by Helen Scott
"Why even give me the option?" I demand, moving ever so slightly closer again.
"Because the man who set this up preferred them alive if possible. I am doing it as a courtesy to him, a gentleman's agreement. Now, decide. I'm running out of patience for this whole thing." He taps his cane against the ground.
I look over my shoulder, making eye contact with first Crash, then Dragon, both of whom give a minute shake of their heads. When I repeat the action on the other side I get the same response from Striker and Phoenix. Well, at least I'm not on my own with this. If they want to keep me and are willing to fight for me, then I'm not going to stop them.
"Sorry, Doc. I think that's a no from us," I say as I plaster a fake smile on my face. I'm not sure where the confidence or sass is coming from but I feel stronger with these four men at my back than I have in a long time.
He takes a breath to respond, probably to tell his monsters to attack, but I'm already swinging my dagger and slicing across his throat. Blood sprays me in the face and suddenly everything goes quiet.
A moment later, all hell breaks loose.
Mengele drops to his knees, his motion making the spray of blood track down my front, but within seconds, he's lost enough that there isn't any spray anymore. It just flows down his chest, staining his fancy suit as his body collapses to the ground completely and his blank eyes stare up at me.
Before I can focus on the fact that I just killed one of the people responsible for the majority of my pain over the last few years, claws scrape over my shoulder, cutting through the fabric of my top and slicing into my skin like it's nothing but butter.
I cry out and fall to my knees. A hand lands on my shoulder. The pain that's flowing through my system diminishes and I know without looking that it's Dragon behind me. When another hand touches my other side, careful to avoid the wound, I don't feel anything. I glance up and see Striker grinning down at me like a maniac.
"Let's cause some damage, baby girl," he growls.
I've never had two of them touch me before, especially not after I was given the demon blood, but now that they are? I can almost feel their powers flowing through me. Anger, vengeance, a hint of lust, all come from Dragon, and when one of those beasts charges me again, I take all the fear I had bottled up from earlier in the evening and shove it outward.
Suddenly, all of them are stumbling over their own feet, not just the one I directed my emotion to, whining softly as they cower away from us. That only lasts a moment, though, as my own fear dissipates. It's just long enough for me to get back to my feet.
When the beasts straighten they come roaring at us once again. I hear the quiet pop-pop of the silenced guns that my guys are wielding. The first line of attackers falls, but there are beasts just behind them and even more behind those ones. The alley they attacked in was actually beneficial for us since it limited the number of them that could face us at any one time.
As soon as one of them is close enough I lunge, fingers splayed, and make contact with its chest. I expect it to lash out or bite, to do something, but its eyes roll back in its head as it howls in pain for a long moment before it starts to have some kind of seizure. The others don't miss the interaction and start attacking me from a distance, reaching with their strangely elongated arms as they try to slash at me.
I swing my daggers through the air, careful to avoid the guys, but with enough force that I slice into the flesh of the arms that are extended to me, even succeeding in cutting a hand, or maybe paw, off once. The whole time I'm fighting there are the pops of gun fire all around, making my ears ring, but I see that I'm not the only one that has taken to using a blade.
Striker and Dragon are using hand-held weapons as well, though I can't quite tell what they are without losing my focus. They handle the weapons with brutal efficiency, and the numbers that I thought were insurmountable in the beginning are starting to dwindle.
The area has become a blood bath, and though I had struck the first blow, I know in my heart that it would have always come to this. In my peripheral vision I see the guys fighting, and they are magnificent. Crash moves over to me when he catches my eye.
"Want some luck on your side, angel?" His voice sends shivers down my spine, and if we weren't in the middle of fighting for our lives, then I had no doubt it would do all sorts of things to my insides.
I grin back at him and move closer.
Instead of just putting a hand on my shoulder, though, he wraps his fingers around the back of my neck and pulls me in, kissing me hard and fast before turning me loose.
The next beast that attacks me doesn't just lose a paw, he loses both paws, a scream of pain tearing from his lips as he goes down. It almost breaks my heart that I'm causing so much pain, having usually been the recipient of it. With that in mind, I swing my dagger once more and almost slice his head clean off.
At that moment a twitchy feeling in my gut tells me to duck, so I do, and a beast sails over my head, crashing into the wall behind us. The bricks crumble from his impact and the scent of blood is quickly becoming overpowering.
The more I fight, though, the more I want to. I don't know whether it's Crash's luck, Striker's pain, or Dragon's powers, or just knowing that the four of them have my back, but for the first time in my life, I'm defending myself and it feels damn good.
I can't help but crave it a little more, and I find myself smiling at my next attacker, which distracts him as I launch myself toward him. I bury the blade of the dagger in his chest and my hand makes contact with his skin, sending him down to the floor, a twitching, seizing mass.
There's nothing that feels better than this, nothing that could take away the feeling of empowerment coursing through my veins in that moment. Lust twinges through me and I glance over at Dragon, who just shrugs as though to say "I can't help it."
The thought makes me smile and as I move again, taking down another enemy, I realize that I would rather fight and die trying to avoid going back to being an experiment than go meekly without a fuss. I had been weak and quiet for most of my life and all it ever got me was beating after beating until I was nothing more than a number.
Six-two-nine-one.
I will never be that again, not as long as I am able to fight. If these men stick by me, then all the better. I know they can train me in how to use this strange power I have. I know I heal fast enough for it to be odd, and I know I have demon blood flowing through my system. All of these things are only part of me though.
My name is Danica. Where I come from doesn't matter, only where I'm going. And right now? I'm going to kick some more monster ass.
26
Crash
Watching Dani fight is sexy as hell. I have no idea where her daggers had come from but they certainly weren't from us. She seems to be a natural with them though.
None of us had expected her to slice the guy's throat when she was inching closer to him, I could pretty much guarantee that. Maybe a punch, definitely a slap, but practically taking the guy's head off?
Not so much.
I knew I didn't have to kiss her to give her access to my powers, at least based on what Striker and Dragon had told us, but it sure as hell hadn't hurt. There had been a spice to her kiss that spoke of the anger and rage she was venting and I wanted more of that.
When the last beast finally falls, we all stand around for a moment wondering what the hell had just happened. The warehouse that we'd found ourselves in wasn't what we'd expected based on intel, and the ambush afterward? Not cool. Definitely not cool.
"So what the hell was that about?" Dani asks as she spins toward us, her white blonde hair whipping around her. It makes her look a little like a dark goddess with all the black she is sporting. Like a blonde, biker version of Hecate or something.
"You think we know?" Phoenix says with a sigh as he looks over at her.
"Aren’t you supposed to be the psychic or something? Shouldn't you, of all people, have seen this coming?" she demands.
"My visi
ons don't work like that for the most part. My power is unpredictable and usually a shitshow when it comes to trying to predict the future. I do better on an individual basis."
"I'm calling for a clean-up," Dragon says as he pulls out his phone and takes a few steps away from us. Well, as much as he can before he runs into dead mutated human bodies. His voice is a barely audible low rumble now that our mics are off.
"Where did you get those daggers, baby girl?" Striker asks as he reaches for her hand.
Dani yanks it out of reach, clutching her new toys to her chest, which makes Striker scowl. Not many people deny him, well, anything, especially if they know of his power, and even if they don't, it's usually because he's a scary motherfucker.
After a moment of glaring at Striker for trying to take her daggers she says, "I found them."
"Did they fall from the sky, darlin'?" I ask, curious about her response.
Clearly she took them from the warehouse, but where in the warehouse had she found them? That’s the question. Where had her little side adventure taken her?
"Obviously not. If they had, they probably would have killed one of you dumbasses," she replies with a grin.
She hadn't been this happy in our presence before. Part of me wonders if she's ever been this happy. We only know a little about her, but what we do know is that she was dealt a rough hand from the get go.
"Seriously, is this what you ran off to get?" Dragon demands.
"You're going to think I'm crazy if I tell you," she mutters, all the happiness draining from her face.
"Darlin', we drank demon blood to join a secret society. I promise, whatever you're about to tell us is not going to sound that crazy," I assure her.
She huffs out a breath. "I felt them calling to me, a pull taking me in the right direction. They were in a room off the main warehouse and they...they were glowing blue when I went in. Then when I picked them up, they glowed red."
We all glance at one another, exchanging looks like we can actually have silent conversations. I know my chosen brothers as well as I know the back of my hand. I know we are all probably thinking some variation of the same thing.
"A Chosen Weapon?" Phoenix asks.
"That'd be my guess," I say.
Striker and Dragon just nod.
"Anyone want to tell me what the hell a Chosen Weapon is?" Dani asks.
"Feelin' sassy tonight, baby girl? Is it cause you're still thinking about my cock?" Striker's voice is as smooth as silk as he teases her.
A flush stains her cheeks.
"A Chosen Weapon is a weapon that has found its way into human hands from the upper echelons of supernaturals. They choose their wielder. If these daggers called to you, then they chose you as their new owners," Phoenix replies, cutting a glare to Striker.
Hearing that Dani had sucked his cock earlier sends a spike of jealousy through our little group. The blonde temptress is going to be trouble if she isn't willing to play with all of us. That much is clear from Phoenix's surly mood.
If I'm being honest, it's not just him, though. Which may or may not have been why I snagged a kiss earlier.
"We should probably get out of here before the cleaners get here," Striker says, slipping back into business mode.
"They do not like having us in the way, that's for sure," I mutter, remembering the last time I hadn't left by the time the cleaners got there. They like to do things a specific way and having unruly bikers roaming around gets in the way of that. I get in the way of that, apparently.
"How did they know we were coming?" Dani seems to wonder aloud.
"The guy who approached us called me earlier, offering me a payout if I delivered Dani. Said he was working with someone else within the club," Phoenix says quietly.
"Someone wants to sell me back to the Necron Order?" Fear colors her voice as her eyes go wide.
"It appears that way. I think tonight was a set up. I've got a hunch, but I need more proof before I burn that bridge," Striker says, looking grim. Whoever it is he suspects, it’s not good.
"So we're just going to go back and see how people react?" Dani asks, sounding disbelieving.
"What other choice do we have? It's not like they came with a reference and a card saying ‘Sorry for betraying you and hanging you out to dry’," Dragon grumbles.
Dani just stares at him for a moment before she gasps. "Not an actual card, no, but something that might be just as useful." She scurries over to the man whose throat she slit and begins digging through his pockets.
"We should grab a couple photos before this is all gone," Striker says as he watches Dani search the dead guy.
I slip my phone from my pocket and begin picking my way through the bodies until I can get a few clear shots of what some of their faces and limbs look like. I snap away, knowing that more is better from previous experiences, and try not to think about the fact that these things were once humans that just made desperate choices, like Dani had.
My gaze darts over to her and I find her grinning like the Cheshire Cat as she pulls a phone from one of the inner pockets of the suit. I can't help but watch as she feels around a little more but seems to know that the phone is all she's going to get. She glances around quickly and I hide the fact that I was watching her using my hair as a shield. A moment later, when she's sure we're all busy, she gives the guy a good kick in the ribs and another between the legs.
The woman has some pent-up rage.
No wonder she looked like psycho Barbie earlier.
Is it bad that I liked it? I mean, I know I'm fucked up in the head, but I really shouldn't get a hard on from watching a woman kick wholesale ass, should I? Honestly, I am past caring. Dani is something else, something special, and as we demonstrated tonight, we aren't going to give her up easily, no matter what another club member may think.
There's something special about her, and it's not just the fact that she was given demon blood and survived, which doesn't happen with most women. Hell, most women don’t even last a couple of hours with the blood in their system before biting the big one. No, there was something about her as soon as we brought her in. I know that in my bones, one bone in particular. Plus, she seems to be interested in all of us, which is a whole other thing that I can't wait to explore.
"I got his cell phone," Dani calls out. She holds it up for us all to see.
I stop taking depressing photos of dead people that had been twisted into animals and make my way over to her, as do the others. "May I?" I ask once I'm close enough.
She hands it over without protest, which surprises me considering how she was with her daggers. As soon as the thought crosses my mind, I'm reminded that Chosen Weapons are generally cherished by their owners. I just had always thought it was because they used them so much, not because of a bond like Dani seems to have with her daggers. The woman has had them less than a few hours and she is already unwilling to let anyone else touch them.
I press the power button on the top and the screen comes to life. Locked. "We can take it back to the club house and unlock it there. Probably better that way since we don't know what unlocking it could trigger," I say as I offer the phone back to Dani.
She gives me a quizzical look, as though she expected me to pocket it, before taking it and slipping it into the pocket of her pants. We have all turned to leave when she calls out, "Will one of you take a picture of him?"
I turn and she’s pointing down at the man she killed.
"Sure," I say as I walk over, pulling out my cell and snapping another morbid photo. I take one with the fedora on, and then nudge it off so we can see his hairline before snapping another. The guy looks ancient in the light, but then flashes never really are flattering things unless you know what you're doing. And while I could spend the time to get a better photo, I know that there's no point. This is good enough, and we need to get out of here.
Quickly, the five of us head back to the bikes. I glance over at Striker and Dragon, who seem to have gone quiet, and I know, if th
eir expressions are anything to go by, that the shit is going to hit the fan when we get back to the club house.
I wish I could have time to make popcorn before the two of them lose it, but I doubt they would take my request very kindly. I'm just glad it's not going to be me on the receiving end of their wrath. I can't wait to see who is though.
27
Dani
We pull up to the gates, me on the back of Striker’s bike. I expect us to keep going, but the guys turn off their engines, and the world is swallowed by silence. A strange tickle lifts the hairs on the back of my neck, and my heart races a little faster. I crane to look around Striker and realize a man is sitting on a bike in front of the dark gate. It takes me a minute to realize it's the man they call Prez.
“What’s going on?” Striker asks, and there’s a strange note to his voice.
He climbs off his bike and comes toward us, his expression dark. “I got the call from the cleaners. I would’ve preferred to be updated straight from you.”
“Sorry, Prez,” Phoenix says. “We wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible.”
“Well, if you would’ve called me, I would’ve told you not to bring her back here.”
Huh? My stomach flips a little. As strange as it is, this place is starting to feel like home. What does he mean by me not coming back here?
“Why?” Phoenix asks, frowning.
Prez doesn’t answer his question. “Did you get anything from the scene?”
“Just a phone from the guy…a Mengele. Apparently, he was working with someone inside the club. We’re going to break into it and figure out who he was talking to.”
Prez nods. “Good. Very good. You guys took down some assholes and found a lead to the leak. Maybe it wasn’t another center, but it wasn’t a total loss. Where’s the phone?”
The guys glance at me.
Prez holds out his hand.
I really don’t want to give it to him, but I don’t see another choice, so I pull it out of my pocket and hand it over, feeling sick. The big guy pockets it, then continues talking. “Until we figure out the man on the inside, Dani isn’t safe here. I’ve set up another location. A safer one where no one knows who or what she is. I’m going to take her there. You guys are going to go back home and figure out who this asshole is and put a bullet in his head.”
