One brow shot up as I waited. Venom stared at me for some time, as if he was trying to gauge how pissed I was going to be.
“Kalashnik paid a member of the Bloody Scorpions to nab Kira.”
“What? Why? Couldn’t he have sent one of his own men to get her?” The Bloody Scorpions were the worst of the worst. You name it, they were into it. Everything from meth and heroin to human trafficking. Seriously fucked-up shit. It was also the club in which my biological father had been a member. If he was still alive like my grandmother believed, then he likely still was. But why would he be here now?
“Maybe. We think it’s because there was more to the deal. You need to be careful. Something tells me it’s no coincidence that they’re involved. Top it off with all the times you’ve sensed you’re being watched, and I don’t fucking like it. Anyway, the assholes in the slaughterhouse aren’t going anywhere, but I wanted you to know we don’t have much time. De Luca expects you to uphold your end of the bargain.”
“Don’t worry. Tell him we have them. Send him proof if you need to. But tell him I get my time first. Then I’ll do as he wants. Facet was already on the Ivan situation. Most of his money is about to be liquidated.” I gave an evil grin at the thought of the New York City bratva leader being destitute and unable to pay his minions. It was a toss-up as to whether the better revenge was killing him or having him face his crew without any money.
“Raptor filled me in on everything that went down in Chicago. Are you sure your head’s in the right place to deal with all this?” He studied me intently, waiting for my reaction.
Inhaling a slow, deep breath, I took my time exhaling. “I’ve got this. Anything else?”
For a few seconds he steadily held my gaze. “No.”
Getting up, I paused. “Thanks for allowing me to handle this my way.” He nodded, and I left.
Ghost caught me in the hall. “Brother, I’m sorry.”
“Stop. I already told you, it wasn’t your fault.”
“If I’d gotten to him quicker—”
“No. We can’t control everything, nor can we manipulate everything the way we want it. We can only do our best—and that’s what we did. You had no way of knowing it was Ivan you needed to go after instead of Kalashnik. Thankfully, Angel was there.”
“I know, but she still hasn’t woken up.” His brow furrowed, and he looked away.
“I believe she’s going to be okay,” I reassured him.
“Do you?” His eyes flashed back to mine, almost in challenge.
“I do.”
Our gazes held for a moment, then he dropped his and nodded. My hand gripped his shoulder firmly, then I released him and continued on.
As I passed my room, I made a quick detour. Closing my door, I stepped inside, opened the closet, and pushed the few clothes from the middle to the sides. Kneeling down, I said a quick prayer, lit my sage and herb mixture, and picked up my gris gris bag. Holding a hand over my worn cards, I prayed to decide which to use.
I left the cards.
After untying the worn leather tie, I prayed again. Several times, I pulled an item from the bag and set it on the worn piece of red flannel. Studying them, I selected a few of them, returning the remaining to my bag and setting it to the side.
My fingers trailed over the various objects that sat on the small upper shelf, and I selected several small stones—two smooth, one rough. They went on the flannel cloth as well.
Next, I grabbed my bones from the scarred wooden bowl on the shelf and threw them. Scrying was a more challenging method, but I seemed to get more accurate answers when I did it. Selecting several that called to me, I arranged them and waited. Then I took the remainder, threw them again, selected more, and repeated the process. Finally, I scooped up the bones left on the table, raised them, then dropped them to the table.
Stopping to read them, I chanted low and breathed in the smoke. Then I returned them all to the soft bag and cleared my head as I rewrapped my gris gris bag.
Taking a strip of leather, I wrapped the flannel around the items that had been selected and secured it. As I chanted under my breath, I waved the small red pouch over the smoke. When I was done, I tucked them both in my pocket and extinguished the sage.
Once I knew everything was safe, I returned the closet to the way it was, and closed the doors.
Then I returned to Kira.
The blood had run, and Doc was putting everything away. Angel sat in a chair at the foot of the bed with his head bowed. Slipping past them, I pulled the other chair up next to her and tucked the red cloth pouch into the soft curl of her hand.
Holding it against her skin, I bowed my head and prayed. Never ceasing, I chanted the prayer my grandmother had taught me as a young boy.
I had no idea how long I’d been there before I fell asleep, my head lying on the bed next to her still, but thankfully warm, hand.
“Dawn Will Rise”—Thirty Seconds To Mars
I’d been fighting through the heavy fog for what seemed like hours. Over and over, I stumbled and fell. Nothing made sense. I would come across people, but they seemed to stare through me no matter how much I begged them to look at me.
Because there was very little light and no landmarks, I had no idea if I was going in circles, but I came across the same older woman time and time again. Her mouth would move, but no sound would ever come out.
I’d screamed for Ogun repeatedly until I was hoarse.
It wasn’t until I begged for him as Voodoo that the fog began to thin. Through the wisps, I saw his tall, imposing, and beautiful form emerging. My heart racing, I ran.
When I slammed into his broad chest and his arms wrapped around me, I cried tears of joy. He looked down at me and his mouth curled into a beautiful smile. Relief poured through me as I reached up to press my lips to his—except right as they brushed his, he faded into smoke and was gone.
Spinning around, I screamed for him. When I realized he was truly gone, I dropped to my knees, sobbing. It was then that I realized there was something in my hand, but I didn’t remember him giving anything to me.
Slowly, I unfolded my fingers to find a velvety-soft red flannel pouch.
The next thing I remembered was fighting to open my eyes. My lids were so weighted that it was a struggle, but finally, I blinked weakly. Everything in me ached. Trying to move proved impossible. I was as weak as a newborn.
With each breath I took, it seemed I inhaled more life. Sensing movement, I lifted my head from the pillow. Standing in the corner, watching me intently, was Ghost.
“Ghost?” Confused, I questioned him. He gave me a half smile, then I swear to fucking Christ, he disappeared before my eyes. “What the—”
Then I realized Ogun was asleep next to me. Well, he was sitting in a chair that looked uncomfortable as hell, his dark head resting next to my hand. When I made a move to reach for him, my hand slowly opened, and the red pouch from my dream was in it.
My brow furrowed as I stared at it in confusion.
Passing it to my other hand, I squeezed it tight and sifted my free hand through his dark, messy hair. My thumb traced over the arch of his bold brow. Slowly, his eyes opened, and the startling blue took my breath away.
It seemed an eternity, but I knew it was mere heartbeats that we sat with gazes locked before he bolted upright.
“Kira,” he rasped in a sleep-scratchy tone. His expression eager, he tenderly kissed the inside of my wrist. “How are you feeling?”
“Confused. Tired. Weak.” Glancing around, I furrowed my forehead. “Where are we? What happened? And what is this?” I held up the small red pouch.
“Fuck, baby. So much.” Carefully, he scooted me over in the bed and crawled in with me. Then he tucked me into his warmth, and everything was perfect. A sigh of satisfaction slipped from my soul. “That is a gris gris I made for you. Keep it with you always, okay?”
“Why? What’s in it?” Holding it up, I felt several small objects inside it.
“L
ittle bits of things that have energy or protective properties that I read for you” was his vague answer. Then he kissed me so softly, it was a mere feather of a touch, yet it still made me forget where my head had been.
I think I dozed again, but I had no idea for how long. When I woke, I was tightly entwined with Ogun, and his thick, strong arm held me protectively as he lightly snored. A smile curled my lips as I burrowed deeper into his embrace.
“You awake?” he murmured against the top of my head.
“Yeah, but I had the weirdest dream earlier,” I whispered. His chest rumbled under me as he chuckled, then his hands gently framed my face and lifted my head. His eyes searched mine, then he met me halfway and our lips brushed.
Flames licked at the edges of my sanity. Crawling up his massive body, I leaned over him and allowed my hair to curtain us. Desire rippled through my veins, and I couldn’t get enough of him.
Reluctantly, he broke free and lifted me back. Our gasping breaths still mingled, and I arched into him with a moan.
“Easy, I don’t want you to overdo things.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” I said as I tried to get back to his kisses. Again, he chuckled.
“My little wild one,” he said with a soft half smile.
“I love you, Ogun,” I blurted out, unable to hold it in anymore. It was as though if I didn’t get it out that very second, I may never have the chance to say it again.
His chest lifted as he sucked in a breath, then it deflated quickly. “Fuck, babe. I love you too. Probably have from the first second I laid eyes on you.”
My heart imploded with joy. Then my body rubbed greedily against his, but he stilled my motions.
“Wait. Let me have Doc check you out. Okay?”
“Doc?” I wrinkled my nose. Dr. Moran was not going to be assessing me! Petulant, I grunted. He lifted his hips to pull out his phone. He sent a text, then set the phone down. “Come here. Let me hold you.”
Unable to resist, I settled into him and rested there until the door opened and he carefully extricated himself from me and got out of the bed. An older guy I assumed was the Doc Ogun had been referring to stepped into the room. A kind smile went all the way to his eyes.
“Hello, Kira. I’m Doc. You gave us quite a scare. Do you mind if I do a quick exam?”
My eyes darted to Ogun, begging him not to leave me. “I’m naked,” I whispered with wide eyes.
“That big oaf can stay in here if you want,” Doc said with a chuckle. An embarrassed smile slipped across my face as I nodded.
Ogun pressed a kiss to the top of my head.
Doc did all the typical things a doctor does. Stethoscope, light in my eyes, feeling my lymph nodes and all that shit. But then he skimmed his hands over me as his eyes remained closed. Though I could feel the heat from his palms, he didn’t actually make contact with me.
When he was done, his eyes opened and he seemed extremely pleased.
“Good?” Ogun asked.
“Perfect,” Doc replied.
Ogun exhaled a sigh of profound relief. Then he shot off another text before raising his gaze to me and Doc.
“I’m taking her to my room to get cleaned up. I told Venom I’d be back tonight to finish up.”
Doc nodded and returned his attention to me. “It was a pleasure meeting you—the one who finally tamed this young scoundrel. Wish it had been under better circumstances, but we don’t always choose our paths.” He looked toward Ogun. “If there’s nothing else you need, I’m heading back to my grandbabies.”
Ogun reached out to shake his hand, then pulled him into a weird handshake/hug thing. They whispered a few things, and Doc stepped back with a wry grin.
“Take care of this one,” he said to me. “I already know he’ll take good care of you.” With one last nod, he was gone.
“Ogun. What the fuck was that?” I asked in consternation. It was honestly as if I’d dropped into someone else’s life. In another dimension.
Instead of answering me, he dragged a hand through his dark locks and down his face.
“Come on, baby, let’s get you cleaned up.” He picked me up like a child and carried me down the hall wrapped in the white sheet and into the room I remembered very well from our first date.
When he set me on my feet in the bathroom, he rested my ass against the edge of the sink. “Lean on there for balance.”
“I’m fine.” I waved off his fussing hands. “What the hell is going on?”
When I tried to turn to the mirror, he stopped me. “Get in the shower,” he urged. My eyes narrowed. He was acting weird. Thinking about it, I realized something, and before he could stop me, I spun around.
The image in the mirror had me gasping in horror. Someone had obviously tried to clean me up, but there was still blood crusted in my hair, smeared across my chest, on my arms. It was like I’d been part of a sick movie or killed an animal. Or worse.
The sheet dropped forgotten to the floor as I looked again for some sign of injury.
Because other than being a little weak, I was fine. The entire scan of myself in the mirror and looking down at my body showed nothing. Not a scratch. Whipping around, I started to strip his clothes off him in a frantic rush. He stilled my hands when I got to the waistband of his jeans.
“Kira.” When I fought to finish undressing him, he said my name more forcefully. “Kira!”
Finally, I paused. A shaking breath dragged deep into my lungs, and I slowly met his eyes. “Are you hurt?”
“No.” He seemed to be waiting for something.
“What the hell happened? Ogun, this is getting weird. Talk to me. I know you know something.” The whole this was giving me a headache.
“How about if we get you cleaned up first?”
“No. Now,” I demanded as my head pounded.
Looking skyward, he seemed to be trying to find the words. What he finally told me was a story so unreal that I seriously believed I was dreaming. The thought that people could “magically” heal someone on their deathbed was something from fairy tales and movies.
“Then why don’t I remember any of this?” I skeptically questioned. My mind went crazy trying to remember. Except I had no idea how I’d ended up in that bed, or why I was covered in dried blood. The last thing I remembered was walking out the door after work.
“I don’t have an answer for that,” he replied. “Maybe it was your mind’s way of protecting you from a breakdown? Fuck, I have no clue.”
“What if I don’t believe you?” Lifting my chin, I crossed my arms and stared at him. My eyes squinted as I fought the raging pain.
“To be honest, I don’t expect you to, but that’s what happened. What you shouldn’t know, but you have a right to know, is that your father isn’t going to survive this. Neither is your brother.” His nostrils flared, and I read blazing anger in his eyes.
“My brother?” My heart dropped at the thought of Viktor or Dmitry being in danger. My father, I could care less about, because since I was fifteen and he ruined me, I’d fought to keep the utter hatred I had for him bottled up.
With a curl of his lip, he spat, “Anatoly.”
Relief blossomed in me, because Anatoly was as evil as our father. “Fine. But why are you telling me this if you aren’t supposed to?”
“Because there are things that we do as Royal Bastards that you don’t need to know about. There will be many things that will fall under club business that I won’t be able to tell you, but this is your family we’re talking about.”
At the word family, I clutched my head—the pain excruciating by then. It was so bad, I cried out and nearly collapsed.
Ogun’s hands were holding me up, and I could hear him calling out to me, then someone else. Except it was but a mumble over the whooshing in my head. Flashes of images bombarded me and with them, the past twenty-four hours flooded back.
Pushing free of his hold, I leaned over the toilet and emptied my stomach. The sheet was draped over me, and I loo
ked up to find it was Ogun covering me as Angel stepped into the small space.
“Get your big ass out of the way,” Angel said to Ogun, who growled at him.
Angel laid a calloused palm against my cheek and the other at the back of my head. Slowly, the pain began to ease, but the tears still ran down my face. “Breathe easy, little one,” he murmured.
“So you really saved me?” I asked in confusion, because I was completely and totally overwhelmed by that point.
Of course, he didn’t answer, merely shrugged modestly. He was a hard man to read.
“Can you take your hands off my woman now?” Ogun growled. Angel chuckled, winked at me, then released my face.
“Let me know if you need anything else,” he said before he kissed the top of my head and stood, drawing another growl out of Ogun. It was pretty evident he’d done that to mess with him.
“Sasha?” I questioned, dread pooling in my belly.
“She’s gonna be okay. She’s with Veronica, as she needed to be monitored overnight. I’m paying her to keep her for a couple of days because I wasn’t sure how your recovery would go,” Ogun said softly. Relief had me sagging into the wall.
They spoke quietly over by the door to the room while I got up and turned on the water for the shower. They were still talking by the time the water got warm, so I stepped under the spray. Closing my eyes, I let the water beat down on me as I replayed the events of the past twenty-four hours—hell, I wasn’t sure what time it was, so I didn’t know how long it had been.
“Got room in there for me?” My head rose at the sexy rasp of his voice over the shower. As beads of water dripped from my eyelashes, I nodded. Slowly, he climbed in and turned me around. My shoulders drooped as he massaged shampoo into my hair and scalp.
When he was done, he gently tugged my head back and rinsed it. A soft kiss was pressed to the pulse in my neck where I knew I should have a scar. Then he reverently lathered my body, all the way down to my feet.
Voodoo (Royal Bastards MC: Ankeny IA) Page 15