by Helen Scott
We split ways, and I head for Dani’s room upstairs. Striker is standing outside the door, looking troubled. I tell him about Dragon, and he clasps my shoulder, then hurries off to meet him with Prez. Hesitantly, I knock on Dani’s door.
I hear her soft voice say, “Come in.”
When I enter, she’s sitting on a chair, a book in her lap.
“What’s that?” I say.
She holds it up, and I smile. “That was one of my favorites as a kid.”
She shrugs. “It was the only book Striker could find.”
I point to the chair beside her. “Mind if I sit?”
She nods her head.
Sitting down, I can’t help but look at her. She’s wearing one of the outfits of the sweet butts, and even though those women have never been my type, I’m suddenly finding the revealing outfit to be exactly what I’ve always wanted. The tears in the pants show off just enough of her long, perfect legs, and the top just barely shows the outlines of her nipples.
“Up here.”
I feel myself blush and meet her gaze. “Sorry.”
“So, did you want something?”
Damn it. I wish I was like Dragon. Ladies have a way of wanting to be in his company. I find most women want me when they’re smashed. They’d climb into my lap at the bar and not seem to notice that I don’t talk a lot. And actually, I do better with women when I’m smashed too. When touching them doesn’t result in seeing flashes of their futures or their pasts. It’s hard to be turned on when you touch a woman and see her being hit by her asshole dad. More often than not, I’d end up in a corner booth while the woman sobbed and told me her life story. Which meant I’d made a lot of friends among the sweet butts, but my romantic list is pathetically short.
“Phoenix?”
Fuck. I’d just been staring. “Are you dangerous?” I blurt out.
Her eyes widen. “What?”
“Are you dangerous?”
“What makes you ask that?” she asks, sounding offended.
I try to give her my best, I’m an asshole look. “Just answer the question.”
“I’m pretty sure the big motorcycle gang keeping me prisoner is more dangerous,” she snaps.
“So there’s nothing in your past we should be concerned about dropping shit at our door later?”
She rises and points a finger at me. “If you know something, just say it.”
I give a cold look back.
She pokes me in the chest once. “Big man lost his tongue?” Twice. “Has to come threaten a woman alone?” A third time. “Has a tiny dick he needs to—”
I grab her hand, and suddenly images crash into me. Broken fragments. I see a man and Dani. They’re dressed to the t’s. Wealth drips from them. But his smile chills her heart. I see her running. Over and over I see her getting caught. I hear the sound of her bones breaking and her screaming. I hear her sobbing. My gut clenches and my chest aches. I want to reach out and help her. I want to take her pain away.
And then Dani jerks away from me. She stumbles back and collapses on the side of her bed. Tears roll down her face.
My blood runs cold. Did I hurt her hand when I grabbed her and slipped into a vision?
“Dani…”
“Your mom was…awful. You and Dragon… Those strange men. They hurt you. You were so scared.”
“What?” I swear every hair on my body stands on end.
“I didn’t even know kids could be abused like that. I mean, I knew, but I didn’t know what it felt like to be so small. He dragged you out from under your bed. He pushed his cigarette into your chest over and over again, burning your skin—”
I rise and stumble back. “How the hell do you know that?”
“I saw it. When I touched you, I saw pieces of your life.”
My feet are already carrying me to the door when she grabs my arm. This time, no vision crashes into me, and I spin to look back at her. “I’m a man now. You understand me? No one hurts me. No one hurts me. Do you understand me?”
I’m shocked when her arms wrap around me, and then we’re holding each other.
When I can catch my breath, I say, “I saw the man who hurt you. I saw the man who broke you.”
She takes a deep, shuddering breath. “So now you know about my dangerous past.”
We just keep holding each other, and it feels strangely like two broken people trying to heal each other.
22
Striker
When I knock on the door to the Prez's office I don't hesitate before going in, even though I know I probably should have. Dragon is already in there sitting in one of the leather arm chairs that Prez has in the office. There are a couple folding chairs kept in the corner for council meetings but they are uncomfortable as all hell, which makes getting the leather chairs a competition for the council members, and keeps everyone on time for the meeting.
This time there are plenty of chairs to go around, though, since it’s just the three of us. I sink into one that’s the color of old whiskey and we wait for the door to click shut behind me. Once we are safely ensconced in the soundproofed room, Dragon gives me a little side eye and I wonder if he is feeling the same way I am.
"So she has powers?" Prez asks, sounding bored, but there’s a curiosity sparkling in his eyes that says otherwise.
Dragon and I both nod.
"Anything good?" Prez raises an eyebrow and steeples his fingers.
"It appears she can mimic or mirror abilities." Dragon's voice is cold, as though he hadn't almost fucked her in the quarry.
"Explain."
"When I attacked, she mirrored my pain back to me without feeling it herself. When Dragon attacked, she mimicked his abilities and their emotions seemed to feed off one another," I say, trying to avoid mentioning them practically tearing each other's clothes off.
"Seems useful," Prez says as he ponders our description.
"I think it could be, provided she learns control," Dragon replies and I know he is thinking about how she'd gotten herself off in front of us. She hadn't given a damn who was around or who was watching. Satisfying that need was the most important thing. That isn't always possible when we are out on a mission. He’s right, she does need to learn control, but so does he, in a way, if their powers are going to be in a feedback loop when they are around each other.
"Maybe we need a test. She could go out on a mission with your team, something small, easy to handle. See how useful it is and if she's worth keeping around as an asset or if we should cut her loose."
"If we cut her loose then the Necron Order will get their test subject back," I say, dread souring my stomach as though this is heading in a direction I don't like.
"Well, if you're that worried about her getting back to them, then put a bullet in her." Prez shrugs.
Sure, it isn't something that we've exactly shied away from before, I mean, hell, Prez had basically ordered us to kill her earlier if we thought she was dangerous. I hadn't and Dragon hadn't, but, make no mistake, she is dangerous. A power like that, able to mimic anything, if it follows our theory, can become extremely dangerous depending on the power she is mimicking and who is pulling her strings.
"She's not ready for a mission. She's barely recovered from the blood, let alone the experiments from the Necron Order," Dragon says with a growl edging his words.
"Are you questioning my leadership?" Prez's voice and eyes have gone flat and cold, a sure sign that he’s super pissed.
"I'm a council member," Dragon replies, a warning in his tone.
"I'm sure Dragon just wants clarification on why Dani needs to be tested so soon. The next mission we have is tomorrow night. Did you mean the one after that?"
"I said what I said." Prez's tone is one he rarely uses with members of the council. This is the one he uses for the Prospects or the cannon fodder. It’s the one that makes him look ice cold and legendary in their eyes when we all know he isn't.
"Prez, she'll get one of us killed," I say, trying to appeal
his decision.
"Who the fuck do you think runs this club?" he demands. When neither of us respond, he pushes from his seat so he’s standing over us. "Who runs Immortal Hunters?"
I fucking hate it when he gets a bee in his bonnet like this. I’m not a kid and I won't be talked down to, but if I contradict him now it’s likely to end with him either taking my patch or my life.
Neither of which I’m ready to give up.
Which is why Dragon and I both begrudgingly say, "You."
"That's what I fucking thought. Now get out before I take you both out for your fucking disrespect. She goes with you on the mission. Her power gets out of control, put her down like the goddamn animal she is. If she dies on the mission? Tough shit." Spittle flies from the Prez's mouth as he speaks, while the vein in the middle of his forehead pulses with rage.
Dragon and I push up and leave the room without another word. As soon as the door closes behind us, Dragon gives me a murderous look. "I'm not the one that made the decision," I say quietly as we walk away.
Once we've made it a little farther and know that no one is around to hear us, Dragon says, "He's treating her worse than he treats the cannon fodder. Why? I know having a woman in an MC is weird, but we're responsible for her being given demon blood. We should be protecting her and treating her as one of our own. For that matter, is anyone even looking into how that happened?"
"I don't think so," I reply, hoping he can hear the honesty in my voice. "The Prez hasn't wanted anyone to have anything to do with her other than our team. Does the rest of the council even know what's going on?"
"Do you think he's going rogue?" Dragon asks in a hushed tone.
We may exist outside the law but that doesn't mean that there aren't rules. Our club has rules, and the fact that we are just one chapter means that there are national rules as well. Rules that our club president may be breaking.
"I don't know, but I think we should chat with the other council members and find out what they know and what the Prez has said to them about the upcoming mission." I start walking toward the bar, knowing that if we are going to find Chainsaw, Shotgun, and Dingo anywhere they'll be there. Dragon is hot on my heels, and I pity the fool who gets in his way when he is riled up.
Opening the doors to the bar lets a wave of sound hit us: music, sounds of some sweet butts being fucked, pool balls clacking together, bottles chiming against one another. As much as I love being a member of the Immortal Hunters and a Son of Helsing, I've never been much of one for the party lifestyle. That isn't true of our brothers though.
As normal, the bar is packed even though it’s early. Chainsaw, Shotgun, and Dingo are over in one of the booths chilling while a sweet butt dances on the table in front of them, not that they are really paying her any attention.
We make a pit stop at the bar to grab a couple beers and another round for them before heading over. The cheer that goes up when they see us brings a genuine smile to my face. We are brothers, maybe not by blood, but we are bound together in ways most people wouldn't understand. Trauma can do that to a person.
"What's shakin', fellas?" Dingo asks as he takes the fresh beer from my hand.
Dragon and I settle into the seats just opposite the table and the sweet butt that had been dancing, Luna, hops down and tries to slide onto Dragon's lap. She smiles sweetly at him, with her tits practically in his face as she moves.
"Not now." He shakes his head.
She pouts and gets back up on the table, apparently content to dance. If she is going to be around, then we need to watch our words even more closely.
"We just got back from testing some cannon fodder," I say before taking a swig of beer.
"The blonde one?" Chainsaw asks.
I nod.
"You get burned?"
"Nah, just a little singed is all," Dragon replies.
"Luna, go grab me a beer." Dingo's words are a command, and without hesitation, Luna hops down and swaggers over to the bar.
I breath a mental sigh of relief as we are able to talk a little more freely.
"She's got some powers, but nothing outrageous." Dragon is playing it down, and I know he’s doing it on purpose because he doesn't want any of the other council members getting their feathers ruffled at the potential of a powerful female.
"Prez wants us to take her for a test run," I say quietly.
"Always good to try before you buy. That's a honey pot I'd stick my paw in without question," Dingo says with a wink.
Dude says the weirdest stuff.
"Not that kind of test run, asshole. We're taking her on mission tomorrow night," Dragon says.
None of them look surprised, but their faces are also carefully blank. It isn't that we don't trust these men, or the Prez. The opposite is normally true. We trust them with our lives. Something’s off with the stuff going on around Dani though.
"Seems a little rushed to me," Shotgun says, his low, baritone voice making his words stand out even more.
"Eh, you know how Prez gets with cannon fodder. Doesn't want them around for long if they can't hack it," Chainsaw replies.
I look over at Dragon and shake my head. If we push harder than this, they will start wondering what we are getting at. Right now they aren't outright confirming or denying our suspicions, which makes me feel like an asshat for doubting the Prez. The man always has his reasons, even if they aren't always obvious to the rest of us. Now I just have to get the others on board with this plan. They’re not going to be happy with it no matter what I say, but we don't have a choice.
Tomorrow night, Dani will either succeed or die trying.
23
Dani
I've been in my room alone for the better part of a day when Phoenix comes storming in, his face a thunder cloud. If I hadn't seen what I had through our weird shared vision then I might have been scared, but for some reason, sharing that with him has taken away any fear I may have felt.
He tosses some clothes onto the bed while holding onto a pair of black Doc-Martin-looking boots and says, "Put these on. We're going out."
I glance out of the window confirming what I already know, but needing to say it aloud. "It's night though."
"We're going out." His face is impassive, a stone wall that I can see I’m not going to get through.
"Are you going to stand and watch?" I question when he just stands there.
With a huff he turns around.
I paw at the clothes until I figure out what’s what. There is a pair of black leather pants and a black t-shirt along with a black sports bra, socks, and panties. Just to be on the safe side, I turn my back to Phoenix and strip as quickly and quietly as I can before pulling on the new clothes. When I sit on the bed and pull the socks on, I realize this is the first time I've been fully clothed in longer than I can remember, because there’s no way I could count those tiny shorts and tube top I'd been wearing as actual clothing when they are more like underwear. The clothes they have brought me actually fit as well, which is a good feeling, although it’s a little bizarre that they know my size.
That feeling of being human is finally coming back to me, only for me to realize that I am officially about as far away from human as I can get now with the fucking demon blood running through my veins. The guys have never said whether it will do more than just give me powers. Will it change my personality over time? Will I crave darker delights? I don't relish the thought, but I’m not as scared of it as I should be. Maybe this is just the beginning?
"I'm ready," I croak.
Phoenix turns around, coming over and kneeling in front of me before he lifts one of my feet and slides the first boot on. The leather cups my ankle and as he pulls the laces tight it feels like he wants me to be ready to run and kick some ass. No loose shoes getting in the way of this girl. He does the same with the other boot, then holds out his hand to me.
I’m surprised that he'd risk such a connection considering what had happened last time. When I reach out but hesitate my gaze dar
ts up to his, only to find his entire face still stoney and cold.
When he catches me looking, he says, "I've got my powers locked down. You won't get any visions from me and I shouldn't give any to you. It's something you'll need to learn how to do." His voice softens a little toward the end but his expression never changes.
I slip my hand in his and stand up. His eyes roam over me and I swear I see a spark of desire in their depths. The leather pants are actually more like leggings, clinging to my legs, hips, and ass. I've tucked the t-shirt in because it’s a little too large in the body but that only serves to accentuate how much weight I've lost, especially over the last few months.
Once I’m standing, and feeling a bit more confident in my new outfit, I pull my hair up into a ponytail. Phoenix's gaze tracks my movements like a predator. As my arms come down from the task, I flick the last of my hair over my shoulder and ask, "What's going on?"
"We're going out."
"So you said, but is that all you can say?" I raise an eyebrow at him.
"It's all I can say without getting pissed," he growls at me, pausing before adding, "Come on. Everyone's waiting."
I don't get a chance to respond before he turns and walks out of the door. With no choice but to follow, I do. In less than a minute, we are downstairs and standing outside with Dragon, Crash, and Striker, their bikes lined up and ready to go.
"What's going on?" I ask, hoping that one of the other three will answer.
"We're going for a ride," Crash says before holding out a helmet for me and nodding to his bike. "You get the privilege of riding with me tonight."
Without another word, the guys all mount their bikes, the chrome gleaming in the moonlight as they push off the kickstands and start them up. Striker and Dragon have already pulled away while I am still staring down Crash. He’s giving me pleading eyes and I know he doesn’t want to fight, but just for once, I’d like to not be a passenger in my own life. Even though I stare at him for a while he doesn’t give in, just keeps holding the helmet out. Finally, I take the helmet from him and pull it on over my head, mentally grumbling about how uncomfortable it is to have my hair up in a ponytail with one of these things on.