Twisted Steel: An MC Anthology: Second Edition

by Elizabeth Knox

“Yeah,” Inferno joined in. “That purple-red hair of hers is hard to miss. Someone will remember it.”

  That was true. Magenta’s dyed locks were as bright and bold as the woman herself. They’d leave a lasting impression.

  They put their dishes in the sink and thanked Grey Smoke for the food. Stone brought out the presents he’d purchased the evening before.

  “For you,” he told Grey Smoke. “For sharing your gifts and helping us.”

  The large bag held a colorful blanket to use for himself or his horses. The second bag contained a pouch of loose tobacco that he could use as a sacrifice, an offering to the four directions, Mother Earth, and Father Sky. He was thanking Stone and paused midstream when their President reached inside the sack and pulled out a tub of gummy bears.

  You’d have thought it was caviar and crackers from the look on the shaman’s face.

  “Perfect,” he whispered reverently, setting them inside his pantry full of home-canned vegetables and dried meats.

  “Until next time,” Stone told him, clasping forearms in parting.

  “Be safe,” Grey Smoke intoned, making it sound like a blessing and a parting benediction.

  Stone released his hold and cast a look over his shoulder. “Let’s ride.”

  They headed out, angling northeast, headed for the Valley of Fire. Located south of Overton, the state park covered nearly 46,000 acres and boasted striking red sandstone formations formed millions of years ago. It was harsh, unforgiving desert terrain with terracotta sand, rugged rocks, and scrubby vegetation. Quake had visited before, wanting to see the petrified wood, geological formations, and 3,000-year-old Indian petroglyphs.

  Today, he only wanted to see Magenta.

  They drove all fucking morning and didn’t see shit. Stone made them stop for lunch, pack in some food, and rehydrate. They searched all afternoon until they were forced to stop for gas.

  No one traveled here unless you made sure you could get there and back. Towns were too fucking far apart not to top off when you had a chance.

  They risked using the restroom just for the chance to wash their hands. On the way out, the bubble-gum girl behind the counter checked them out, eyeing them with a mix of feminine appreciation and suspicion.

  “If you’re looking for your friends,” she snipped, “they left about fifteen minutes ago.”

  “Friends?” Stone asked, his curiosity piqued.

  “Bikers,” she answered curtly, handing her customer his change and closing the cash drawer. “They got a clubhouse east of here. Always stealing shit when they come in.”

  Ryder looked affronted. “Not us,” he swore, drawing up to his full height and slipping into Viking mode.

  She must be a fan of the show, ‘cause she nearly creamed her pants. “Not you,” she breathed, eyeing his axe and his crotch.

  “What club?” Stone wondered. “It’s on the back of their cuts. Their vests.”

  “Cuts,” she repeated, grinning slyly. “I know. I read MC. They’re the Death’s Head MC, Valley of Fire Chapter.”

  Grey Smoke’s words echoed. All this time, they’d been looking in the Valley of Fire when they needed to find the Valley of Fire clubhouse and the Death’s Head MC. Fuck, fuck, fuck. It made sense that Phantom would spirit her away to friendly territory. She must be there. Except . . .

  “You say they were here fifteen minutes ago. Did you happen to see a van with them? Or a woman with purple-red hair?”

  “No and no,” she answered. “But there was talk about heading to the diner down the road.”

  “How far?” Stone questioned.

  The girl pursed her lips and pointed. “About half a mile.”

  “Thanks,” Quake told her over his shoulder, already headed for the door.

  “A fucking different chapter,” Inferno growled as they made their way toward their bikes. “Those bastards are like cockroaches.”

  “If they haven’t left, then we have a chance to follow them,” Stone told them, swinging his leg over his bike to settle onto the seat. “Cuts off,” he ordered. “Hide them in your saddlebags. We don’t want to stand out any more than we do, and we sure as hell don’t want the jackals to know who we are. No one—and I repeat, no one!—engages them in a fight. We need to see where their clubhouse is and find where they’re keeping Magenta.”

  Once she was safe, all bets were off. Quake was going to kill Phantom for taking her.

  If Stone had a problem with that, too bad.

  It was only four o’clock, but the diner’s parking lot was packed with vehicles, including a row of six bikes. Inferno scoped out the place, rounding the back of the building and peering in through the side windows.

  “I saw them,” he told them when he came back. “No sign of Phantom but they’re wearing Death’s Head—Valley of Fire colors.”

  Stone nodded. “Partial shift,” he ordered. They’d still look human but a partial shift made them virtually indestructible. “Keep your weapons out of sight but in reach, clips full and safeties on. We tail them when they leave and stick to their ass like flies on honey. Understand?”

  The men made sounds of agreement.

  It was an hour before the six jackals came out. The sun had set and night had fallen. A couple stopped to empty their bladders by a rock before joining the rest on their rides. The sounds of engines roared through the air. The Death’s Head MC took off, pulling out of the parking lot in a cloud of dust.

  Darkness was the Dragons’ friend. Driving with their lights off, they hung back far enough to keep the jackals’ tail lights in view. Wherever they were going, they were doing it in a hurry. An hour’s drive into the middle of God knew where and it looked like they’d reached their destination. The Death’s Heads members continued along the dirt road toward a large structure. An electrified fence surrounded the place, as well-lit as a prison yard with a barn-like structure in the center and a panel truck parked nearby.

  The Dragons took refuge behind a boulder.

  Quake kept his gaze glued to the bikes in the distance until they pulled over. “That doesn’t look like a clubhouse.”

  “No, it doesn’t,” Ryder agreed.

  “What the fuck are they doing way out here?” Inferno scanned the scene. “Look. The truck’s moving.”

  In silence, they watched a truck back up to a pair of large wooden doors. The jackal bikers skirted past it and went into the building. Quake felt a fluttering of foreboding. What the hell were they up to? Whatever it was, it was nothing good.

  It was another ten minutes before he had an answer.

  A figure emerged from the barn. A woman. Naked. Running.

  Warning cries erupted behind her.

  The blonde didn’t get as far as the fence before the jackals caught her.

  Clenching his hands and forcing himself to watch, Quake held himself back from intervening. If Magenta was here, he needed to know. From the looks of things, she wasn’t the only woman they’d kidnapped.

  “Fucking bastards,” Stone growled under his breath. “How many have they got in there?”

  Ryder stroked his beard. “That’s a pretty big truck.”

  Inferno shifted uneasily beside them. “Christ, we can’t just leave them down there.”

  “Agreed,” Stone murmured. “We can’t let them reach wherever it is they’re planning to take them. We’ll need to hijack them en route.”

  Quake rounded on him. “And Magenta?”

  “I’ll bet you ten bucks she’s down there too,” his leader rumbled. “If they’re selling them in the sex trade, she’s worth some money.”

  He hated the fact that Stone was right.

  Their President pulled out his cell phone and punched in a number. “Doc? Yeah, Stone. Listen. We have a situation. It looks like a sex trafficking ring run by shifters. We don’t know how many victims or if we’re dealing with any humans, but at least one shifter we know is missing. Hopefully, she’s here. Either way, we can’t let the panel truck they’re using get to whereve
r it’s going but we’ll need safe transport once they’re liberated. Inferno, get me our GPS coordinates.”

  He gave Doc a description of the place, what road they’d taken, and their current satellite location. “If you can head this way, I’ll call you with updates. Hopefully, you won’t be too far behind us. When it goes down, it’s going to go down quick. We’ll need to get the hell out in case they call for backup.”

  Stone ended the call. Quake took heart, knowing help was on the way. Doc was a good man. They could always count on him to help—especially when a shifter was involved.

  Ryder’s voice interrupted Quake’s thoughts. “I count eight men. No, wait. Nine. Isn’t that . . . ?”

  “Phantom,” Quake snarled, his attention slicing to the jackal and the woman he was dragging along beside him. The bag over her head made it harder to identify her, but Quake would know those dangerous curves anywhere. “That’s Magenta.”

  “You owe me ten bucks,” Stone reminded him with a grin. “Mount up and be ready to roll when I give the signal.”

  Quake was a seasoned warrior with centuries of proving himself in battle. He readied himself, focusing his senses but unable to untangle the odd knot of fear in his gut. Given his experience, to feel it now was disconcerting.

  They stayed hidden by the boulder. The truck rolled by, followed by the six Death’s Head motorcycles. Close behind them was a second transport—a cage like the one the jackal had described.

  Casting a silent glance at Stone, he noted their President’s look of irritation. Wherever it had been parked, they’d completely missed seeing it. Fuck. It had to be the van they’d been searching for all damn day.

  The bikers kept their distance from the panel truck, giving the dust a chance to clear before they drove through it. Once they hit the hard road, the truck and bikes took off, headed somewhere in a hurry.

  Driving with their lights off, the Dragons fell in behind the cage with guns loaded and ready, watching the terrain for the best place to make their move. They needed a curve or hill—anything that would separate them from the pack and blind the jackals to what was happening behind them.

  Seeing another bend up ahead, Inferno drew his gun, aimed at the rear tires of the vehicle, and fired off two shots. They blew instantly, sending the van skidding dangerously across the road. Quake chased after it until it jerked to a stop. Halting his bike and climbing off, he flipped on the high beam of his headlight to blind them and darted to the side to draw his weapon in the dark.

  Inferno joined him. Stone and Ryder drove on, chasing after the truck.

  The light from his bike illuminated the cage enough to see that one of the two men inside was Phantom. The passenger beside him had a hood over her head.

  “I got this,” Quake whispered, keeping his voice low enough the others wouldn’t hear him.

  “You sure?”

  “Positive.”

  Inferno backtracked to his ride.

  The first jackal crawled out of the driver’s side with his gun raised. Quake took him out with one shot, hitting him between the eyes.

  Phantom’s attention jerked to the window at the sound. Eyes widening when he saw someone was coming, he grabbed the woman beside him. Pressing the barrel of his pistol to the side of her hooded head, he kicked open the door.

  “Come any closer, and her brains will paint the inside of the van,” he swore.

  A bullet might not hurt Quake with his stone-like skin, but it wouldn’t help Magenta.

  “Let her go.”

  Magenta’s covered head moved in his direction as if she recognized his voice.

  “No chance! We have big plans for this bitch!”

  “I’ll just keep coming for you,” Quake vowed. “You won’t be able to eat, sleep, or take a piss without seeing my face.”

  Phantom hissed through his teeth, “Not if you’re dead.”

  He aimed his gun and emptied his clip.

  The bullets didn’t harm him, thanks to Quake’s partial shift, but the cocksucker ruined one of his favorite shirts.

  Magenta must have been counting rounds. As soon as his clip was empty, she lunged sideways, ramming Phantom to the far side of the seat. Bringing her bound hands up blindly, she clawed at her captor, trying to get past him to the passenger’s side door.

  “Bitch,” Phantom spat, backhanding her so hard, her head hit the window with a sickening crack.

  Glaring at him with a death-stare, Quake charged.

  Scrambling over the front seat, the jackal fell out of the driver’s door in his hurry to escape. Climbing in beside Magenta, Quake carefully cut off her hood and checked her pulse. She had a goose egg where her head had hit the window and a trickle of blood, but her respiration and heartbeat were normal enough. Relieved to find her merely unconscious, he turned his attention to Phantom, only to have it torn by the sound of an approaching vehicle.

  Gathering Magenta in his arms, Quake took off running, needing to hide her or be forced to explain the state she was in, naked and injured.

  He stopped when he heard the telltale horn of Doc’s RV playing “First Call” like a horse ready to bust out of the starting gate.

  Thank fuck.

  Turning back, he sacrificed the rest of his shirt, shredding it to unfurl his gray bat-like wings and fly Magenta over to him. Folding them back, he followed the veterinarian into his RV where Dr. Laskaris could check her over.

  The Doc took one look and frowned. “Isn’t that—”

  “Magenta,” Quake confirmed, trying not to feel jealous, wondering how often Doc paid for her time. “Take care of her. There’ll be more up ahead when you’re done. Right now, I have to hunt down the son of a bitch who took her. I’ll catch up with you later.”

  Leaving her in Doc’s capable hands, Quake exited the RV and took to the star-studded sky. Wings beating the air, he soared high and glided down, eyes sweeping the night-dark terrain beneath him for any sign of his prey, his ears listening for any sound. He heard something racing in the direction that they’d come from, paws hitting the ground at a fast pace.

  The coward was running for it.

  There was no way in hell Quake was going to let him get away.

  12

  Quake dove like an avenging angel, driven by vengeance and a need for blood. Locking onto the sound of paws hitting the ground, gaze trained on the jackal’s movements, he descended on his target. Hands reaching down, Quake’s fingers gathered a fistful of fur as he dropped to the ground. The animal’s unearthly scream startled him enough to loosen his grip and let the beast break free.

  Shaking off the shock, he took off after the creature, his feet moving swiftly over the rugged terrain to close the gap between them. Lunging forward, he grabbed again, his hands finding the jackal’s haunches. Growling fiercely, Phantom’s animal form bared its fangs and attempted to ravage Quake’s arm. Being still in stone form, he couldn’t be mauled no matter how his nemesis tried.

  The jackal shifter only managed to break a tooth in the process.

  “Nice try, asshole,” Quake muttered.

  When he tried to bite him again, Quake broke his fucking jaw. Grabbing the other canine with his fingers, he pulled the fang out of the jackal’s head.

  “There. Now you’ll match. Sort of.”

  The pussy was crying now, whining like a baby when he shifted back to human form.

  “Bastard,” Quake spat, grabbing his dick next and ripping it off. The jackal shifter howled like a banshee. “You’ve hurt the last woman,” he told him, wishing he would have waited to break his jaw. He should have questioned the son of a bitch. Seen where they were headed. Learned what their plans were.

  Too late now.

  Knowing he wouldn’t get more from him, he ripped the head from his shoulders and tossed it aside, breakfast for the vultures come morning. There would be no decent burial for this piece of shit. His remains would go to feed the earth and the animals out here.

  Quake crouched on the ground, finding the fa
ng he’d ripped from Phantom when he was in jackal form. Closing his fingers around it, he dug in his pocket for something to wrap it in. Something to show Magenta that the bastard was dead. Finding a square foil package in his back pocket, he tugged it out. A sad waste of a good prophylactic, but it was better than nothing.

  Tearing open the condom, he wrapped the fang inside it and tucked it back into its packaging. Stowing it in his pocket, he unfurled his wings and took to the sky. Heading in the direction of the road, he saw headlights far below. It looked like the others had managed to stop the truck. The Death’s Head bikes were in front of it now, using the truck as a shield. The night air echoed with the sound of gunfire.

  Stone and the others were managing just fine without him.

  He heard one biker yelp when he was hit. Warnings that another was down. “I’m out of ammo,” someone said.

  “Me too.”

  “Let’s get the hell out, boys. No bullets. No use. At least we’ll live to fight another day!”

  Four jackals took off, abandoning the truck and its cargo.

  The driver’s door flew open. A male stumbled out, gun blazing. Three Dragons each put a bullet in his brain.

  Quake landed by his brothers. Stone was already on the phone with Doc, ordering him to bring up the RV. They waited for him to park behind the truck before opening the door, in case they had runners.

  “We’re here to help,” Inferno called, his hand on the overhead door latch, his true voice making their purpose clear. “Please stand back while we open the rear door. There’s an RV here to take you to safety. If anyone’s injured, we have a doctor standing by.”

  The door was raised. Twenty-nine women, all different kinds of shifters, emerged one at a time to be shown to the other vehicle. Magenta was alert enough now, Doc helped her into the front passenger seat and rolled down the window to let her talk to the women as they came, assuring them they were safe, that these men were good men, here to help. She told them that they were friends who’d come for her but they weren’t going to leave the others behind.

  It cost her, Quake knew, from the strain he heard in her voice and saw on her face. A hooker with a heart of gold. That was Magenta. Waiting for the last ones to load, he stopped by Magenta’s window, caught her hand resting halfway out, and brushed a kiss across the back of it. “Hey, beautiful.” He smiled.