My Dark Knight (Kings of Hell MC 2)

Laurent’s eyes went wide. “That was long before I knew what a vile creature he was! Elliot spoke about Fane’s victims many times as if they were trifles, mice to play with for the cat he loved.”

“Well, now he’s a mouse too, and you want to push him out to be eaten. Don’t you have a bit of heart in you for anyone else than Beast?” asked Knight, increasingly aggravated. Especially that he found himself pulled into those ridiculous, old-timey comparisons.

“I do, but is it even good for him to stay here? Would it not be better for him to live somewhere in Brecon where you could visit?” Laurent tried, making it seem as if it were perfectly fine to just kick Elliot out.

“Really? How about you move out to Brecon so Beast can visit you?”

Laurent pouted, and his eyes slid over Elliot, who just sat there in the corner, cuffed and listening to heavy metal for comfort. “So that’s how it is?”

“So maybe I want him to stay with me, all right? Don’t remember that being a crime,” hissed Knight.

Laurent stepped back from Beast with a deep sigh. “I guess the puzzle of how to send Fane into eternal flames is one that I would like to solve.”

Beast leaned down and kissed the top of Laurent’s head. “That’s my boy.”

Knight exhaled and finally looked back to see if Elliot was fine. The thought that a maniac like Fane could hurt him even now in slight, sinister ways, like making Elliot bite off his own tongue, was making Knight sick.

“I’ve been reading,” Laurent continued, “but it’s like looking for a needle in a haystack.” He looked up at Beast. “So I’m starting to consider if we shouldn’t… ask the demon for advice on the matter?”

Beast groaned and punched the wall. “We can’t become slaves to that thing. Any other ideas?”

Laurent swallowed and hugged his injured hand to his chest. “Well… an exorcism?”

Knight whistled in disbelief, but the truth was that if that sent Fane’s ass out of their lives, then he could pray, pour holy water, and donate money to the local church.

Chapter 25

Elliot no longer desired Fane’s company. And yet the ghost was always there, always taunting Elliot with insults, always looming somewhere in the background, hurling slaps and pinches when they were least expected. Two days had passed since the disastrous New Year’s party and the presence that used to be a minor inconvenience had become difficult to cope with. Even though in a convoluted way Fane had brought Knight and Elliot back together, he would also never leave them alone. What was even more frustrating, Elliot was kept away from any plans meant to save him, because if he listened to something—so did Fane. The limbo this left him in was bearable only because of Knight’s caring attention.

Elliot sat in the office while Knight worked there, went with him to run errands, but whenever Knight was off, he showed a genuine interest in Elliot, which often resulted in the most amazing sex. He acted as if Elliot were important. As if there was something unique about Elliot worthy of cherishing. A part of Elliot even considered that if keeping Fane’s ghost inside of him meant that Knight would never leave his side, then maybe he could live with the reality of permanently sharing his body with the malicious ghost.

He’d gotten used to seeing King whenever he walked past the gargoyle statue, and to the woman in an old-timey hospital gown, who always ran away whenever he approached.

Even the silent Native American man who roamed the grounds around the house didn’t creep Elliot out anymore. It helped that most of the apparitions didn’t seek out any contact, though judging from the snippets of conversations only he could hear, he presumed it was Fane the other spirits didn’t want to associate with. Even in death, Fane was the most hated man around. Their presence became ordinary, and every now and then, Elliot would see a shadow disappear too quickly for anyone to notice.

But while Elliot was unconcerned about the ghosts, mirrors were a different story. He couldn’t pinpoint the moment when he first noticed the change, but since William Fane entered his body, the hard, reflective surfaces hadn’t been the same.

It started with a sound. A low, indistinct hum that turned into a noise reminiscent of gurgling when Elliot put his ear close enough. But that wasn’t all of it. The mirrors still showed Elliot his face when he looked into them, but there was something very off about them, as if instead of hard glass they were like the smooth surface in a bowl full of mercury. Despite no single ripple ever appearing on the smooth glass, he could not fight the sense of seeing faint movement somewhere inside the mirror, and there were moments when Elliot felt as if something alien could emerge from his reflection at any moment.