My Dark Knight (Kings of Hell MC 2)

Beast’s eyes turned into slits. “You’re not the president of the local genealogy society. You’re a biker. Sure, you’ve got a weird hobby. Fine. But you’ve got to see things for what they are. He’ll get bolder next time, see something he shouldn’t, and then we’ll have to really hurt him.”

They got to the trees and once the wild undergrowth and piles upon piles of shed leaves replaced grass, walking became much harder. The Count was nowhere to be seen either. Beast mumbled something about wishing he’d taken his dog, but Knight kept scanning the thick greenery for any signs of glittery fabric. He understood what Beast meant, but he was certain that for a coward like The Count, a scare would be deterrent enough. He would surely never even dream of coming back to their property.

“What did you fight about anyway?” Beast said in a calmer voice, but it was hard to tell his emotions sometimes, because the fire in which Beast had been burnt years ago had affected even his vocal cords.

“I told you he’s all over Fane. He actually called our clubhouse Fane’s property. He’s a fucking nutter,” Knight said, frowning when he spotted an indistinct white shape hanging off a tree ahead. It was only as they came closer that he recognized the white wig The Count always wore in his videos. “Look at this. I scared him so much he left this behind.”

Beast sighed deeply and rubbed his temples. At least it looked that he was slowly giving up on the search. “Why did you even talk to him for so long? I saw you from the window. You should’ve just told him to go.”

Knight raised his arms helplessly. “I wanted to, but then he started going on about having a connection with Fane and said some horrible stuff about Laurent—the historical Laurent, not yours—so I couldn’t just let that fly.”

“My Laurent is the historical Laurent. What did he say?” Beast’s body got tense again and The Count could consider himself lucky that he was gone.

Knight exhaled. “He has this theory that Fane was in love with Laurent, and Laurent just used him. I swear, I couldn’t make this shit up. The Count needs meds, not a bullet in his arm.”

Beast broke off a branch of a nearby tree in frustration and threw it to the ground. “I’m sick of this. We’ve found out so much about your ancestry in the last months. We’ve found out our clubhouse literally belongs to the devil. We even got all those exhumations you wanted done. But you still engage in this petty Internet bullshit. You’ve got to let it go, Knight. Someone will always have some theory, or write some dumb serial killer fanfiction. Is this… a rebound thing of sorts? You know, I wasn’t the biggest fan of Jordan, but maybe having a new girlfriend would take your mind off this stuff?”

Knight kicked some of the damp leaves, irritated that the same topic was coming back like a boomerang. “I don’t need to waste my time on another petty princess. Don’t you worry. I just need to sink deeper into this new role. You can count on me,” he said even though the pressure to act responsibly was mounting up around him like a giant wall about to crumble and fall on his head.

Beast looked back toward the clubhouse, as if checking for spies, and for a moment Knight felt as if transported in time, hidden in a dark forest, about to storm the nearby castle.

“I do count on you. With King dead, I need you to make this whole thing easier for me. I’m not that good with people. Mr. Magpie’s cooperating, so that’s good, but there’s only six of us now. Davy’s retired, his son doesn’t seem to be Kings of Hell material, and Jake still needs time to develop into a man and grow some balls. Anyone who’s to become a patched member now, would need to be informed about the responsibility our club has to some dark force we don’t even understand. Laurent is working hard with his reading and research, getting the hang of libraries, but it will take time. We can’t take this demon thing lightly.”

Knight licked his lips as they walked between the trees that suddenly felt as creepy as distant woods of horror movies. He’d only seen the monster’s towering presence—tall, black as tar, and with a set of huge horns—once, and it still haunted him whenever there were odd sounds around the clubhouse. “But the deal is to keep on partying and fucking so that he can feed off the energy. There’s no catch.”

Beast pushed his hands into his pockets, and his ink-covered face was illuminated by pale light when they walked out from between the trees. “I don’t want our club to fall apart over this. We are family. Much more so than I ever was with my father. And I’m saying this because I know this monster wants more. He can’t force us into anything or he would have done so already, but he will offer and tempt with things we don’t know the consequences of. He ‘feeds off energy’, but what does that even mean? That’s some anime shit. And even if that isn’t a giant smokescreen, then when will he have enough? How powerful will that thing be when it gets more? And what will it be able to do then? That’s what really matters, not some Internet asshole.”