My Dark Knight (Kings of Hell MC 2)

Beast groaned and stood closer. “Can’t we—you… pull him out somehow?”

Fane laughed even harder. “Oh, this is simply precious. Such big men and so little power.”

“Elliot, is he here?” Laurent asked and stepped closer.

Fane’s attention instantly turned his way. “Yes, pretty snake. Come closer,” he said and also took a step toward Laurent. “I will have your body one day, and it will be the sweetest victory. What I’d wanted to do all those years ago, albeit in another form. Can you imagine, Elliot, how easy it will be for me to lure men in with that innocent face?”

Elliot sighed deeply. “He’s here. He’s in me. I see a vision of him, but his actual being is in me. That’s why he can only affect my body and no one else’s.”

The sheer despair on Knight’s face made Elliot look away, instantly feeling as if this was somehow his fault. Then again... it was, and it had been only by a narrow margin that Knight himself escaped Fane’s plot and didn’t have to endure the kind of torment Elliot was subject to.

“That’s right. And if you don’t help me get into Laurent’s supple flesh soon, I will make sure you’re motivated to help me. One finger and tooth at a time.”

Elliot’s eye watered and he looked into Knight’s face in desperation he didn’t dare voice. They couldn’t use Laurent. And yet, would torture lead Elliot down the path of betrayal? He would never forgive himself if he bent to the ghost’s will. Laurent had already escaped Fane once and didn’t deserve to go through the same again, trapped in one body with the man who tried to rape him.

“Don’t come too close, Laurent. He wants to take over your body. It’s the last thing I want,” Elliot said even though he didn’t take his gaze off Knight.

Knight’s blue eyes never strayed from Elliot’s either. He cupped Elliot’s face, petting it gently, as if he wanted to reassure him but couldn’t find the words. But there was nothing to salvage. The only way Elliot could be free of Fane was by dying.

Elliot put his head on Knight’s shoulder, wishing they could kiss, but closeness would have to do. “He will never willingly leave. Maybe it would be better for everyone if you took me downstairs. If I… I mean—if he died there, maybe he’d be trapped again.”

Laurent stepped closer but stayed behind Beast’s large frame. “What are you saying, Elliot? He doesn’t deserve to take one more life!”

Fane’s cold, resentful face pressed against Elliot’s cheek and he hissed, rubbing his teeth against Elliot’s skin with each word. “How dare you! I am the only man you’ve ever mattered to! And that despite not even spending inside you once. You achieved nothing. You are nothing without me, and you dare disobey me?”

Elliot bit down on his lip to fight back a sob, but Fane pulled away and looked around like a wolf sensing fresh meat.

“Blood,” he whispered through Elliot’s lips, holding his jaw tightly. Without an ounce of care for Elliot’s wellbeing, he forced Elliot’s teeth on his tongue and made him bite down so hard Elliot drew blood. Quickly gathering inside Elliot’s mouth, it dribbled down his chin, forming a coppery line.

Elliot focused his gaze behind Beast, and it was only then when he sensed the intense, salty scent in the air. There was a red drop on Laurent’s finger, its color so scarlet everything else faded into grayscale. Laurent dropped the pin he’d been secretly holding and stared at the bed from across the room while the blood beaded on his fingertip like a flower in bloom.

“No… No! Take him out of here!” Elliot screamed at Beast, but Fane was already pushing out of his body through the fresh wound on Elliot’s tongue, and like a disease, he would infect Laurent’s skin, flesh, and bones.

Laurent didn’t budge, and Beast only now turned around to realize what was happening. “Now? Knight? Now?” Laurent asked in a high-pitched voice drenched in panic.

Time stood still.

Knight was right in front of Elliot, his eyes focused and dark as he reached to Elliot’s face, rubbing his uncovered fingers in the fresh blood. And then he pulled, straining his entire body with effort until the icy cold that had been a permanent presence in every fibre of Elliot’s body suddenly eased.

Fane screamed, and there was an edge of true fear to his voice as it clung to Elliot’s inner ears. Things happened all too fast, and as Elliot’s body slumped into the pillows, weightless and hot with fever, Knight stood, holding Fane’s lithe body by the throat with fists that burned with a blue fire.

Dazed, Elliot watched as the last bits of the black, fingerless gloves turned into ash on Knight’s massive fists. He had no more understanding of what was going on when he realized that the backs of Knight’s hands were marked with a round pattern, a sigil just like Fane’s and yet completely different. It glowed with icy-blue light, as if the devil’s seal had been carved in Knight’s skin, and the infernal light now came from within Knight.