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

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My Dark Knight (gay biker romance) (Kings of Hell MC Book 2) Page 33

by K. A. Merikan


  Elliot covered his ears, not even wanting to hear any of these discussions. He’d brought this upon himself. He’d called William Fane’s soul back into the world and invited the vile creature into his heart. It was his own damn fault that he was now saddled with a monster sinking his claws into Elliot’s body. Like many times before, when Elliot’s dream relationships went sour, Fane was becoming increasingly abusive, and he wouldn’t stop until there was nothing left of Elliot’s self-respect and dignity.

  Knight’s hand moved to cup Elliot’s head, gently rubbing his scalp, but despite the soothing touch and the hands pressed tightly against his ears, Elliot could still hear an argument unfold.

  “What you’re doing is utterly irresponsible. You need to promise me this boy receives the right care,” the priest raged until Beast made the commitment to do just that.

  Slowly, Elliot calmed down despite the thorn stuck deep in his heart, and by the time Beast called Knight over, he was almost fine to stay on the mattress on his own.

  “We’ll be right outside,” Knight said, and Elliot nodded with a sigh. “We’ll lock you in for your safety.”

  Elliot rolled over to his back as soon as the lock clicked, and all he could hear was hushed voices outside. Beast had taken the flashlight with him, and now only a glimmer of light came from under the door. Fane’s half-translucent shoes couldn’t block it as he approached. Sweaty and tired, Elliot couldn’t even care anymore about the cruel words that were surely about to fall on him.

  He just pushed his face into the mattress, breathing in its stale odor. Only the soft, masculine tone of Knight’s voice gave him a tiny hint of hope for the future.

  “That was an amusing spectacle,” Fane said, and Elliot flinched when the tip of Fane’s shoe dug into his ribs. “Such a pathetic sight. I should have made you soil yourself in front of him.”

  Elliot swallowed and rolled away, struck by the menace of that suggestion. Hadn’t he suffered enough? “Leave me alone,” he whispered. “You’re still here, nothing happened, and it wasn’t even my idea.” He needed to start being more agreeable, even if he wanted the ghost gone, because otherwise Fane would only unleash more cruelty upon Elliot.

  He could physically sense the grim presence above him, but when Fane pulled up his head by the hair, twisting it painfully, it was still a shock to Elliot’s system. Fane’s breath was cold and slimy on Elliot’s ear when he whispered.

  “Or maybe I should choke you to death with my own manhood. It would be a fitting end for a treacherous cunt like you.”

  Elliot’s anger flared up. He reached up to grab Fane’s hand, only to realize it was his own. He kept forgetting Fane was only an illusion projected by his wretched brain. “Well, you don’t have a dick right now, do you? And if you actually had a body, I bet your dick wouldn’t be big enough to choke anyone.”

  Fane’s lips curved with cruelty. “It is big enough to make any man bleed.”

  Elliot didn’t dare open his eyes. The man he’d idolized as a concept for so many years wasn’t as attractive in real life. The deaths of some boys two hundred years ago had been too abstract to care about them, and the man standing behind the crimes too alluring for Elliot to see them for what they were.

  Horrors, torture, pain, and suffering inflicted for William Fane’s fancy.

  No matter how much Laurent had annoyed him sometimes, Elliot couldn’t stand the offhand remarks about the cruel ways in which Fane wished to violate him as punishment for a ‘transgression’ which likely saved many lives that would have otherwise been touched by Fane’s cruelty. With his innocent big eyes and pretty face, Laurent was the stand-in for many others who had perished at Fane’s hands over the years.

  “Well, you won’t ever make another man bleed again,” Elliot whispered, turning his back on Fane.

  A sudden pull at his arms landed Elliot halfway to the mantelpiece. With his knees screaming in pain from hitting the floor hard, Elliot bit on the inside of his cheeks, listening to the steady clicking of Fane’s heels.

  “Learn some manners, my boy. I am tired of you not learning the simplest lessons,” Fane said and grabbed Elliot’s hand, tugging him along, farther away from the comfort of the mattress.

  Elliot tried to pull away, but it was no use. He was too tired, and Fane’s force was too great this time, as if watching Elliot suffer had somehow loaded his batteries. Regardless of his efforts, Elliot was a puppet in Fane’s hands. Every time Fane pulled on Elliot’s aching elbow, any will to resist died.

  “Stop, it hurts,” Elliot whined in the end, unable to think straight anymore.

  Fane let go of him only to lean down. At first Elliot wasn’t sure what Fane was doing, but then his eyes spotted a long, pale shape. It was the cane Elliot had tried to stab Knight with days ago. It had been here all along, forgotten yet still stained with Knight’s blood.

  Elliot breathed faster, and his throat tightened with tears as he thought back to the stupidity behind his actions. He’d endangered Knights life just because Knight didn’t love him back, as if Elliot had any right to Knight’s love, or anyone else’s. He’d been selfish, just like the damn ghost.

  Fane exhaled, straddling Elliot’s shoulders to keep him flat on his stomach against the icy floor. His weight was too great for Elliot to fight, even as steel shone in the glow of the flashlight, bared when Fane removed the short sword hidden inside the cane.

  A chill curled in Elliot’s stomach, but he looked up at Fane in defiance. “You can’t kill me. You’d disappear.”

  Fane grabbed Elliot’s throat with his icy hand, choking any sound that might have come out. “Oh, I don’t need to kill you, dear boy. But I will help you understand that your body is not your own anymore.” He lowered the sword to Elliot’s face, hovering the tip so close Elliot stiffened, not wanting to accidentally scar his cheek. “You will do my bidding, or you will suffer the consequences. Who knows? Maybe when all of this is over, you will live and walk away from this house. Here’s to hope.”

  Elliot choked up, his mind emptying so completely he didn’t even remember what put him in this position in the first place.

  Fane lowered the tip of the sword toward Elliot’s eye, and a scream pushed at Elliot’s throat, but with Fane holding his neck so tightly, he was unable to produce a sound.

  He’s not there.

  He’s not there.

  He’s not there.

  It took the desperate mantra to re-evaluate what was really happening, and when Elliot opened his eyes, it wasn’t Fane who was holding the knife, but his own hand.

  Elliot exhaled with relief when he realized that he was still in control. That he was able to overcome Fane’s illusion. The tip of the sword was so thin it was barely a glistening line. He breathed in and out, still watching it, incapable of breaking the spell and putting the thing down.

  “Don’t be so proud of yourself. I’m not done,” said Fane’s voice in Elliot’s own head, chilling his skull from the inside.

  When Elliot thought about throwing away the weapon, not one of his muscles moved, and he shuddered, breathless with panic. Trapped in his own body, he blinked away tears when his hand came lower, the blade close enough to brush against his eyelashes. No matter how much Elliot screamed on the inside, not a sound came from his lips. It was like being buried alive. Brick by brick, Fane was locking him out, using Elliot’s own body to hurt him.

  The sword pressed down suddenly, sinking into his eye as if it were a grape. Pain exploded in Elliot’s body, and yet, he couldn’t do a thing. Warm blood trickled all over his face, and all he could do was suffer in silence as Fane appeared in front of him once again, sitting on his chest and holding Elliot’s hand in the steel grip.

  “I own you. You will get me into Laurent’s body or I will slice you up piece by piece, so that even your dear Knight won’t recognize you.”

  Elliot let out the tiniest whimper as blood dripped into his other eye, coloring his vision red.

  Chapter 26


  “What was the point of doing this if he’s not a Christian demon?” asked Knight in the end, unable to stand the silence anymore. He and Beast had gone completely quiet and stayed that way since Laurent left to walk the priest back to his car. The attempt at exorcising Fane out of Elliot had been a spectacular failure, and now one of the most senior priests in Brecon thought they were denying someone psychiatric treatment, which could end up with him reaching out to the authorities about it.

  Beast took a deep inhale as if just to extend the time before answering. “He’s not a demon, technically. He’s a ghost.”

  “Since when can priests fight ghosts? We’ve put Elliot through all this on Laurent’s hunch. We need to think out of the box.” Knight knocked the back of his head against the wall, angry at himself that he hadn’t stopped the whole process much earlier and spared Elliot at least some of it.

  “Laurent’s from a different time. He probably assumed a Christian priest can fix anything spiritual. Maybe for now we should keep him in there, since that’s where Fane’s been trapped after he died?”

  Anger blasted inside Knight, and he stepped toward Beast, lowering his voice only because he didn’t want Elliot to hear any of this crap. “There’s no way in hell we’re keeping him locked up like a prisoner in this horrible, damp room. Haven’t you seen how this bastard treats him? They can’t be alone together!”

  Beast spread his arms with a groan. “They’re alone together now, and it’s fine. Elliot is his host, so Fane won’t hurt him. I’m more worried about what havoc he could wreak if he disappeared from your sight. And you heard him talk about the blood. If Elliot managed as much as to scratch Laurent hard enough to draw blood, Fane could enter Laurent’s body.”

  Of course. When it came to Laurent, it was a bigger issue all of a sudden.

  “Oh, so Laurent’s untouchable, but if he is tormenting Elliot, then that’s perfectly fine, and all we need to do is to quarantine Elliot. Do you even hear yourself?” hissed Knight.

  Beast rubbed his face. “It’s just that Fane’s already inside him. Wait. Maybe we could get your—Elliot’s dad to come over here and stuff Fane into him instead?”

  Knight pushed back his hair, increasingly frustrated. “I would have fucking congratulated you on that brilliant idea if my old man weren’t imprisoned. We can hardly bring him over here.” He stepped closer. “I mean, you and Laurent talk to that devil guy from time to time. Maybe he could come up with a solution?”

  The tension in the corridor got palpable, as if the devil could hear them and was already present somewhere in the shadows on the walls.

  “He’s not here to solve our problems. He will want things in return.”

  A tiny scratch resonated from one of the newly discovered rooms, and they both kept quiet, no doubt wondering whether it was just a mouse or a sign of the creature listening to every word uttered in his domain.

  Knight shook off the involuntary shudder that trailed up his back. “What kind of things? More parties? Fisting orgies? What else does he like?”

  Beast frowned at him. “Are you seriously joking right now? Your… whatever he is to you could die.”

  Knight’s chest tightened. “Well, that’s what I’m trying to prevent. This wasn’t a joke. I’m not the one who communicates with this horned shithead, so I’m politely fucking asking what to do.”

  “Elliot said it’s the sigil that’s holding souls bound to this place. Maybe we shouldn’t focus on getting Fane out of Elliot, but on taking the devil’s seal off Fane.”

  Knight frowned, and his mouth curved into a smile. “Now you’re talking, brother. That is a brilliant idea. Still needs to be talked through with that beast.”

  Beast pushed at Knight’s chest. “Don’t call it a ‘beast’, but fine. I will ask. Let’s get Elliot out of there, but maybe cuff him to yourself or something. Just in case.”

  Knight patted Beast’s shoulder. “Thank you. This is all fucking confusing, you know.”

  “I know. Once this Fane bullshit is over, we will need to focus on understanding what we’re dealing with. Laurent is finding lots of conflicting information in those old books. And then there’s only six of us plus a prospect. That’s hardly good enough to handle all the tasks at hand. Between our actual work with Magpie, the cover-up, and making the demon happy, there’s simply too few of us.” He opened the door and stepped inside.

  Elliot was off the mattress, curled up with his back to them on the cold floor, and his shoulders shook as if he were sobbing, but no sound came from his direction.

  Knight rushed over and kneeled behind Elliot’s back, about to pull him closer to make all the bad things Fane must have said to Elliot go away. But then his gaze trailed over the red-stained sword that had been drawn out of the silly cane, and all his senses rang in alarm so loudly he couldn’t think anymore.

  “Elliot?”

  Elliot gasped, as if only now he could breathe in, and he looked back very slowly. He was covering one eye with his hand, but Knight could already see something was horribly wrong. The pale face was smothered in blood, and Elliot moved his lips, trying to speak, but seemed unable to breathe in enough air to produce a sound.

  Cold fear trickled down Knight’s body and sank into his bones as he squeezed his fingers on Elliot’s shoulders, unable to utter a word either.

  The light moved, and when its bright beam flashed straight into Elliot’s face, the extent of the damage to it emerged from the shadow. Elliot moved his hand away, grasping at Knight’s cut, and he finally managed to form words.

  “He s-stabbed me. He made me stab my eye,” he said in a voice made of broken glass.

  “Fuck!” Beast hissed. “Quick, we need to get him out of here.”

  Knight stared, completely stiff and with his stomach squeezing so tightly it felt as if all his insides were folding into each other. “Oh, no, Elliot... I’m gonna fucking kill him.”

  Elliot’s voice came out of his lips changed. Confident and deep, as if from another person’s chest. “You can’t. I’m already dead.”

  “We’ll see about that, you sick motherfucker,” hissed Knight and shot to his feet with Elliot’s limp body cradled against his chest. He found Beast’s eyes, too frantic to do anything but hold Elliot close. “Drive us?”

  Beast nodded and led the way as they rushed into the corridor, and sped out of the basement. Knight wished he’d never allowed Elliot to even see this part of the house, let alone summon Fane’s ghost. Despite his size, Elliot was like a bleeding baby bird in his arms, clutching at Knight’s clothes and seeking comfort. His body trembled, and seeing the bloodstained hands and face filled Knight with such rage he was ready to take on a pact with seven different devils just to have Fane out of Elliot.

  “I’m sorry. I’ll never leave you alone with him. Never,” he promised, pulling Elliot even closer as he ran up the stairs and to the nearest door. Breathless, he was taken aback to see someone walking toward him, and even though something in his mind told him to brace himself for attack, it was only Laurent.

  “Christ! What happened?” Laurent approached, wide-eyed.

  Beast shook his head. “I will tell you later. Stay away from him.”

  “Did Fane do that?” Laurent asked, following them nevertheless.

  Beast wasn’t having it. “Stay away, Laurent. I will not be repeating myself.”

  This time Laurent listened and stopped in his tracks. Getting to the garage was the only thing on Knight’s mind. The way there was a blur, but soon enough he helped Elliot into the backseat as Beast took the wheel. The blood dripping down Elliot’s cheek begged to be avenged. For once, Knight wished Fane did have a body, just so that he could kill him all over again.

  *

  Knight didn’t know minutes could stretch so much, but as he paced back and forth along the corridor while the doctors took care of Elliot, every sixty second period turned into an hour, and each movement made Knight’s comfortable, well-worn clothes pull at his flesh. He couldn�
��t cope with this kind of stress. Violence, fear for his life, or those of his brothers—that was familiar, but witnessing the torment of Elliot, a guy who couldn’t possibly defend himself, who was gentle and sweet, was turning Knight into a bundle of anger and grief. He should have been at Elliot’s side at all times, and he’d failed. It was because of him that Elliot lost his eye. All his fault.

  He kicked the vending machine.

  “Sir? Please don’t do that again, or you will be asked to leave,” a harsh female voice reprimanded him from the other side of the corridor. The nurse glared at him and disappeared in one of the rooms.

  Knight shook his head and looked down, to the matte stains left behind by blood. They were at the front of his cut where Elliot had so desperately grabbed him, so defenseless, looking for help Knight could not provide.

  It was going to drive him insane.

  The sound of quick footsteps made him turn his head. Jake raised his hand in a silent greeting. “I heard what happened…”

  Which was most likely a made-up story, since Jake wasn’t even allowed to know about all the dark magic shit going on in the building, let alone exorcisms and William Fane’s ghost.

  Knight nodded nevertheless, glad to have company. Beast went to talk their options over with Laurent, and the silence left behind by his absence had been slowly becoming unbearable. “It’s a fucking mess.”

  “But he’ll be fine, right?” Jake came closer, staring at Knight with his baby blues, so unlike the deep, warm darkness in Elliot’s eyes.

  Knight swallowed hard. There was no immediate danger to Elliot’s body, but it was impossible to predict the damage of what Fane had done. And just thinking that Elliot would have never sought out Fane’s affection if Knight hadn’t rejected him was a thorn Knight couldn’t remove from his gut. “I guess.”

  Jake put his hands in his pockets. “So… yeah, if you needed some rest, I can hang out here for a while. I’d let you know if something changed.”

  Knight patted his own cheeks, only feeling somewhat tired when Jake mentioned it. “What time is it?”

 

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