Judgment Road

by Christine Feehan

  They came in just after midnight, seven members of the Diamondbacks. They didn't come in noisily. They were quiet, looking around, faces grim. They went to tables at the back of the room, directly across from the bar, looked at the occupants, who vacated immediately, and sank into the chairs.

  It was slow on Tuesdays. One waitress. One bartender. Preacher had gone to some big meeting Czar had called at the clubhouse. Reaper was there as well. Fatei was on as bouncer, but no way could he take on the Diamondbacks if they got ugly. She'd forgotten Absinthe sitting just down the hall, watching the monitor. The club took the security of the women seriously. He came sauntering out, reached around her to casually push the button that was hooked into the clubhouse.

  "Should have done that yourself, darlin'," he said softly and moved around her again to the hinged slab of bar that lifted.

  Anya watched as three more of the locals left their drinks right on a table and got up and left. She heard more Harleys. Big ones. Powerful. She lowered her lashes and settled her accelerating heart. She was a damn good bartender. Fast. Efficient. She could bullshit anyone. She glanced at Betina, who nodded and followed Absinthe directly to the table.

  "Nice having you here," Absinthe greeted. He didn't smile, because he wasn't a man who smiled much, but he did manage to sound welcoming. "Drinks are on the house. Just let Betina know what we can do for you."

  "You can introduce me to the bartender," one said.

  Absinthe didn't so much as change expression. "Anya? She is gorgeous. She's Reaper's old lady."

  Betina flashed her high-wattage smile at the group. "What can I get for you?"

  As she asked the question, seven more Diamondbacks entered. Anya's heart sank. No way would that many come in just for fun without someone warning them. She didn't know much about club life, but when the Diamondbacks were on the move, everyone knew about it. This run wasn't advertised.

  Absinthe and Betina stepped back as the Diamondbacks pushed tables closer to accommodate the new group. Absinthe and Betina helped with the chairs.

  "Czar around?" one asked. His patch proclaimed him the Mendocino chapter president.

  Absinthe nodded. "He'll be here in a few minutes."

  Betina came back with their orders, and Anya lost herself in fixing the drinks fast. She put them on trays and Betina swept them away. She served the men and returned, leaning across the bar, looking as if she was showing off what was under her short skirt, but mostly she wanted to be close to Anya.

  "If they start trouble, get out fast. Don't try to help." Betina kept her voice low. "These guys play for keeps. And while I'm at it, I just want to warn you that Tawny's seriously pissed. Lana and Alena paid her a visit, and it didn't go well for Tawny. They apparently didn't like that she kept at Reaper when he'd told her no. She didn't look good when she left town. Before she left, she had a lot to say, and she's very vindictive. Just watch your back from here on out."

  Anya wasn't certain if Betina had switched the conversation to really warn her, or if she'd done it because a couple of the Diamondbacks hadn't sat down with the others and were wandering around and the waitress didn't want to get caught talking about them. Anya nodded, just to show she was listening, but already she could hear the motorcycles arriving. She recognized the various bikes now. Reaper's was among them.

  Reaper and Savage entered through the front door, paused the way they always did and scanned the room. Reaper noted that one of the two Diamondbacks wandering the room was close to the bar, close to Anya. He flicked his gaze toward the middle of the bar where the hallway would have her back, indicating he wanted her in that position. Anya patted Betina's hand, gave her a small smile and moved to the middle of the bar where Reaper wanted her to stay.

  Maestro came up behind her and took his position behind the bar. "Sorry I was late, Anya, had a little trouble with a tub of ice cream."

  "You have such a sweet tooth," she fired back. He was lying his ass off, but if he could, so could she.

  The door opened and Lana and Alena came in, walking together, looking good the way they always did. The two of them drew the eye; man or woman couldn't help but look. Lana's dark hair curved at her chin, calling attention to that elegant detail. Her mouth was lush, her dark eyes framed with long black lashes, making her look exotic and mysterious. She had curves and she knew it, showing them off with her tight jeans and tighter tank. Her clothes screamed biker babe, and her looks screamed sheer elegance.

  Alena's platinum hair was thick and wild, falling down her back and around her face in untamed waves. Her ice-blue eyes were striking. She was average height, but there was nothing average about the way she wore her clothes. Like Lana, she wore jeans that hugged her butt lovingly, and her breasts threatened to spill from the red bra that seemed part of the black tank.

  Anya had no idea how they did it, but the two women commanded the room. The air went electric, and they had the attention of everyone. Neither looked around; they came straight to the bar, smiling at her.

  "Hey girl, missed you," Alena said. "You doing all right?" She slid her butt onto one of the stools and put her elbows on the bar, leaning into Anya's space.

  Anya felt the butterflies settle in her stomach. Alena and Lana always exuded such confidence. In themselves. In the club. Whatever was happening, they would help take care of things. She was determined to learn, so she could be more of an asset in any situation.

  "Great, Alena. I'm doing great. Things are good," Anya said. "You want a drink?"

  Alena nodded. "Make me something. I'm in such a mood tonight."

  Lana slipped onto the stool beside Alena, making a show of settling herself, shifting from hip to hip, mesmerizing the men in the room who had eyes on her butt. "She is, Anya. Fix her something refreshing."

  "And strong," Alena added, stroking a red-tipped finger along the bar as if it was skin and she was caressing it.

  Anya glanced up just to catch a glimpse of Reaper. She blinked. He wasn't there. Neither was Savage. They had faded into the darker corners of the bar, places the light didn't quite reach. No one had noticed, especially the fourteen Diamondbacks sitting together at the table, eyes on the women at the bar.

  "I'll make you a mojito. A strong one. The mint will refresh you, Alena. Who upset you?" She reached for a bottle.

  "Do your thing," Lana encouraged. "You promised you'd show us."

  Anya knew they'd never ask her if they didn't want her providing a distraction. Alena and Lana had gotten Reaper and Savage in position. She knew Preacher would be up on the roof outside, waiting to cover the Torpedo Ink members if they needed to retreat. She was slowly learning how they did things.

  Anya flashed a quick grin, caught up a napkin, her thumb on the crease facing away from her, spun it like a frisbee, caught it on the back of her hand, turned her hand over and dropped the napkin in front of Alena with a flourish.

  Alena laughed. "Nice."

  "Easy," Anya said and reached for the bottle of vodka. She did the move she liked, one she'd practiced an insane amount of time. It was merely a stall, the bottle coming to rest on the back of her hand, staying there a moment and then she did a slight toss, caught it and in one motion pushed it toward Alena, tipped it to pour into the glass before it could spill. The "stall" was one of her favorite moves. It was small, didn't slow her down, but effective.

  "Awesome," Lana said.

  "Feel better already," Alena agreed.

  Ice and Storm came up behind Anya from the hallway. Evidently, they'd come in the back way. Czar walked right behind them. Behind Czar were Master and Player. They were moving from behind the bar into the main room before anyone had noticed. Anya hadn't heard them come up behind her.

  Czar smiled and walked right up to the table of Diamondbacks. "Nice to see you again, Plank." He addressed the man with the patch on his jacket proclaiming him president. "Absinthe said you're looking for me."

  Absinthe hadn't left the bar. He hadn't spoken to anyone. Anya glanced at the camera ove
r the bar. There were dozens of them, most hidden from view, but every angle of the bar was seen in the monitors. There had to be audio as well. She made a note to be aware of that in the future when she was talking to customers. Many of them told her all kinds of personal things.

  "Need to talk," Plank said. He nodded to the second table of Diamondbacks. They immediately stood. "Clear the room."

  "Betina, you're off," Ice said. "Bannister. Call it an evening."

  The older man at the bar glanced at Anya. "You going home? I can escort you."

  "She stays," Plank said.

  The moment the president of the Diamondbacks decreed one of the Torpedo Ink women had to stay, the tension in the room went up several notches until it was stretched out to a screaming point. Bannister didn't seem to be affected. He slid off his stool without looking at the Diamondbacks. "Be outside if you need me," he said to no one in particular and sauntered out.

  Ice followed him and locked the door. He turned and leaned against it. Storm took the opposite side of the room. Czar slipped into a chair one of the Diamondbacks had vacated. Master and Keys sat on either side of him.

  Lana reached across the bar to Anya. "This goes bad, hit the floor," she said softly. "Don't look if you can help it."

  Anya wasn't about to argue. She didn't like the fact that Plank had insisted she stay. None of the Torpedo Ink members liked it any better. She'd heard more bikes minutes earlier. She knew the members of Torpedo Ink in the bar weren't the only ones around. The others were just out of sight. Waiting. Waiting for everything to go bad.

  "You sent us word that a group of men had gotten together and formed some kind of club calling themselves the Ghosts," Plank stated. "What do you know about them?"

  Czar nodded. "Code, our resident hacker, came across them. They were extorting money from another club that had asked us for help. When Code looked into the Ghosts, it was made up of several corporate men, very wealthy with ties to gambling in both Vegas and Reno. They play for keeps, Plank. They have no problem slicing up women and children if their demands aren't met. We saw that firsthand."

  "Mafia?"

  "Ties to it for sure. I think a couple of sons of owners in Reno started with an idea to target MCs because they figured we couldn't go to anyone for help. They start small, use computers to find members with gambling problems. Target them first, get them hooked, in deep, needing to pay off a large debt, and they flip them."

  Plank stirred. Looked around the table at his men. "You're saying someone in my club fed them information on us?"

  Czar nodded. "The Ghosts don't give a damn about the gambling debt. They want information on the club's activities. If you're running drugs through a pipeline, they want a cut. They want to use the pipeline to move their money around. They need to know what you're doing and how you do it. What kind of money they can get. Once they have that information, they go after the club president's wife. That's why we gave you the heads-up. Your wife was on their list. We sent the proof, the pictures they had of her taking her yoga class. Running up by the dam. Picking up your kids from school. She was a definite target."

  "Do you know who the mole is?"

  Czar shook his head. "I don't. Code might be able to find out for you. He's good at what he does."

  "I had her guarded night and day. Locked her away. She was pissed too. Sent the kids to her mother's, just to be safe. Had my men guarding them. They still got my wife. Knew right where she was. Killed two of my men." Plank glanced at Anya. "Took her right out from under us. My. Wife."

  Czar's fingers tapped on the table restlessly. "I'm sorry, man. These fuckers don't play around, Plank. You have to get her back or pay their price, whatever it is."

  Lana stood up casually and walked around the bar. Instantly there was a stir, the seven Diamondbacks moving to cut her off. She gave them a small smirk. "Bathroom. Come with me if you want, boys." She kept walking to the door marked "Women" and disappeared inside.

  Alena leaned across the bar to Anya. "Checkin' on Blythe," she mouthed.

  Anya's nod was barely perceptible. She realized that Plank was vaguely threatening her by insisting she stay. She knew the members of Torpedo Ink had gone on alert, but she hadn't realized she was the cause, that they were really threatening her. She had been identified as Reaper's. Uneasy now, she began taking care of all the empties behind the bar.

  Plank's enforcer, Jiff, had been identified by the patches on his jacket. He was a big man. Big to be intimidating. Reaper watched him move around the room, a deliberate act to show the members of Torpedo Ink that he was watching them. He never spotted Reaper or Savage. He hadn't even noticed they'd disappeared.

  The real threat came in the form of a slender man, one not noticeable. He was quiet, leaning against the wall, arms folded across his chest, almost as still as Reaper was being. That man had noticed they'd lost eyes on two of the Torpedo Ink members, and he continually scanned the room, searching for them. His patch declared he was a road captain named Pierce. Reaper knew that was bullshit. Or if he was, he was also Plank's greatest protector. He had draped himself against the wall behind Plank, in a position to cover him, take him to the floor if necessary. He was a man few would notice. Most wouldn't even mark him as a threat.

  There were fourteen Diamondbacks in their space. Three prospects outside. Another two actual patch members pacing the parking lot. Preacher would take out the two patch members and all three prospects if it came to that. He'd kill at least three outright before anyone realized the threat to them. The fourth would go down trying to return fire. The fifth might be a problem.

  He'd marked the road captain, enforcer and Diamondback nearest the president, the one on his right, in that order. Savage would take three more at the table. Czar would kill the president before he went to the floor. Ice and Storm would each take out two. Lana and Alena had indicated their targets. Master and Keys would take out the rest. The moment Plank had not so subtly threatened Anya, Reaper considered him a dead man. Even if he didn't kill him tonight, he would pay the man a visit.

  "Your man, Code. Can he find where they're keeping her?" Plank persisted.

  "Maybe. When we went after the wife of the president of the Demons, we took out their sanctuary. I didn't think they could regroup that quickly." Czar didn't point out that they'd offered to help protect his wife and track down the threat to her. Plank had been close to rude, stating they could handle their own shit.

  "She's not here, is she?" Plank came right out and asked.

  Czar sat back in his chair. "Seriously? That's fuckin' messed up. We bring you the word that you're going to take a hit, offer to help, without askin' for anything back, just out of respect and you accuse us of takin' her?"

  "Not accusing you. Just asking you. She's been gone eight hours. Tried to find the son of a bitch that helped them, but have no clue."

  Czar lifted his hand, and Absinthe, who had returned to his position behind the bar in order to help Maestro protect Anya, went down the hall to get Code. Reaper had no idea if Code could figure out where they'd taken Plank's woman, but no matter what, he knew the club was in trouble. The Diamondbacks had chapters all over the world. They were a big club, had no problem using violence to get what they wanted, and they had long memories. Torpedo Ink had made certain to show their respect so they wouldn't have problems with the club.

  "You meet Reaper?" Czar asked, holding Plank's gaze.

  Plank shook his head. "No." He sounded annoyed.

  "I think it's necessary that you do."

  Plank shrugged. "Bring it."

  Reaper moved then, coming out of the shadows as if a part of the dark wall had come to life. His face was scarred. Blank of all expression. His eyes were dead. Not just ice, but flat and glacier cold. He turned those eyes on Plank and let him see that his days were numbered and Reaper would cut his fuckin' heart out for threatening his woman.

  "Reaper, Plank, president of the chapter in Mendocino," Czar said. "Reaper's our enforcer. One of two. Hi
s brother is around here somewhere."

  The big man, the one wandering around, came at Reaper, stood close, too stupid to know Reaper would kill him in seconds. The man made it easy and seemed to be asking for it.

  "Reaper." Czar kept his voice low.

  Reaper didn't move. Didn't look away. These men had threatened Anya. Savage would be tracking the other one now, Pierce, the road captain who was no longer lounging so casually against the wall. Lana emerged from the bathroom right into the middle of the men waiting outside for her.

  Plank studied Reaper's grim features and then leaned back in his chair, his eyes on Czar. "You son of a bitch." There was respect in his voice. "You really don't have her."

  "No. We gave you the information and offered to help," Czar reiterated.

  Reaper was very aware the president of the Diamondbacks was president for a reason. He was intelligent, just like Czar. He could read men and situations. Plank waved the enforcer away. "Stand down, Jiff."

  Jiff continued to glare at Reaper. Plank sighed. "Are you crazy? Reaper, we're not a threat to your old lady. I don't wage war on women. Jiff, I told you to move on." The man poured steel into his voice.

  Reaper barely nodded. He stepped past Jiff as if the man was beneath his notice. He was making an enemy, and they'd worked hard to stay off the Diamondbacks' radar. They'd tried to do something good, to save Plank's old lady, and now they'd brought hell down on their heads. Fuck them. He'd go at them one by one. Take them out when no one suspected them.

  He glanced again at the president of the club. He'd suspect. He was too smart. He also recognized Czar had them boxed in. If push came to shove, they were all going to die.

  Code came out of the back with his computer. "Got something, Czar. Don't know if it's the place where they're holding her, but found another club. They like to hide in plain sight. This one is in Marin. It's smaller, and as far as I can tell, no underground tunnels . . ."

  He walked right past Anya, seemingly so intent on his computer and the information he'd come up with that he didn't notice the standoff in the room. Reaper knew better. Code was extremely lethal. He'd studied the monitors before he'd come out and he knew the position of every Diamondback in the room. He already had his plan of kill, just as Reaper did. Just as they all did. Reaper also didn't doubt that Code legitimately had information that would help find the Diamondback's woman.