The Devil's Due (22 page)

The Rat’s head lolled backwards and I heard a flat voice rise above the crowd. “Enough,” Moloch said just as calmly as if he was waving off a waiter. “He needs to be able to talk.”

An aggrieved murmur went through the crowd, but the huge guard stepped back obediently.

Moloch took the steps up to the door and I almost panicked that he was coming back into the club, but he was merely using the stairwell to speak out over the assembled Devils.

“All your other Rat bastards are dead,” Moloch sneered. He was maybe three feet away from me and I could only see the heel of his boot, but I could picture the expression on his face. The blood-red lips and the flat black eyes would be twisted into a hungry leer. He was in complete control of another person’s life, and nothing got him off harder than that. I wondered if he was erect.

“You understand me? Anyone else coming, you’re gonna wanna call them off if you want to live.”

I heard a gasping bubble as the beaten Rat tried to speak. I heard motion, then a whispery voice floated up from below. “More... coming.”

A murmur of rage boiled up from the Devils, but Moloch raised his voice. “Why?”

“Truce... broken. War...”

“We don’t need a war,” Moloch replied. “You have your territory, and we have ours. You killed our men, and we killed yours. We’re even.”

“Not... what we want.”

“What the fuck do you want, then?!” Moloch exploded.

“Want... Turner.”

“What?”

“We want... Cade Turner.”

I clapped my hands over my mouth to stifle a scream.

I
had to do something. I had to get out of there. I had to warn Cade.

I needed to move. Right now.

But I lay paralyzed on the hallway floor. It was impossible to wrench my eyes away from the bloody face of the Rat King. He had just passed a death sentence on the man I loved and hated with my whole heart.

The roar of indignant voices that swelled up from the crowded Devils gave voice to my feelings.

“Eat shit, asshole!”

“You’re not getting him!”

“Don’t you dare talk about Turner with your filthy Rat mouth!”

One of the Devils broke free from the throng and landed a heavy blow across the back of the bound man’s head. Blood sprayed from his mouth in a fine mist and his head sagged sickeningly to the side. I bit my fist to keep from screaming.

“Enough!” Moloch shouted over the din. The Devils quieted, waiting to hear what their leader had to say.

I could see their twisted faces. They were waiting for him to give them to go-ahead to kill the man in the chair. Their bloodlust was at its height. They had been surprised in an unprovoked early morning attack and had lost several people.

Larissa and Ginger were dead. Zyz the bartender was dead and his gun was in my back pocket. Manny the gate guard was dead. Bear, a biker I had never met, was severely injured.

And then there was Jax. He had been part of my initiation. But once it was over, he had treated me with respect. And now I had just found out that Trina, who I liked very much, was his old lady. Jax had been shot by one of the attacking Rat Kings and Cade had rushed off with him on his bike to get him help before he bled out.

The Devils were ready to exact their revenge.

“Enough!” Moloch cried again. His voice was high and panicked.

When the noise finally died down, Moloch spoke again. “Can you hear me?”

The battered Rat King dropped his head forward. I could hear the blood rattling in his throat. Then turned his head and spat to the side, right at the feet of the biker who had struck him.

“I can fucking hear you,” he said, and his voice was stronger than before.

“There’s more coming?”

“A whole lot more.”

“Why do you want Turner?”

“He broke the truce.”

“How?”

“Came into our territory.”

“That ain’t enough reason for us to give up our brother!” came the shout from the crowd. A roar of assent boiled up again. This time, it took several hysterical shrieks and curses before Moloch could quiet them down.

“Untie him,” he ordered, motioning to the big guard. A roar of disapproval went up from the assembled Devils. They were too loud to hear the approaching engines.

But I heard them.

Like rolling thunder heralding a coming storm, the unmistakable noise of motorcycles filled my ears. One by one, the shouts of the Devils died away as they listened. I saw fear written on their faces.

“Get him out front!” Moloch yelled. “To the parking lot. Move!”

I jumped from where I was lying on the floor and peeled out at a flat run, twisting through the narrow hallways at a sprint. Bursting through the stage door, I leapt over Zyz’s body and sprang to the front door. There I crouched, hidden behind the doorframe, and watched.

The roar of bikes was like thunder across the hills. They looked like a chrome armada, flanked out like an invading army. I remembered my fever dream of the attack on the house on the hill and shuddered. My dream hadn’t warned me that I would be on the losing side.

From around the back, I heard the answering shouts of the Devils as they massed outside the clubhouse to march into battle. I crouched lower as they passed the busted out windows.

But no one was looking back into the bar. All their eyes were fixed on the advancing wall of glinting hogs.

At the head of the formation was a biker with a flag hung from the pole at the back of his bike. The swath of fabric flapped and whipped in the desert wind. Each snap of the cloth treated us to the terrifying visage of the crowned, red-eyed rat they wore on their patches.

The head biker looked like a standard-bearer leading the cavalry on a charge across the battlefield. Their steeds were leather and chrome.

The head biker turned into the huge parking lot. As soon as he did, the big guard wrenched the bloody Rat forward and held a gun to his head. Upon seeing this, the head Rat held up a warning arm to the bikers behind him. He parked his bike and killed the motor about a hundred feet away from where Moloch and the guard stood.

The rest of the bikers pulled in and did the same, forming a line across the parking lot. When all the engines were quiet, the two sides stood in silence. The only noise was the fluttering of the flag against the flagpole.

“T
hought you could surprise us, but we got your man,” Moloch sneered.

The head Rat ignored this taunt. I saw the concern in his eyes from a hundred feet away.

“You all right, Dogger?” he called.

My hair stood on end when I heard the name. Dogger. Pauline’s brother was called something like that. Was that Matty?

“I’m all right,” Dogger wheezed back, lifting his head with extreme effort.

The head Rat nodded. “All right, you little piece of shit,” he snarled at Moloch. “How ‘bout you send him over and we talk about terms?”

Moloch crossed his arms. His tone was devoid of emotion. He was enjoying this—toying with people was his favorite pastime.

“You attacked us unprovoked, Randall.”

“Weren’t unprovoked.” Randall crossed his arms, matching Moloch’s bored air. “Your guys broke the truce. Turner and them crossed the tracks at Porter Crossing.”

The Devils looked at one another in shock. “You’re lyin’!” came a shout from the back.

To my surprise, I heard Wyatt’s snarl above the crowd. “It’s true.”

Everyone turned to look at him. He stepped forward into the space between the stand-off. I wanted to leap across the crowd and clap my hand over his mouth before he betrayed Cade any further, but I was rooted to the spot. Wyatt continued in a commanding voice.

“Turner weren’t tryin’ to take territory, you dense old fucker!” he shouted across the lot. “His old lady got attacked by some punks in your territory. Your guys couldn’t keep shit under control, so Turner had to cross the tracks and go in to get her.”

His words made me jump in surprise. He had called me Cade’s old lady.

Dogger jumped too. He wrenched himself around in the big guards arms until he could face Wyatt. “You say Turner’s old lady was in Porter Crossing?”

Wyatt looked at him, weighing how much to reveal. “We was bringin’ her here,” he drawled. “He picked her up in that shit-town we have meet-ups in. Flack Spring.”

Flint Springs
, I thought angrily.

Dogger shook his head slowly. “No, that ain’t right. Turner’s old lady ain’t from Flint Springs.”

Wyatt furrowed his brow and stepped up to the beaten Rat. “The fuck you talkin’ about? You don’t know shit about Turner.”

Dogger lifted his head in defiance, staring down Wyatt with his one good eye. “I know Turner’s old lady, ‘cause I came to take her back home.” He spat on the ground by Wyatt’s feet. “Bastard fucked with the sister of a Rat.
My
sister.”

My heart leapt into my throat. There it was. Matty. It was him. I was about to leap from my hiding place when the sound of a bike pierced the tense silence.

“Turner’s here!” came the cry even as the noise of the bike slowed.

I dared to poke my head further around the door.

Stop, stop, stop!
I screamed internally as Cade slowed just outside of the fence.
Don’t come in here—please!

But it was too late. Before he even had time to react, two huge Rat Kings had pulled him from his bike. I watched my lion try to fight, but more and more men piled on him until he was overpowered and wrestled to the ground.

He fell heavily and was then hauled back up to his feet, arms wrenched behind his back. I could see the look of shock and pain on his face and it pierced my heart.

It was too much for the Devils to see their sworn brother attacked like that.

“Die, you Rat fucks!” came the shout and the back of the crowd pressed forward en masse.

But they were held back by the Devils at the front of the line. In one fluid motion, seven of the Devils whirled around with their guns drawn and pointed them straight at their own men.

“Stay the fuck back,” Moloch spat. His minions snarled threateningly.

The Devils at the back of the line froze, confused.

“Are you serious?” came the call.

“They got Turner!” came another cry.

“First man who moves tastes lead.” one of the minions sang out gleefully.

“Fuckin’ traitors!”

Moloch ignored the cries of the dissenters and turned back to the Rat Kings. Slowly, it dawned on me what he meant to do.

“We got your man!” called the head Rat. “Give us ours.”

Moloch nodded. “We give up Turner and this war is over?”

The head Rat looked surprised, but nodded in assent. “Over.”

Moloch nodded. “Agreed.”

He nodded to the big guard. At once, the guard released his grip on Dogger, who staggered forward. The Devils roared in anguish but were held at bay by their own men.

From across the parking lot came Cade’s howl. “Why?”

Dogger stepped forward slowly, putting one foot deliberately in front of the other. With each step towards freedom, he seemed to grow stronger. His back was to me, but I could hear the menace in his voice as he snarled at Cade.

“You took my sister.” Each step carried him closer and closer, and I could hear murder in his voice. “Where is she, Turner? I hear you have a new old lady now. Where the fuck’s my sister? What’d you do with her?!”

“Stop!” I surged from the doorway, gun in hand. “Matty, stop!”