Dead Man Walking (The Fallen Men 6)

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No one knew what to expect from the Thunderbird Squad. They mostly operated on their reservation or within the network of other First Nations’ communities on the mainland, so The Fallen didn’t much care what they did so long as it didn’t step on their toes. I wasn’t even sure if anyone other than Zeus had even met one of their members.

It was clear, though, when they rolled onto the compound that they knew of The Fallen.

They rode in no clear formation the way our men did, just an amorphous mass of bikers in leather cuts and bandanas. However, one man was at the helm who radiated authority just seated on his Harley leading the charge onto the lot.

He was the first to swing off his bike.

The first to take off his half helmet and reveal the tanned, surprisingly young face beneath. He had to be around Zeus’s age, late thirties or early forties, with a wide, strong body that made him seem shorter than he really was. His hair was cropped military short, an ink blot on his scalp, and his eyes, even from a distance, were a clear, pale brown like sunshine through maple syrup.

He commanded everyone’s attention instantly, and he was aware of it. His broad shoulders rolled back, feet braced, and he stared down the entire Fallen MC as if he planned to go to war against them.

For his sake, I hoped he didn’t.

Zeus stepped forward then, his massive bulk dwarfing the T-Squad’s leader, his swagger a smooth roll of his powerful frame. Just seeing him walk forward, proud, powerful, completely unruffled by a potential enemy rolling through the gates, released some of the palpable tension in the group.

“Nicholas Rivers,” he greeted with an extended hand. “Pleasure to fuckin’ meet ya.”

“Not sure the pleasure is my own,” Nicholas said, cutting straight to the chase. “You got a man here by the name of Priest?”

My man stepped forward from where we stood locked together on the stairs of the clubhouse. We hadn’t separated since his return from the police station, and I wasn’t eager to let him go then, but he moved away inexorably.

“You got a problem?” Priest called out casually, strolling down the steps as though he didn’t have a care in the world even as he cut a menacing figure all in black, his red hair shining like blood in the bright lights of the lot.

Nicholas’s eyes narrowed, and he moved beyond Zeus to face Priest. “You the motherfucker the police said were involved with these murders?”

Priest cocked his head to the side in that robotic, chilling way he had as he considered his opponent. Finally, he tucked his hands in his pockets and shrugged one muscle-heavy shoulder. “Think I’d be behind bars if they had any kinda proof of that.”

“We’ve all heard the rumors about you,” Nicholas fired back, rolling onto the balls of his feet as though he was prepping for a fight. “Maybe you’re just clever enough to get past the fuckin’ pigs.”

“We can both agree on that,” Priest practically drawled, obviously bored of this conversation already. “But this murdering arsehole is obsessed with my woman in a way he won’t lose sight of her anytime soon. I got no reason to kill for her when she’s already mine. You got an issue with me, though, I’m only too fuckin’ happy to sort it out right here and now. ’S been a while since I had anythin’ like a good fight, and you look like you can take a punch.”

The entire compound, dressed for a party but ready for war, held its breath.

Nicholas Rivers glared at my unruffled Irishman for a long moment before he tossed back his head and roared with laughter.

I blinked in shock as he rocked forward to clap a friendly hand on Priest’s shoulder before he walked back to Z and took his hand in a pumping handshake.

“Heard stories of The Fallen, but this shit is better than the telling,” Nicholas said through his chuckle, his face made handsome with harsh smile lines. “I’m looking forward to cracking a beer and seeing what the rest of you motherfuckers are like in real time.”

Zeus’s face broke into his charming as the devil smile as he raised their joined hands and called out, “Let’s get down to it! Someone start the fuckin’ music and grab this man a beer.”

Over the roar of the crowd and the churning of bodies as men swung off their bikes and The Fallen sluts rushed out to greet them in slicked-on halter tops and little miniskirts, I caught eyes with Priest and laughed under my breath when the left side of his mouth tipped in a minuscule smile just for me.

“I think he was always lonelier than he realized,” Cress murmured from beside me.