longingly at him, he just shrugged. I tightened my grip around Sheriff’s waist, but it held no comfort for me, a notion which made me feel hollow inside.
“Better,” Sheriff murmured, rubbing my hands with his hot palm.
“How long will I be riding with you, Master?” I asked sullenly.
“For as long as I want you to, sweetheart. Any more questions, and you’ll sit there all the way to Delta.”
A week of riding with him. I fell silent.
Hawk grinned at the exchange between us. Behind Doc, Diamond giggled into her hand.
Traitors.
As we rode, the scenery changed numerous times. Eventually the grassy hills turned to a large with trees that spread as far as the eyes could see.
“Wow.” We’d stopped on a path alongside the forest; I stared up at the mammoth trees that rose high into a sky already splashed with the early evening sunset. They must have been hundreds of feet high, with dark brown bark tinted with a rusty hue, and their branches decorated with broad, reddish-colored leaves. I couldn’t wrap my head around the massive sizes of their trunks. Each one stretched twice as wide as a man was tall, the openings on some as large as a door to a stately home. Birds twittered among the thick branches.
“Dockerwood tress,” Sheriff grunted. “They grow bigger, sometimes. There’s another forest like this to the west of here. We’ll camp there. This forest is too close to a town.”
We rode down a winding path that cut through the trees, past a small town that spread between one stretch of forest and the next. I had a feeling it had been all one forest once, that the section in the middle had been cleared of trees and the town built in its place. The houses at the edges of the town looked like they’d been built right into the tree trunks. A few homes had trunks growing right up through the middle of them, giving them a picturesque look, like something out of an Old World fairytale.
By the time we stopped again, the sun had set completely, turning the forest to a deep black. There was a moon tonight, I’d seen the sliver of it peeking through the canopy, but little of its light cut through the blanket of leaves.
“We’ll be here only long enough to eat and sleep,” Sheriff said when everyone dismounted. “Only unpack what we need. Forget the tents, we’ll take shelter in the tree trunks. We ride in six hours. One guard at a time, three-hour shifts.”
He dismounted and lifted me from his bike before I could stop him. My hands ended up on his chest, and I tried to step away, but he slid my arms around his neck.
“What’s your hurry, Little Spy?” He crushed me to him, his hands sliding down to my ass and molding me to him. Maker, he was hard—his cock jabbed through his leathers into my belly button.
Not that I could have thought of anything appropriate to say right then, but even if I would have, he didn’t give me the chance. His fingers took my chin, almost pinching, and his mouth devoured mine.
The kiss burned with pure possession, heating my blood, but dread also slithered through me, hot and dark with the awareness of his need. The memory of his hand on my throat before we’d left the previous camp played havoc with my insides, and yet some part of me craved the danger in him. Would he expect me to spend the night with him?
Resistance had me trying to turn my face away, to close my mouth to him, but he gripped my nape, almost painfully hard, growling his disapproval. His mouth pried mine open, his tongue spearing in.
Around us, the men chuckled or whooped at Sheriff in encouragement. I could feel them watching us. He smiled against my lips, kissing me harder.
When he finally lifted his head, I stared up at him, trying to claw my way out of the daze his kiss had created in me. Blood pounded in my ears.
“You want to say something to me, slave?” he rumbled. The deliberate emphasis on the word slave cut me deep.
Oh, how I wanted to speak up, but I didn’t dare. If I did, I wouldn’t have been able to stop myself from begging him to spare me the night in his bed, and if I brought it up, he’d probably drag me there out of spite.
I looked away, but my sex felt swollen with desire.
Sheriff jerked my face back to his and traced my lips regretfully with his thumb. Then he dropped his hand and released me.
“Relax, I’m not going to fuck you tonight.”
I blinked at him. Why would he put off the chance to remind me of my place after what I’d done?
“I need sleep. If I have you with me, I’ll be too busy filling your
pussy to get a wink. Get gone.” He spun me away from him and slapped me on the backside.
Wretched tendrils of disappointment took root, my body coiling with unspent need, even while relief made me breathless.
Maker, these Dark Legion men would be the end of me.
As I joined the others to help set up camp, the more I thought on the day’s events, something close to hatred welled up in me for Sheriff. All my life, Damien had instilled in me that it was useless for a slave to hold onto anger toward her master. It polluted a relationship that, by its own nature, could never end except in death. Hatred put up walls that did no one any good, yet I couldn’t mute its icy burn.
As long as Emmy was out there, a wall between us might be all we had now. That thought made me sad.
Within half an hour, we’d set up camp. Diamond helped Crash light a fire and cook a stew with strips of quail meat he’d brought from the last stop we’d made. Doc changed the dressing on Crash’s leg, and I put more drops into my eyes, then helped set up the men’s beds in the tree hollows they’d chosen.
Using the trees for shelter allowed everyone to have his own space, except for Diamond and me. Whatever Doc had said before about women being too busy to sleep, I had a feeling Diamond and I weren’t allowed our own tree more out of protection than anything else. The men needed sleep, and I knew no one was leaving Diamond or me unguarded. Within another half-hour, the smell of meat seasoned with a delicious blend of spices filled the camp.
Once everyone was seated on logs around the fire, and we’d finished eating, Hawk went to one of the bike compartments. He returned with Pup’s and Latch’s cuts. My heart sank, seeing those cuts in his fist as much as the mask of regret on his face.
“Before we turn in, there’s something we need to take care of.” Sheriff stood from his log and took one of the cuts from Hawk, Latch’s by the larger size of it. “Crash, get over here, boy.”
Crash straightened, his gaze dropped to the cut in Sheriff’s hand, and his throat worked. He popped pain meds into his mouth and swallowed his water hard. Earlier, T-Man had fashioned him a walking cane, but Hawk still helped Crash stand and walk over to Sheriff. Everyone else stood and gathered close around the fire.