On Your Knees, Prospect (Kings of Hell MC 3)

“So he’d be on our side if push came to shove?” Beast’s voice got a touch higher. “Maybe you could talk to him about it? You know, test the waters.”

Vars looked back at him before taking his time to step over a fallen tree. “I think for him my death was an opportunity to plant a pawn of his own in Baal’s territory. Clearly, they lead a very different kind of... life doesn’t really cut it, does it? Existence.”

“Would you do that for us, Vars?” Laurent asked and stepped closer, putting his fingers on Vars’s arm. “Would you talk to Mr. Magpie on our behalf? I’m sure there is something to be done about the pacts we are trapped in.”

Vars touched the sore skin where Damon had tightened the wire. “The man who attacked me tonight is my ex. He is also Magpie’s man. Magpie sent me here to keep us apart, because he still finds him useful, so I don’t know how that’s gonna work.”

Beast rubbed his face in frustration. “And here I was, thinking you will be the stablest guy in the club. Looks like I stand fucking corrected. We’ll call Magpie and ask about him. The cat’s out of the bag about you being here anyway.”

Vars wasn’t sure how to answer that, but a soft sound that could have been so easily confused with the wind called him from afar, tearing into his conscience like a thread tied around his finger.

Hound’s barking could have brought down walls. Low, and so loud its sound made Vars scowl, it was followed by the huge dog lunging forward so rapidly Beast needed to let go of Laurent and hold the leash with both hands in order to pull his pet back.

“Hound, shush!”

“Jake,” Vars whispered, speeding up despite the snow being thick and so crumby the fast pace sent some of it into his boot. “Jake!”

The whining sound was gone, and it crushed Vars’s heart to think that Jake might be afraid to show himself.

“Did you see him somewhere?” Laurent asked, running close behind but already panting from the effort. He scooted down next to Hound and put his arms around the dog’s neck, which finally stopped the beast from making more noise.

“Jake, please, talk to me. No one’s gonna hurt you!” Vars shouted, frantically searching the white scenery, but with bushes so thick, it was impossible to spot anyone who wanted to stay hidden.

“Laurent, stay here!” Beast said, but all of Vars’s attention was on trying to spot movement in the shaky beam of the flashlight.

Vars looked back, suddenly overcome with a sense of purpose. “No. You should both stay back. I’ve got this. Inform everyone we found him.”

Beast nodded, with a twist to his lips, and didn’t stop Vars from pushing through a thatch of bushes that dropped clusters of frozen snow on his head and shoulders. The dark spikes of the trees were like silent columns of an ancient temple that guarded the most precious thing Vars could ever touch.

“Jake, where are you? They’re staying back. It’s just me.”

The little sound was now just a raspy whimper. Far off, in a mound of snow, Vars noticed snow shifting over a dark shape.

His first instinct was to break into a run, but something about the quality of the noise, about the overwhelming silence of the woods around him told him not to, so he approached slowly, sinking into the creaking snow with each step. From up close, he finally noticed the shape of Azog’s wing covered by a thin layer of fresh snow. If he hadn’t known where to look, he’d have missed it.

“Jake?” he asked softly, stopping a single-stride’s length away from the breathing mound.

The gargoyle lifted his head slightly, no less monstrous than the statue under the stairs, but the blue eyes looking up at Vars spoke of sadness so deep Vars wouldn’t dare approach if it were anyone else. Regardless of the sharp teeth or harsh, protruding bones of Azog’s features, all Vars could see was a lost boy who needed comfort.

Jake’s whine vibrated in his throat, sending a wave of emotion through Vars’s body.

Slowly, not wanting to overstep any personal space Jake might need, he took one more step forward. Words were failing him, but seeing no resistance, he kneeled next to Jake and pulled the huge head against his chest.

“I’m sorry, Jake. I’m so sorry...”

This time, the sound Jake made was louder, full of reproach that made Vars throb with guilt. But even though he stayed in the melting snow, he extended his wing in an abrupt way that threw some slush at Vars.

At first Vars accepted the cold drizzle as an expression of Jake’s anger, but then his eyes spotted the bright hole in the wing, left behind by Knight’s bullet, and his heart might as well have stopped.