My Dark Knight (Kings of Hell MC 2)

“Oh, Jesus fucking Christ.” Knight walked up to the little desk and picked up the white tube where the fluid covering Elliot’s face had come from. “This isn’t even real makeup. It’s meant for Halloween.”

Elliot groaned. “Do you have any idea how much it costs to buy real white foundation? It’s not even funny. And I can put a filter on the video anyway.”

With his hair up under the wig, the little half-moon tattoo was clearly visible, and it was the one thing Knight liked about Elliot’s face right now because it was a part of his real face. From the neck down though, Elliot retained his charm. In tight jeans and a fitted turtleneck his skinny figure had a certain elegance to it, much more evident now than when he wore the polyester Count outfit.

Knight sighed. “Okay, whatever. Don’t really care. I came because I promised you a tour, and that’s what we’re gonna do. You can film, but you stop if I tell you to, and no pictures when I tell you not to take them. Is that clear?”

“Yes. I just want to film the house not… whatever it is that you do.” Elliot’s painted-on eyebrows went high and he placed the cane in front of him, positioning himself as if Knight was here to sketch him for a portrait.

“I just want you to remember and understand that you’re only here and still walking on those legs because I like a man interested in his history. My brothers would not be forgiving if you pissed them off,” Knight said. It wasn’t the first time he put that across to Elliot, but with that rotting Jell-O that was his brain, it was better to repeat himself. On the upside, as idiotic as Elliot sometimes behaved, he really was only interested in the history of the building and wouldn’t interfere in any club business. If girls could live here, so could Elliot.

Elliot waved his hand dismissively, as if he was already getting into his stuck-up character. “I understand, and I’m grateful. I believe I’ve put that across quite well.” He slid his feet into the heeled dress shoes with buckles and walked out first.

Knight rubbed his face but followed him and leaned against one of the windowsills in the corridor. “I studied the original plans of the house. This place where we are now was used for functions. It was only later divided into the hallway and rooms,” he said and looked at the ceiling. It was rather bare, but according to a description from a letter between Fane’s father and an acquaintance, it used to be decorated with a fantastical fresco depicting the abduction of Helen of Troy. Knight had never been interested in ancient myths before, but after stumbling upon this piece of information, he found Helen’s story online and read it. There was even an ancient book dedicated to it and written over three thousand years ago, and while he thought it was ridiculous to go to war over a woman—even if she were as pretty as the current Miss World—he supposed it was a good topic for a ballroom where people romanced each other.

But as he and Elliot walked down the corridor and Knight talked about all the details he knew, it was the look of sheer amazement and joy on the painted face that drew Knight’s attention. Sure, he’d had girlfriends who would listen to some of the history, but what they were really after was an exciting fuck in one of the rooms associated with Brecon’s infamous serial killer.

Elliot on the other hand? He was so into it. He inspected every creak, touched the walls, asked questions about the windows, seemingly in a world of his own making. His interest made Knight glad that he chose to do the tour at night instead of waiting until tomorrow.

When not spewing rude lies about Laurent Mercier or tweeting about how handsome William Fane was, Elliot was a surprisingly pleasant companion. He actually understood some of the genealogy jokes Knight was usually forced to enjoy on his own since none of his friends knew enough on the topic to see the humor in his stories.

After a lengthy introduction inside the former ballroom, they descended the stairs and viewed the billiard room, which still retained many of its original features, and Elliot was so delighted by the monkey-shaped bell handle he kept talking about it even as they progressed to view the former kitchen, which now housed beer kegs, toilet paper, and other things necessary for the daily running of the clubhouse. Despite its simple appearance, this room had remnants of paint running along the ceiling, and Knight even dragged in a ladder so that Elliot could take good pictures of it.

Knight in the meanwhile enjoyed the view of Elliot’s long legs.