by Nikki Landis
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ARIZONA:
Pres – Hyde (black bear)
VP – Ronin (bald eagle)
SGT at Arms – Digger (gray wolf/lobo)
Enforcer – Tarek (coyote) Navajo
Secretary – Bomber (gray wolf/lobo)
Treasurer – Cale (mountain lion) Apache
Road Captain – Phantom (hawk)
Member – Quill (mountain lion)
Member – Saber (jaguar)
Buzz (Retired Pres, black bear)
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NEVADA:
Pres – Crusher (gray wolf)
VP – Smokey (black bear)
SGT at Arms – Claw (mountain lion)
Enforcer – Bandit (coyote)
Secretary – Ripper (gray wolf)
Treasurer – Fury (fox)
Road Captain – Vapor (Hawk)
Navajo Translation
Yá’ át’ ééh (hello)
Nizhóní (beautiful)
Ayóó Ánííníshní (I love you)
Yee naaldlooshii (skin-walker)
Nídin sélį́į́ shijéí bináká hoodzą́ (missing you left a hole in my heart)
Shijéí T'áá Hazhó'ó Niba' Iiłkił (my heart slowly ticks for you)
Shijéí Naa Nish'aah (I give you my heart)
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If you’d like to learn more about the Dine` culture or Navajo Nation, you can browse the websites below.
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https://www.navajo-nsn.gov/history.htm
https://www.discovernavajo.com/navajo-culture-and-history.aspx
https://www.britannica.com/topic/Navajo-people
https://www.legendsofamerica.com/navajo-skinwalkers/
SNEAK PEEK Ridin’ for Hell, Royal Bastards MC
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“YOU DON’T WANT TO DO this, bruh.”
This piece of shit really had no idea how much I actually did want to do this. I fuckin’ lived for it. Breathed it. Inhaled violence, blood, and death in like oxygen just to make it from one minute to the next. I couldn’t function, couldn’t survive through the day without my sinister addiction. My need to rip things apart and destroy flesh was a basic and integral part of the gruesome monster I had become. Nothing else was nearly as important as the vengeance that focused every fuckin’ decision I made.
Shit. I was created to fuck people up.
And I got off on it like a goddamn drug.
“My pres is gonna have your ass, motherfucker,” my prisoner yelled, spittle flying from his busted mouth. The drool was a mixture of blood and saliva as it dribbled down his chin. My gaze followed the movement of the fluid, almost gleeful at the fact that I was inflicting harm.
“Oh?” I asked calmly, unrolling my bag of delightfully sharp steel toys. “I’ll remember that.” Pausing to scratch my jaw, I shrugged as he narrowed his eyes. “I don’t take it up the ass, boy. Maybe you do? Or your pres?”
“Fuck you!” he shouted, wiggling his body, and only succeeding in tightening the bonds wrapped around his thick, meaty wrists. The fucker really needed to lose a few pounds. His chubby gut wobbled every time he jiggled.
“I’m not into men although I do have a club member who is.” Turning to Mammoth, I ticked my head in his direction. “Wanna a treat while I get everything ready?”
Mammoth chuckled, folding his arms across his massive chest as he silently appraised the punk dangling like a hunk of raw beef and stripped down to nothing but a pair of boxers. A meat hook secured to the main support beam above held him firmly in place, his feet scraping along the ground with every movement, not quite low enough to stand and much too high to rest on his knees. It was uncomfortable on purpose.
“I’d tear him apart,” Mammoth answered with glee. “He’d be shitting blood for a month.”
Mammoth wasn’t gay but at six-foot-seven he was big as a fuckin’ beast and rumor had it that he was packin’ some serious meat down below. Of course, that was conjecture spread among the little club whores or cookies who kept us all company. But the Scorpions MC member who was cussing us out earlier had paled with Mammoth’s words and didn’t know any of that shit.
Mammoth never changed his expression, just kept those dark blue eyes focused on our prey.
“Let me go!”
A bold and pointless demand. He wasn’t leaving this room. At least, not alive.
I was kind of hoping he’d piss himself soon with fear, especially once he realized he’d awakened to his last hours on this earth when the asshole climbed out of bed this morning. Mammoth’s lips twitched when our eyes briefly met, and I knew he was waiting for the same thing.
We were sick fucks, no doubt about it.
“How many years did you serve in Ely again?” Ely State was a fierce maximum-security prison in our home state of Nevada. Hell, the state’s only death row inmates were housed there. It was no joke.
Mammoth smirked. “Five.”
The Scorpion prisoner went completely still as he listened to our words.
“I can’t remember what the conviction was,” I replied casually, running my finger over the edge of a large hunting knife. “Murder?”
“That’s what the judge said,” Mammoth confirmed, his gaze never wavering from our prey. “Among others.”
“They ever find the fucker you were convicted of killing?”
“Nah,” Mammoth replied with a wide grin. “Too many pieces. Scattered them all over the state.”
That was when our guest decided to start shouting as loud as he could. Gave me a fuckin’ headache. “Grab him,” I snarled as I walked over to a flat, stainless steel table that we used for interrogations. A high, load-bearing ability with a maximum weight capacity of 1,000 lbs. and guaranteed not to break. Or so the manufacturer boasted. It was for made for hunters with bulky, heavy prey like elk or human cadavers that were morbidly obese. I liked the idea of the second option.
Glancing at Mammoth, I was reminded why we needed such an expensive table in the first place. He was over three hundred pounds of solid muscle alone and when he was holding someone down it was imperative the damn piece of equipment didn’t snap beneath the strain. That happened once. Wasn’t pretty. Took forever to clean up the bloody mess.
Chuckling lightly, I picked up a long steel rod used for sharpening knives and a hammer. Walking over to the Bloody Scorpions MC member, I lifted the objects before his eyes. “I think you need a little motivation. We’ve been enjoying each other’s company for over an hour now. I’m getting hungry and soon I’m not going to have any patience left.”
Mammoth was busy strapping the guy down and securing him so that he wouldn’t be able to move while I did my thing. Picking up the guy’s right hand, I pressed it flat against the table as Mammoth held his wrist in place.
“I’m gonna fuck you up!”
“What’s your name?” Mammoth asked, staring down at our prey as he struggled. “I wanna know whose mama I’m fuckin’ tonight after I gut you like a squirming little fish.”
“Fuck you!” He spit in Mammoth’s face and missed as one of Mammoth’s fists closed around his throat.
“Do it, Rael.” My V.P.’s voice was calm, deadly quiet in a way that almost frightened me, and I was one of his best friends. “I ain’t squeezin’ yet.”
Shit. Mammoth was pissed.
Maybe I should have asked one of my Enforcers like Exorcist or Jigsaw instead of Mammoth. His short fuse was gonna explode any second now. Better speed things up.
I settled the metal rod over the center of the guy’s hand, picked up the hammer . . . and slammed it down as hard as I could. A bloodcurdling scream launched from our prey’s mouth as the rod punctured the table and pierced his flesh. The rod was shoved directly through the center of his hand and wobbled above like a floppy dildo. Chuckling, I couldn’t help but stare at the blood that leaked from the wound and dripped onto the concrete floor, trickling closer to the drain I had installed years ago in the center of the room. I was kind of pissed that I didn’t watch my strengt
h and drilled a hole through the table, but my Reaper didn’t hold back, especially when I was occupied with my number one obsession.
Revenge.
“Your name?” I asked, walking around the table and over to my workbench.
All the guy did was yell and cuss, his body flailing until Mammoth began to squeeze. “Last chance,” he muttered. “I’d answer if I were you.”
Choking and sputtering, the BSMC member tried to speak. Mammoth loosened his grip.
“Tiger.”
“Your real name, not the pussy ass excuse for a road name,” Mammoth demanded, shaking his head in annoyance.
“Biff Declan.”
I snorted as Mammoth chuckled. “Your mama not like you any, boy?”
Biff cussed under his breath. “Fuck off.”
Shaking my head, I ignored the agitation that surfaced. I needed answers, not to lose my shit or let Mammoth take Biff’s life before I was ready. Sighing, I picked up a mallet and swung it around in the air.
“Your knees are next.”
The door opened across the room and Exorcist walked in, his bloodshot blue eyes assessing the situation quickly before he snorted in humor. “Thought I’d pop in and check on my two favorite brothers.”
Mammoth smirked. “Right. You’ll get your turn. I want my piece first.”
“What did he do to you?” Ex strode our way, all swagger as he lit up a cigarette.
“Spit in his face,” I answered, trying not to laugh at Mammoth’s expression of fury at the reminder. “But this asshole is mine until I say I’m done.”
Ex nodded, immediately understanding this was personal. I didn’t have to go into detail. The whole club knew my past. It wasn’t a secret.
“My pres is gonna kill every last one of you Bastards!”
Biff must be feeling brave again. Dumb fucker.
Taunting my Reaper was a bad idea. That motherfucker had a bad temper and a short fuse, and he always came out to play. There was a reason I was the club Sgt. at Arms. I handled the hard shit. The jobs no one else wanted to deal with because it was messy. Thing was, I loved to lose control. When I was angry, my Reaper couldn’t be held back. And then the real fun began . . . only to cause a shitstorm of carnage and destruction that dripped crimson and left everything in ruin.
Sort of like my past.
Sure, I’d been promoted to SAA, but I started out an Enforcer and that shit was in my blood. I didn’t get to play as much as I liked anymore and that had a hell of a lot to do with my personal vendetta. I was only participating in this particular interrogation because this asshole worked for the same guys I was after. The ones who took everything from me.
Rage bubbled under the surface of my skin and I felt my Reaper stir. “How’s Razr handling his new position? Missing Acid any?”
Biff was still for a moment and then started fighting against his bonds again, only succeeding in wearing himself out as he screamed threats and profanity.
“Yeah, yeah,” I mumbled, twirling the mallet in my hand again. “Answer my questions.”
Biff glanced at his hand and the rod still anchoring his palm to the table’s surface. He paled a little more. “He’s pissed. Your club is going down.”
“Razr picked the wrong club to fuck with this time,” Exorcist interjected.
“Who’s supplying his whores?” I asked, moving closer and lifting the mallet. “Give me a name.”
“Fuck you!”
Whack. The mallet hit his right knee as I swung, and a loud crack could be heard as the bone shattered. Biff’s screams echoed in the room as I walked around the table, leaning down. “The left knee is next.”
His words were almost slurred from the guttural screams that left his throat and the hoarse tone of his voice. “The Russian.”
I already knew that. Needed more detail. “Which Russian?”
Cursing, Biff shook his head. “Vlad.”
Vladimir Solonik. Russian Bratva or mafia. Fuck.
“When’s the last time he visited your pres?”
Biff’s eyes were glazed over with pain. He needed to answer before he passed out.
“When?” I demanded.
“They’ll kill me,” he finally answered, head turning to the side as his eyes fluttered.
Exorcist tossed his cigarette down and smashed it with his boot before turning on the sink. He filled a bucket half full and walked over to the table, dumping it over Biff’s head. Sputtering and cursing, Biff yelled for several minutes.
“When?” I asked again, swinging the mallet close to his left knee.
“Please,” Biff begged. “Fuck! Please stop.”
His pleas fell on deaf ears. Neither Mammoth, Ex, nor I gave a shit. It was far too late to bargain.
“Answer,” Mammoth snarled, his patience gone.
“Last Friday night,” Biff whispered as our eyes met.
“You know anything else?”
“No,” he replied firmly. “Razr didn’t call church. He met with the Russian alone.”
I believed the guy. My Reaper could sense when someone was lying. Biff was more afraid of the Russians than us. Stupid. He would die at our hands as soon as Mammoth and Exorcist were done with him. Suddenly fatigued, I dropped the mallet on my workbench. This shit didn’t matter as much as finding that Russian fucker Solonik.
“Go, Rael. We’re gonna finish this.” Mammoth knew what I needed. Didn’t have to say a word.
My gaze met Ex’s and he ticked his head toward the door, a cruel smile twisting his lips. “We’re gonna have some fun.”
I didn’t hesitate to leave the room, my thoughts a chaotic mess. Biff’s screams echoed in the hall as I trudged upstairs. Most of the brothers and cookies were already busy in their rooms. A few were passed out on the leather couches spread around the perimeter. No one was behind the bar. I poured a shot of Jack and tossed it back, letting the burn tickle my throat. After another, I set the bottle down and exited the clubhouse. Shadow, Toad, and another new prospect were posted at their usual positions.
I needed a ride and a smoke.
Even though that interrogation was over, I still felt restless, like my skin was crawling with unruly veins beneath the taut layers and an itch I couldn’t quite scratch tormented my every waking moment. The need to claw at the walls of my body until they were neat, slithering little ribbons of perfectly torn flesh pulsed underneath my skin. It wasn’t the first time I had daydreams or visions of blood, horror, or carnage.
The Reaper was a crude and vicious bastard. He always received what he wanted.
In this life, you reap what you sow. A lesson I learned all too well. Time was a brutal teacher as much as experience. Blind vengeance had ruled my actions and decisions for so long I wasn’t sure how much was my own desires or how much belonged to the Reaper. We were too integrated now. Too woven together to know where I ended, and he began. It was what it was.
A choice made out of desperation. Binding for eternity.
Not everyone wanted to run from their past. Some souls embraced the chance to hunt their prey and seek vengeance. To inflict suffering and bring death, and to wield the power of the Reaper until vengeance had been served. I was one of the ruthless Bastards that liked the carnage just a little too much. Victory drew closer with every breath I took.
But the past never left me, never completely diminished, and constantly haunted my dreams as much as my reality. Every minute of the day brought my vengeance closer to completion. A bitter and resolute countdown that began six years ago. The day I lost it all. And it wasn’t just me. My best friend Jameson’s suffering was as great as my own . . .
It was time to exact justice. I was going to find that Russian fucker Solonik. And my Reaper would make him pay.
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Ridin’ for Hell, Royal Bastards MC is available now!
Also by Nikki Landis
VAMPIRES –
NightWalkers:
Dark Promise I Dark Vengeance I Dark Persuasion I Dark Deception
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br /> Crimson Covenant:
Bitten I Broken I Bonded
Dark Divide Duet:
Extinction I Dragon
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SUSPENSE –
Transitions:
Zodiac Killer (Prequel) I The Gift I The Forsaken I TBA
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DARK ROMANCE –
Damned by the Devil Duet:
Rose Red I Wicked Thorns
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POST-APOCALYPTIC/MILITARY –
Freedom Fighters:
Refugee Road I Midnight Surrender I Crimson Dawn
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SCIENCE FICTION ROMANCE –
Alien Alphas of Pilathna:
Dungari Rise I Dungari Reclaim I Dungari Rage
Braxtharian Warriors:
Vindicator I Scarred I Renegade
D.R.A.R.B. Penitentiary:
Rage Beast Mate I Fever Hunger Mate I TBA
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VILLAINS/HEROES –
Volatile Vixens:
Harleigh I Ivey I Kat I Harleigh 2
Sinners Syndicate:
Onyx I Blaze I Chaos
The Collective:
Joker I Sinister I TBA
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MC ROMANCE –
Ravage Riders MC:
Sins of the Father I Sinners & Saints I Sinner’s Lament I Life of Sin
Lords of Wrath MC:
Tarek I Hyde I Ronin I TBA
Royal Bastards MC:
Ridin’ for Hell I Devil’s Ride I Hell’s Fury I TBA
Christmas Novellas: The Biker’s Gift I Papa Noel I The Biker’s Wish
Ravaged Souls MC:
Carnage I Horror I Mayhem I TBA
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REVERSE HAREM –
Hellfire & Halos:
Greed I Wrath I TBA
Five Realms Academy:
Coraline Blackbyrne Origin Series
Wicked Intentions I Wicked Secrets I TBA
Mystic Hallows Harem Episodes #1 - #13:
Black Magic Voodoo I Toil & Trouble I Witching Hour I Third Eye Blind I Day of the Dead I Tangled Threads I Tainted Moons I TBA
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FAE –
Throne of Lies Trilogy, Deception of the Fae:
Tainted I Tempted I Tricked
Court of the Dark Fae:
