In the Arms of the Beast (Kings of Hell MC 5)

Nick put on the gloves as if it were a race, but the others weren’t in a rush, with some of the guys sharing a new flask, which had appeared out of nowhere. Beast could tell it was about to be a long night, but he decided to let everyone work at their own pace. He went back to the bed of the truck but frowned when he noticed that one of the axes, that had just been there, was missing.

Nick’s voice was loud enough to penetrate the low voices of the club members. “As many branches as possible? Who cuts most wins?”

Beast’s chest went tight, and he looked out from behind the vehicle. His blood felt erratic, as if his pulse synchronised with the beat thudding against the soles of his feet from underground. He spotted Nick in the white light the moment the axe hit the base of a branch as thick at his waist. For half a second, Beast was left breathless, as the throbbing under their feat intensified.

Nothing happened.

Beast leaned against the side of their vehicle, exhaling slowly, but then Nick ripped the blade out of the wood.

Red fluid exploded out of the broken bark as if the boy hadn’t buried the axe into a tree but into a living man’s chest, and the moment it sprayed him, white vapor surrounded Nick’s hunched form with a low hiss.

He screamed before anyone reached him, and Beast couldn’t have run faster despite fear lodging itself in his heart.

“Get it off me! Get it off me!” Nick wheezed out as if his lungs were about to collapse. When he dropped to the moss, the tree still bled.

Vars grabbed Nick’s legs and dragged him away from danger, and Beast froze as if flames were once again about to engulf his skin.

“No one else approach! Pass me water!” Vars yelled, frantically removing Nick’s clothes.

Beast’s first instinct was to move the boy to the car, but Vars was right. Whatever the substance inside this thing was, it wouldn’t have helped Nick if more of them suffered any damage. Vars at least would regenerate.

Nick’s screams were getting faint, as if he were drifting off from the pain, but it was a low, rumbly noise that made everyone’s blood freeze. The tree growled like a manticore woken from slumber. Its blood still drizzled down the trunk, resulting in more sour-smelling vapor, but Beast no longer cared and stormed toward Nick, who shook violently, his body arching as if he were in the final stages of a lockjaw infection. His hoodie was already off, and when Beast approached he saw it all—the boy’s features twisting with the pain of the burn, and the acidic sap producing white foam as it ate through purple-red flesh.

The substance had already chewed through Vars’s gloves, and by the time Jake ran over carrying a large canister of water, flesh was receding from his fingers and showing glimpses of bone underneath.

“Shit. Oh shit,” Joker muttered at Beast’s side, but there was little any of them could do.

Knight was already calling Doc, but Nick wouldn’t live to see any medical help if they couldn’t stop the substance from doing further damage. Beast grabbed the canister from Jake’s hands and leaned down to slowly pour the clean water over Nick’s injuries.

“Everyone stay back,” he commanded, fearing what could happen if any of the droplets sprayed the others, but he’d been the one to push for this in the first place. If anyone deserved to take a hit, it was him. It was his responsibility, and he’d fucked up.

Nick was still shaking, and his face shone with sweat, but at least the ugly wounds and bubbles forming under skin were cleaned of the foam. The raw flesh left behind looked as if it had been mauled by a grizzly bear that dipped its teeth in tar.

Beast could barely think by the time he used the remaining water to get the sap off Vars’s burnt hands, Nick’s breathing evened out. The flesh inside the open wound was darkening at an alarming pace until it turned black, but at least the burning no longer progressed.

The empty container dropped from Beast’s hand, and he helplessly looked between Nick and the tree, which wasn’t even bleeding sap anymore. That was the scope of what they’d achieved at the cost of a prospect’s life-changing injuries—a tiny scratch in the bark.

“Hell,” he uttered, resting his hands on his hips as he watched his men. He had no fucking idea what they would tell Fox.

Joker’s face was stone-serious. “The hospital’s not an option.”

Beast gritted his teeth. “Shut the hell up. We’ll do what we need to help him!”

Joker had the nerve to roll his eyes, but Beast let it go and ignored him.

Knight poked Beast’s arm. “Doc will be there in fifteen. Let’s step on it.”