My Dark Knight (gay biker romance) (Kings of Hell MC Book 2)

by K. A. Merikan

  “You wanna train with me in the meanwhile, Knight?” Jake asked and stretched casually, as if he weren’t purposefully showing off his body in a shameless attempt to charm Knight.

  Fuck Jake.

  Elliot groaned and walked up to Gray, ready for his daily failure.

  Gray put his hands behind his back and stood right on the outskirts of Elliot’s personal space, assessing him with his cool gaze. Substantially shorter than Elliot, he was strong and agile, capable of defeating any opponent if he put his mind to it.

  “You’re tall. You could use that to your advantage,” Gray said, scratching a tattoo on his solar plexus. It was a round shape, with the white part of the yin-yang symbol and a missing space where its dark counterpart should be.

  “Teach him headbutting,” Knight called out with a grin. He pushed back against Jake’s punch bag to withstand the fervent boxing from the other side.

  “No!” Elliot’s answer came before he even thought much about it. “I’ve been hit on the head enough times to know I don’t wanna.”

  “Pussy.” Jake laughed and winked at Knight.

  Rage exploded in Elliot’s gut. Seriously? That was how they would be playing?

  Knight shrugged. “What do you know about pussies, Jake? Last time I checked, Elliot doesn’t have one.”

  Elliot smirked, instantly feeling like standing straight. There. Jake was not winning this round.

  Jake groaned and punched the punch bag a few times in a row. “I’ve been with a few girls back in high school.”

  Gray shook his head. “Jake, what are you trying to prove?”

  “I’m just saying I do know something about pussy.”

  “And you’ve seen me fuck Elliot at parties, so you know you’re wrong. Are we done with this bullshit?” Knight asked in the same level tone.

  Jake shoved at the punch bag so hard Knight actually had to step back so that the thing wouldn’t knock him over. “Yeah, we’re done. I was done for the day anyway.” He walked off with his shoulders stiff, and Elliot noticed Fane follow him with his gaze.

  “That man has so much potential,” Fane said, grinning from ear to ear. “He’s still growing, but I can’t wait to see him in full blossom.”

  Elliot rolled his eyes and made a gagging noise. When Knight raised his eyebrows at him, Elliot just said, “Fane.”

  “Jake would have snapped his head off before Fane could even touch him,” Knight said casually, watching Jake quickly put on his hoodie before rushing out into the snow.

  “He’d have to know what was coming first,” Fane whispered into Elliot’s ear.

  Gray shook his head and rearranged his silvery ponytail. “He’s been so twitchy lately. I kinda gave in and was spending some time with him, but I don’t know what’s up.”

  Knight exhaled and looked back at Jake, who was only halfway through the courtyard, no doubt freezing after leaving a room so hot without cooling off. “Maybe he can’t wait to be patched in?”

  Gray nodded slowly. “It has been what? Two years at least. Maybe he’s just cranky he hasn’t been getting any from you for months.” Gray shrugged with a small smile. “You know he only wants to do patches, so his pool of dicks is shrinking.”

  It took Elliot a few seconds to catch up with what Gray was saying, and his gaze darted to Jake disappearing from sight. So Knight hasn’t been fucking Jake. A surge of energy added to the pleasantly drunk feeling in his veins.

  2:0 for Elliot.

  Knight glanced at the wall. “Maybe he should widen his repertoire then. I only have so much steam in my balls. How about you give him some?”

  Gray chewed on that for a while, but Elliot was so happy by his new discovery that he couldn’t help a smile.

  “I did,” Gray said in the end. “But he’s too needy. We’re not really… compatible.”

  Knight shifted his weight, still keeping his eyes at the wall. He seemed almost relieved when his phone beeped and he frantically picked it up. The conversation was extremely short and ended with Knight saying he’d get somewhere ASAP.

  Elliot’s eyes grew wide at the thought of having to stay with Gray, who possibly held a secret grudge against him, and whose facial expression was usually unreadable.

  He approached Knight. “Are we going?”

  Knight pushed the phone back into his pocket and called Elliot over with a gesture. “Yeah. Sorry, Gray. I think we need to do the training another time.”

  “As you wish,” Gray said, following Elliot with his inquisitive gaze all the way to the door.

  They briefly stopped at the kitchen, where Knight picked up two large bottles of water, before heading for the staircase leading to his apartment. King’s ghost and his phantom blood didn’t faze Elliot anymore. He became yet another element of the interior, especially that no ghost apart from Fane had ever managed to touch him.

  He flinched away from King’s fingers even when they went straight through him, but stood still when Knight walked past the gargoyle and opened the door to the cellar.

  Elliot glanced at Knight, suddenly unsure of what was going on, and Fane instantly became more attentive.

  “What’s this?” Fane demanded. “Ask him.”

  “Is there something you want to show me?” Elliot licked his lips, not nearly as eager to walk into the darkness as he used to be. In the days he had spent alone with Fane, the shadows down there were his solace. For hours on end he would talk to Fane about things that now seemed a wrong turn in his life. Back then, Fane had been so charming, so sweet, so full of enticing words that Elliot never wanted to leave the dark cellar.

  Knight held his breath, a sure sign that something was off, but he soon cleared his throat and reached his hand out to Elliot. “Trust me, okay?”

  Fane crossed his arms and stood between Elliot and the open door. “I don’t trust him one bit.”

  Elliot curled his shoulders. “Okay, but he’s standing in the way. I don’t think he wants to go back down there.”

  Fane bared his teeth. “You think?”

  King’s laughter echoed through the hall. “They’re getting you back into your prison, Will! Your stink won’t be clogging up the air anymore!”

  Fane hissed something back at him, but all of Elliot’s attention was on Knight, who walked through Fane, as if he were a hologram, and put his arm around Elliot’s shoulders. “He’s not relevant anymore. I’m the one calling the shots.”

  Elliot gave a slow nod, but as soon as he stepped forward, Fane pushed at his chest so hard he stumbled back.

  “I don’t think so,” Fane said in that cool voice that was a promise of torment.

  Knight blinked when Elliot’s body slipped from under his arm, but he didn’t seem displeased and just leaned down, picking Elliot up as if Elliot were a princess in need of saving.

  “Better?”

  A silly smile pushed at Elliot’s lips and he wrapped his arms around Knight’s neck, cuddling up to his chest. “Much better,” he whispered, yet again blown away by Knight’s strength.

  Every time Fane put pressure on him, Elliot needed to remind himself that the influence was only there because Fane was inside of him, not because the ghost had any physical power. But that also meant Fane could force Elliot’s fingers to hurt Knight. To curl in Knight’s hair and pull so hard Knight winced.

  Elliot closed his eyes to focus only on pushing away the alien influence. “I’m sorry, it’s him. He wants to hurt you.”

  Knight grinned, as if he feared nothing and used his foot to pull the door open just enough so that he could maneuver them both into the narrow passage. The damp cold sank into Elliot’s bones immediately, reminding him of the nights and days when he stayed deep below the house and spoke only to Fane, who poured poison into Elliot’s brain. Getting back there was an idea so unpleasant he was glad Knight was carrying him.

  “Why, is he kinky? Maybe we should spank him if we get the chance. He used to be a very bad boy,” Knight said.

  Fane got so furious
he lost all control of Elliot’s body, and it was a relief so immense Elliot only hugged Knight harder.

  “I will not suffer these indignities any longer! If you want to get rid of me, get me Laurent’s blood, you dumb bucket of flesh!” the ghost roared, jumping two steps at a time.

  Elliot leaned in and rested his face in Knight’s soft long hair. “He doesn’t like the idea.”

  “Fuck him. Wait... did he like that? I bet he did,” Knight said as he carefully descended the stairs, not to fall over in the cramped space. Elliot could hear voices from down below, but he was too focused on Knight to care.

  “He looks away when we fuck,” Elliot said and chuckled. “I think it bothers him that he has no body to feel pleasure.”

  Fane looked back at Elliot with his gaze sharp as a razor blade. “I would never let another man sodomize me. I don’t care for being in your body when he satiates his lust inside of you.” He stepped closer and forced Elliot to meet his eyes. “Once he gets tired of your hole, I will be all you have left, and you will learn to do my bidding.”

  The words were like ice cutting into Elliot’s skin. He refused to answer the torment and sought warmth in Knight’s arms, breathing in the masculine scent of his neck and hair.

  He closed his eyes and kept them so when Knight got off the stairs. The world shifted, and when Elliot eventually sensed more space around him, it became clear they entered one of the chambers. The voices died down, but Elliot only dared to look around urged on by Knight’s stubbly chin rubbing against his forehead.

  “Should I put you down now?”

  Elliot nodded with a deep inhale, set on keeping his cool. Maybe he could learn to live like this? Every skill needed practice, so maybe with enough time dedicated to it, he could learn to keep Fane out until the monster of a man became background noise. Like that voice in Elliot’s head that always tried to put him down.

  When he opened his eyes, they settled on an unknown man in black. It became clear who he was when Elliot spotted a strip of white at the short collar of the stranger’s shirt. In the empty room, the crowd of three people was a choking presence that closed in on Elliot, about to tear his meat off the bone.

  “No!” Fane roared and pushed Knight back with all his force. Only a second later Elliot realized it was his throat that made the guttural sound, and his hand pressing on Knight’s chest. “I will not be contain—”

  Elliot grabbed his own neck and pressed on the Adam’s apple to stop Fane from speaking, but when Fane realized Laurent was also in the room, his force became unbearable, and he took over every fiber of Elliot’s being.

  The priest crossed himself, armed with a Bible and some other paraphernalia Elliot couldn’t name. The damp air immediately became thick, and the cool touch of it now felt hot as hellfire. Knight locked the door and put the key into his pocket, watching Elliot with razor-sharp focus.

  “We’re going to help you. Just work with us.”

  Elliot wanted to nod, but Fane only let him move one step toward Knight before launching himself at Laurent, who leaped back with a shriek.

  Beast stood between Elliot and Laurent, a wall of muscle impossible to cross. “The ghost is volatile,” he explained to the priest, but his gaze darted to Knight. “I told you to cuff him! We can’t risk this with Laurent around.”

  Knight swallowed, briefly meeting Elliot’s eyes. “I wanted to be gentle. If Laurent is at risk, why is he even here?”

  Beast’s glare alone made Elliot step back. “He’s here because the priest needs assistance with reciting in Latin. Unless you want to tell me you can replace him, he stays.”

  Laurent stepped out from behind Beast, and despite the obvious tension to his shoulders, he watched Elliot with determination. “And I wish to be here to see Fane banished from this world.”

  Fane reacted as if he were a bull seeing red and forced Elliot to take a step forward. Before he could meet Beast’s fist, Knight grabbed Elliot’s arms and pulled him back.

  “Get your hands off me!” Fane hissed through Elliot’s lips. His entire attention was focused on Laurent, and the heat of unadulterated hate was burning the back of Elliot’s tongue. “You will regret what you’ve done! I will peel away your skin and leave you to rot alive.”

  The priest opened the Bible, somewhat fidgety in the way he handled the thin pages. His plain features became sharper with worry, but despite the tremor in his voice, he wasn’t running. “Shall we proceed?”

  Beast’s lip curled. “The sooner the better.”

  Fane snarled, channeling his anger through Elliot’s body as he thrashed in Knight’s arms, just for the sake of pulling on Elliot’s joints. “He cannot get rid of me. You know he can’t. All you useless cunts will bleed out on the altar of my revenge. You just wait until my gargoyle grows big enough to do my bidding again! He will rip you apart and burn your bodies in his flames.”

  The priest took half a step back, and his wrinkled face drained of color in the pale light of the high-beam flashlight resting on the mantelpiece. “I—have you consulted a doctor before you came to me?”

  Laurent frowned and opened a thick book. “Father, you have agreed to aid us in this procedure. The evil force living inside of this man could take him over completely any day now. We don’t have time to waste.”

  Elliot screamed out, and Fane thrashed around with so much force a nasty pop came from his elbow joint when Knight had to pull him back. Elliot cried out in pain and shook his head, shutting his eyes when the world spun around him. This dark room would not only be the place of Fane’s death but his own as well. The realization hit him with the force of a truck, and a sob tore out of his chest.

  “Get him down!” Beast urged Knight, pointing to a mattress they must have brought in here for the purpose.

  Knight pushed Elliot to the springy mattress, his forehead wrinkled in a deep frown as he looked down at Elliot, holding him by the wrists. “It’ll be fine,” he promised against the background noise of the priest explaining that he wasn’t an exorcist and had only come round to perform a blessing.

  Fane laughed, squatting by the wall and watching their visitor with amusement twinkling in his cool eyes. “Only the devil has power in this house.”

  Elliot whined at the pain in his elbow, which grew more persistent due to struggling against Knight’s strength. “Leave me alone!”

  Fane rose and pressed his shoe against Elliot’s shoulder. “Oh, no, my boy. You’re trying to get rid of me. Where are your promises of undying love now?”

  “I was confused!” Elliot cried, not even caring anymore that he would sound like a madman, talking to himself. At least everyone apart from the priest knew what was happening. Laurent’s voice was monotone when he started reciting passages Elliot couldn’t understand, but the priest soon joined in, so it must have been some kind of prayer. The vicar spoke in a tight voice, so tense it seemed the joints of his fingers would crack through skin any minute.

  But Elliot focused on Knight’s face, on the messy hair that hung above him, so close it could soothingly brush against Elliot’s skin any moment. Knight glanced back at Beast, who watched the whole thing unfold with a severe expression that said precisely nothing, and then back to Elliot.

  “Is it working?”

  The priest chose this moment to sprinkle holy water all over, and Fane roared with laughter, suddenly turning around to face the wall. Elliot was stunned into silence, breathless when Fane put his foot flat against the wall and casually walked toward the ceiling, as if gravity had no influence over him.

  Elliot slumped to the mattress. “It’s not.” His throat felt raw from all the yelling, and only now he realized that for a brief moment he did hope the priest could force Fane out of his body. Now this glimmer of hope was gone, buried deep beneath piles of broken promises and miserable memories.

  Fane glared at Elliot from the ceiling, as if to mock him with his ridiculous position. Defying gravity completely, he didn’t even need to adjust his coat. It stayed
in place as if the surface beneath his feet was yet another floor. “You and me will need to have a serious conversation, Elliot. Be prepared. I won’t be gentle with you this time, you ungrateful man.”

  The two voices turned into a murmured chant so hypnotizing Elliot stiffened when cold droplets of holy water sprinkled his cheeks. The priest slowly got to one knee, leaning closer to Elliot with his face set into a pale grimace even as he continued his prayers. An earthy fragrance teased Elliot’s nostrils just before the priest touched his forehead, making a cross with a damp finger. It did nothing. Minutes stretched, and hope gradually drained out of Elliot as he watched Fane study him with a mocking smirk stretching his face.

  “I told you so. You are all going to die.”

  When the two voices eventually died down, Elliot wasn’t sure what happened at first. Time turned into a spiral, and he had no idea whether it had been five or fifty minutes. The priest’s gray eyes met his briefly, but the man got to his feet, as if unwilling to look at Elliot any longer. “That… is all. I would advise this young man to see a doctor.”

  Laurent’s mouth was set in an expression of determination, but that was no use. Fane was still etched inside of Elliot’s bones, and—Elliot knew this deep down—about to grow roots until there was as little Elliot in his own body as there was now of Fane.

  He choked on a sob and twisted his neck to hide from prying eyes. The pain inside him ran so deep he found it difficult to care about anyone’s judgment anymore.

  A warm, steady hand closed around his wrist. It was Knight’s, and he knew that from squeezing it intimately so many times.

  “Could a professional exorcist help in this kind of situation?” Laurent asked, but the priest exhaled deeply.

  “He should be assessed by a medical professional first. Only then would anyone agree to perform the rite. And besides, there is only a handful of exorcists in this country.”

  “Maybe we should try someone of a different faith?” Knight suggested.