The Seventh Sons (Sycamore Moon Series Book 1)

by Domino Finn

  It had been a mistake to ever get involved with Doka's side business. Nicola was a skinny woman who didn't look capable of much, so when Steve asked for her help, she'd thought it was a chance to step up. A delinquent had gotten away from Doka in the woods. She had helped track him down, and Doka had pushed him over the falls to make it look like the man killed himself. She didn't know why. She didn't ask questions. Her job was to help out brothers in danger, and she had saved Steve's ass. Nicola felt like a hero that day.

  Revenge killings were part of the world. You got stepped on or you got strong. There was nothing wrong with that. Over the last year, however, Nicola had begun to realize how dirty the man's dealings were. It had become clear that Doka was the one responsible for the abductions. He was the reason Diego was here asking questions, and trying to silence the man was the mistake that had finally caught up with him. Now Doka had fled to the safety of the Yavapai reservation. With Steve dead, that left Nicola to fend for herself, with Diego at her literal doorstep.

  Gaston walked in and noticed Nicola's guard. "You've gotta be shitting me. How long has he been out there?" The tall man stormed to the window and trouble brewed on his face.

  Melody did an encore performance of her eye roll and left the room. Gaston was one of the few people with the balls to call her out, so she tended to avoid him.

  "I told him I would kick his ass the next time I saw him," said the man in a gruff voice.

  "You fucking boys," said Nicola. "Too much testosterone. You think you can solve everything with muscle."

  "I know you want vengeance for Steve."

  She sighed. She knew Gaston had been his friend—she had been too—but was more killing the answer? Violence is what had gotten them into this mess.

  "Doka started it. Where were you anyway?"

  Gaston shrugged. "Diego came to me first and asked about his stupid sister. He was all up in my face, so I told him to go to hell." The big man shook his head. "He's lucky we shared some pitchers in Detroit, otherwise I would have kicked his ass just for being so demanding."

  "Couldn't you just talk to him?"

  "I did. I couldn't help him and he wasn't taking no for an answer. Anyway, I had some other girl all over me and had to go. Diego didn't need to start killing people."

  "The man was just defending himself," she confessed. "He was just looking for Angie." It was kind of sweet, really, that the girl had a protector. Nicola could have used an older brother herself.

  Gaston shook his head. Nicola knew her explanation wouldn't keep him from blaming Diego for Steve's death, but hopefully it would stop him from doing something stupid.

  "Hell," he said, a lightness entering his voice, "I honestly wish I knew where she was." Nicola could tell that Gaston was wrestling with some heavy thoughts. He was a brash man, but he had a history with both siblings. "How did he even find the clubhouse?"

  Nicola frowned. "I bet he followed that bitch Melody here. She's like a teenager; she thinks she's invincible and flirts with danger. And whenever she gets too deep, she calls on Mommy to protect her."

  "We ain't talking ill of family, are we?" Mom walked through the large entry of the den with a snide look on her face. Speak of the devil. "What's got you all worked up, sugar?"

  The woman wore her Southern charm like a disguise, but she was more shrewd than she let on. Nicola motioned outside with a nod.

  The midday sun fell on the long white grass of the cabin's front yard. It was a small clearing in the middle of a dense wilderness of browning leaves and evergreen pine needles. The thick foliage in the distance cast heavy shadows, but when squinting at just the right patch of branches, it was clear that Diego de la Torre was lurking within the darkness.

  Mom just grunted to confirm that she saw the man. From any other president, Nicola would have expected a course of action, a plan, but not Mom. She understood a bigger picture—she was a part of it somehow—and so she chose to do nothing.

  "Why is he here, Mom?" Nicola asked coarsely. The older woman's face seemed to be made of stone. Nicola pressed her when she got no answer. "Diego should be talking to Carlos."

  Mom gave her a sideways look and pursed her pink lips. She was pretending not to know how Doka was involved. But Nicola knew. Carlos was Mom's errand boy. He cleaned up the affairs that she wanted to keep the club ignorant of.

  Nicola didn't hate Debbie—she was very grateful that the woman had taken her in when she needed support to deal with her affliction—but times were fast changing. Mom had made too many compromises to stay afloat and it visibly taxed her. It made her less trustworthy. And it pissed Nicola off.

  "I don't want anyone talking to the Yavapai mercenaries," Mom said sternly.

  Nicola grumbled and did something she had never done before. She yelled at Mom. "Why the fuck not? What did Doka do with Angie?"

  Debbie was taken aback for a moment. Even Gaston raised his eyebrows in surprise.

  Nicola knew it wasn't a good idea to ask in front of Gaston—the less he knew the better—but she was the only one on the run. "Can't you see that the easiest way to get rid of him is to tell him where his sister is?"

  "Nicola, dear..." said Mom, brushing her bangs aside and squinting her eyes in a look of warning. Debbie put her hands on her hips and stood tall, and suddenly Nicola regretted losing her temper.

  ii.

  One moment Nicola was afraid that she would face the full, twisted wrath of the woman she owed so much to, but then, just as quickly as the fire had been lit, it softened to a warm glow.

  "Honey," said Mom, her voice almost cracking, "our family must persevere. We must be here for each other."

  Nicola saw a hint of the maternal figure she had loved, who had saved her, but there was no denying the pressure Mom was now under. Could she ever be the same woman again?

  Her thoughts were interrupted as their attention turned to the window. A white SUV turned the corner in the road, kicking up red dirt as it approached the clubhouse.

  "What now?" muttered Nicola. As Debbie and Gaston followed her gaze, a sinking feeling materialized in her stomach. She recognized the government vehicle that parked at an angle from the cabin door. Even though the tinted windows were an opaque black, they all knew who the driver was.

  How could they have found her?

  Gaston spoke with more distaste than he reserved for Diego. "The CDC woman." There wasn't much that the man liked, but Nicola knew that the government ranked near the bottom.

  They watched as the front door of the SUV opened and two perfectly white high heels stepped into the dirt. Nithya was wearing a dark business suit, but her open jacket revealed holster straps around each shoulder.

  Nicola desperately turned to Debbie and wished she could take back her outburst. She was in a lot of danger now, and she felt her throat choking up. "Mom..."

  Debbie, usually stoic in the face of challenge, wore a befuddled expression. She brushed her graying hair behind her shoulders and gave Nicola a telling look. Nithya was here for her—there was no doubt about it.

  "Y'all had better stay inside." Mom solemnly exited the room.

  Nicola wasn't sure if hiding would be enough. As the different scenarios played out in her head, she couldn't keep from thinking suspicious thoughts. "Do you ever get the feeling that there's more going on between Mom and the CDC than she lets on?"

  Gaston scoffed. "No way." His displeasure at the thought was clear.

  Gaston was an idealist, fiercely loyal to the MC, but his devotion was so complete that it blinded him to anyone else's ulterior motives. The poor guy might have been the most straightforward asshole that ever lived. It made him a valuable companion when trouble went down, but he didn't have a developed understanding of how the real world worked.

  Nithya stepped away from the vehicle as the back doors opened. Two police officers wearing bullet-proof vests emerged. They were two of the cops that had arrested her the other night. The Mexican boy wore a blue uniform and the other, the detective, wore
a red tie under his vest and had a white hat on.

  This wasn't good. Doka shouldn't have cut that cop.

  "Maxim's not laying off you guys, is he?" Gaston smiled. He wanted this. He liked confrontation. Even better when it was unavoidable because then he couldn't be blamed.

  The three government employees walked up to the cabin and turned their heads sharply as the front door opened. The two cops moved their hands to their holstered weapons. Nicola could feel the adrenaline starting to surge through her veins. No, she did not want to succumb to the strength just yet.

  Mom stepped onto the wooden porch and into Nicola's view from the window, blocking the path to the door. She had her cowboy hat on now, and she tipped it a bit to shade her eyes from the sun.

  "Ms. Rao," she said coolly, hands defiantly on her hips. "I'd appreciate some notice when you bring the police to my door."

  Nithya climbed the steps and stopped a few feet from the MC president. Her tall frame, embellished by the heels, towered over the older woman. But she was the more vulnerable person here; she was no wolf.

  "We have a warrant to search your premises." The CDC agent spoke with a detached authority that worried Nicola. Debbie would deny it, but the two had an amiable relationship—not so much as friends but business partners. This matter, however, appeared to divide them.

  "She had nothing to do with it, Nithya. Y'all can't come in."

  Maxim skirted the yard and examined the surrounding grass, peeking at the side of the cabin. The Mexican stepped back a bit and eyed the second floor windows. They were concerned about being ambushed.

  Nicola turned her attention to Diego behind the tree line. He watched intently from cover without announcing his presence.

  Nithya's words drew her attention again. "She needs to answer for attacking a police officer, Ms. Holton."

  What? They're gonna try to put that on her? Nicola was the one that had held Doka back that night.

  The conversation escalated a bit. After some harsh words from Debbie, Nithya stepped even closer to her and shoved a finger in her face. "You know what will happen if you put a finger on me."

  Nithya wasn't backing down. That was a very bad thing because her words were true. She was essentially untouchable.

  Even Gaston knew his limits. "If anyone from the MC so much as scratches her," he said, "the CDC will burn this place down."

  Nicola felt herself start to panic. She was in dire trouble. Maxim glanced at the window they were peeking through, and Nicola hurriedly ducked away. She pressed her back against the wall below the sill and looked up to Gaston.

  "What can we do?" she rasped.

  "The only thing that woman wants from all of us is blood."

  Nicola couldn't accept that. She didn't hurt that cop. She didn't go against the CDC. She didn't need to die.

  "Mom's gonna give me up," she said, rattled. "I'm telling you, we can't trust her!"

  The big man shook his head with firm resolve. "Just stay hidden and let Mom work them."

  There it was. More idealism from the big man. More belief that things would work out. Nicola was wiser, however. She was intimately familiar with the harsh machinations of the world. She knew what drove those who were in positions of power. Debbie wasn't the upstanding club leader that Gaston hoped she was. Maybe once she had been, but now Nicola was convinced that Mom was more concerned with her personal fortune than the sanctity of the MC.

  Nicola poked her head up so her eyes were just visible over the window sill. Nithya and the police were still outside posturing. So far, Mom was holding her ground. Nicola glanced to see what Diego was doing in the trees, but she couldn't see him anymore. He was gone.

  iii.

  Screw this. Nicola needed a plan.

  If the CDC woman wanted her, it was only to kill her. They had no other business to conduct. Nicola wondered about the local cops, but she was pretty sure they wouldn't help her either. Not after Doka had hurt one of them. Not if they were here backing up the CDC.

  Angie's brother was the only one. He was dangerous, for sure, but he'd killed Steve in self-defense. He didn't come seeking death—he wanted information. If Nicola could find out where Diego's sister was, he would help her get out of here. It was that simple.

  Angie was still alive. She had to be. Her body hadn't turned up over the falls yet. Of course, she couldn't be sure Doka had taken her, but what other explanation would suffice?

  The confrontation outside continued as Nicola crawled away from the window. She wasn't going to wait to be executed. Out of view, she stood up and marched towards the back of the clubhouse. Where she was going was prohibited, but she had been the good girl long enough. The world hadn't been fair to Nicola for most of her life, and she would be damned if she was going to trust in the world to save her this time.

  Nicola had stopped being a victim a long time ago. Taking action, she had learned, was the surest way to achieve an outcome. When she had been an immigrant child sold for sex, she'd tried to please her masters. She had curried favor where she could but it did her little good. She had still been a slave. And the police? Some of the men she had been forced to sleep with were cops. Nicola didn't have any delusions about her value to them.

  No, no one had been there for her until she'd been bitten. It was a slow realization at first, but she had eventually learned that she was more powerful than her persecutors. It had finally been time for the world to please her. With the strength in her blood and her innocence lost, the inclination that had come to her was natural. She had torn her masters apart.

  Nicola stopped at the door she wasn't supposed to open and made sure she was alone. She was thankful to the MC for taking her in and teaching her how to keep a low profile over the years, but Doka was the polar opposite of what had kept them alive for so long. Whatever they had been up to was going to bring them all down, starting right now with her.

  Nicola opened the door to Mom's office and slid in gently. This felt like a betrayal but she knew: where Doka went, Mom ordered. If Angie had been taken by them, then there might be proof somewhere within.

  Where would they have kept the kidnapped victims? Mom and some other members had cabins scattered throughout Sycamore, but aside from the falls, she'd never seen any strange activity in the woods. Doka visited the Yavapai reservation at times but it seemed a risky option. He was always complaining about how meddling the tribal police were. It didn't seem like a good place to start.

  There was a safe on the floor, but Nicola didn't know the combination. There was also a metal filing cabinet with locked drawers. Mom kept her desk clean, so Nicola dug through the drawers, looking for anything suspicious. Pens, envelopes, small pads of paper—nothing suspicious presented itself.

  There was a pistol in a bottom cubby. Nicola's fingers twitched as she pondered taking it. Did she really need the protection? The gun would just put her in more danger. If she used it against the CDC or police, she would be a dead woman. No. There had to be another way.

  Her eyes scanned the room frantically. She was running out of time. Some community awards lined the walls. There were some knickknacks in a glass cabinet, little statues and such. She saw a bowl with glass beads in it, but something else inside caught her eye. She opened the glass door and ran her fingers through the beads and pulled out a small key. Then her gaze returned to the filing cabinet.

  The heavy locks turned with the key. The top drawer was full of fliers and memorabilia, but the middle one looked more promising. The sections seemed to be personnel files of individuals associated with Mom. MC members were in here, too.

  Nicola quickly found her name and opened the light folder. There was a death certificate from one of the men she had killed while fleeing the prostitution ring. Was this blackmail evidence against her? There was also a photocopy of her passport and copies of some of her old arrest reports, but those were public records that didn't seem important. There weren't too many papers, so she shoved them into her jeans pocket.

  She
flipped through the rest of the folders, looking for Nithya's name, and she was elated to find it. Inside was a scan of a recent ID for Nithya Rao. A Flagstaff address was listed. That was a start. Nicola folded the paper and added it to her collection but was frustrated at the lack of further information in the folder. No dirt on the CDC? That didn't seem like Mom at all.

  Unfortunately, she couldn't find anything in here relating to Doka.

  Nicola quietly shut the drawer and opened the last one at the bottom. These were financial records: titles for motorcycles, the deed for the clubhouse under SSMC, LLC, and lots of tax forms. She was focused on looking for other files that were suspect, but nothing had the names Deborah Holton or Carlos Doka on them. Nicola shook her head. There had to be something else.

  Then Nicola stumbled onto something interesting. It was a liquor license application for Sycamore Lodge. That was strange because the club didn't own the roadhouse. The listed name was a Regina Beale. Where had she heard that name before?

  Nicola thought back to the incident that had first gotten her involved with Doka. She had tracked down the delinquent close to the border of Sanctuary. The roadhouse was the nearest building. At the time, she didn't think much of it.

  The wolf racked her brain trying to think of a plausible theory. There was nothing special at Sycamore Lodge—she'd spent a lot of time there. There was an old farming bin out back but it only held rancid grain. It didn't make sense. Still, maybe there was something there.

  In the distance, Nicola heard the muffled slam of the heavy front door of the cabin. Whoever was outside had probably come back in. Nicola had to take off. She closed the drawer and made a quick attempt to leave things as she had found them.