The Disciples: A Dark Romance Collection

by Sweet, Izzy

  “Ah, there the two lovebirds are,” Lucifer’s drawl comes as he descends the stairs.

  He’s got a smirk a mile wide when he looks at the both of us. I haven’t removed my tactical holster or vest, and looking over at my wife in my black tactical jacket and torn up wedding attire, I can’t even begin to imagine what Lucifer’s wife thinks of us both.

  “Lovebirds?” Meghan repeats in disbelief.

  “Yes dear,” I say with a deep frown at the small beauty beside me.

  It’s going to be so much better if she goes with the flow, I think. If she doesn’t, shit here could turn messy pretty damn quickly. I’m not letting her get away from me, and I sure as hell won’t be letting anyone fucking try to take her away from me, not even Lucifer himself.

  This sexy little woman is fucking mine.

  “Dear?” Meghan rounds on me and stares into my eyes.

  She’s pissed and not hiding it.

  “Remember our vows,” I say.

  Standing on her tiptoes in those fucking heels she’s wearing must be painful, but she adds a couple inches to herself as she tries and fails to look me dead in the eye.

  “I’m going to fucking kill you,” she says only loud enough that I can hear her.

  Grinning, I wrap my arm around her waist, pulling her in tight.

  Then I whisper softly in her ear. “I’m going to fuck you so hard.”

  Gasping, she pulls away from me, turning a bright red. Fiery anger in her eyes mixes with something entirely different as she stares at me. Annoyance, fear, and lust all mixed in one delicious package.

  A knock at the door behind us breaks the tension that’s been building in the large foyer.

  “That will be one of the men,” Lily says with a smile as she goes to the door and opens it up.

  “Ma’am,” James’s voice comes from behind me.

  “Ah, now that we’re all mostly here, we should head upstairs to talk,” Lucifer says with a nod toward James and me.

  Meghan may be as brave as they come, but the look of fear that crosses her features as she hears this startles me. Does she think we’re going to hurt her for information? I’d never allow that.

  “Meghan, you look like you could use a cup of coffee,” Lily says with a smile.

  “I… I think I could,” Meghan stammers when she turns to look at Lily.

  “Excellent,” Lucifer says. “We’ll be in the office.”

  Right now I’d rather catch a cup of coffee, but that’s only because I need to keep Meghan close to me. She’s mine and it feels as if she’s being ripped from my hands as she walks past the staircase that I’m walking up.

  One last look over her shoulder at me rips my insides out.

  Fucking hell.

  Rolling my shoulders, I clench my fists a couple of times to get the blood flowing in my body. She’s safe in this house, I keep telling myself. I don’t like that she’s without me, though.

  I said I’d protect her. Not someone else.

  “Where’s your bag?” I ask James as we get closer to the office.

  “Bag?” he asks in confusion.

  “Yeah, with the thumbs in it.”

  “Shit!” James groans. “I just got all that fucking blood off me.”

  “Leave them in the car,” Simon’s voice calls out from the office. “My wife doesn’t need to see you trailing a bunch of severed thumbs through the house.”

  “Agreed,” Matthew says.

  Shrugging my shoulders, I turn back to James and say, “Ten fucking years. Ten years and I never touched a dick but my own.”

  “What?” he asks.

  Flinging my wrist out at his balls, I feel just the tips of my fingers connect. His eyes cross and he slowly falls to his knees. The groan he lets out is sweet music to my ears.

  “Lucifer had to explain what the apps you put on my phone were,” I say with a laugh.

  Lucifer just shakes his head at our antics.

  “Could you act your fucking ages?” Simon grumbles as he gives me a dirty ass look.

  “What’s got your panties in a bunch?” I ask Simon as I sit down in one of the chairs.

  “You fucking taking Callahan’s daughter as your fucking bride for starters,” he spits out at me.

  “You said bedlam and mayhem. I just married our families together,” I say.

  “I like it,” Lucifer says from behind the desk he’s sitting at.

  It’s the same desk that’s been in this house long before I came to family. He fits well behind it. Though it reminds me of the last time I saw him sitting there. It was the first time he sat there as the head of the family, with the bodies of his father’s former men splayed out around the house. A true coup.

  But that coup had come at a cost.

  Too many connected men died in this house that day. One of them being the mayor of Garden City.

  It was the mayor’s death that ended up sending me to prison.

  I should have rotted away in prison and died a long miserable death. But Lucifer kept his promise. He got me out. He said he would, but ten long years was a long time to see any light at the end of the tunnel.

  It turned me into the man I am now, for good or ill.

  Johnathan enters the office. He walks over to a chair near mine and flops his ass down. Doesn’t seem like he’s changed much. He’s still dressed like when I met him, jeans and biker boots with a gun at his hip.

  Andrew and the rest of our inner circle make it into the office, and Lucifer looks at us all with a deep grin.

  “I like having you all back together again,” Lucifer says.

  “Been a long time,” Johnathan says as he reaches over to slap me on the shoulder.

  Fucker. He knows I don’t want to be touched, but with that damn look in his eyes he doesn’t give a shit. Typical fucking Johnathan.

  Andrew pulls a phone from his pocket and tosses it to Simon. “All the stiffs in the church. Got face pics, and tried to get as many tattoos as I could. Mix of Russians and Irish. Should be pretty evident which side they were on.”

  “Good,” Simon says as he begins scrolling through the phone.

  “So, what’s the next step?” Jude asks from behind me.

  “We need more intel on why they’re partnering up with the Irish. Callahan wasn’t even much of a player over in Bethlehem before now. Is he simply trying to take a larger slice of the pie?” Simon asks, looking up from the phone he’s now got attached by some cord to a laptop.

  “Bigger piece of the pie is my guess,” Andrew says.

  “Same here, especially since I talked to the Heralds of Hell. Their Sergeant at Arms, Cane, is pretty pissed at the Irish as well. They were getting a good supply of guns from them that’s dried up recently,” Johnathan says.

  Looking over to him, I ask, “They still the top dog MC over there?”

  “Were,” he responds to me. “They got knocked down a few pegs when the leader died and his son got too big for his britches. That, and the fucking Cartel they have popping up all over the place there.”

  “They’re going to be a problem before too long if we don’t keep an eye on them,” Jude says. “The Cartel is up in Ohio, and it’s not exactly going well for the big cities.”

  “They are unfortunately for another day,” Simon says as he flips the laptop around on his lap to show us a picture.

  “Who’d like a deathmark on their head?” he asks with a laugh.

  Looking at the picture on the screen, I see a pretty blonde woman with brown eyes staring vacantly back at us.

  “I shot her at the wedding,” Jude says.

  “Well, one of us just pissed off a really bad woman. This is Tanya Petrov. Her twin sister is Anya Petrov. And we’ve just taken out one of the two deadliest women the FSB has ever produced,” Simon says with a grimace.

  “Meaning what, Simon?” Lucifer asks.

  “Anya Petrov is going to come gunning for us, and with her abilities, it won’t be pretty.” Simon clicks on another set of pictures
that shows two Russian men.

  “Misha Sokolov. Alexei’s right-hand man when it comes to the slaver’s trade since we killed off Sasha. Which is good for us and bad for them. I don’t recognize the rest off the top of my head, but I’ll be going through the prints and mugshots,” Simon says before snapping his laptop shut.

  “Next item of business, you married Meghan Callahan, Gabriel. Why is it that every time one of my men finds a woman from the wrong side of things, they marry her?” Lucifer asks with a chuckle.

  “They want to be just like dear old dad,” James says from the floor where he’s slid himself up against the wall.

  Shrugging, Lucifer looks over to Simon. “This will actually be working in our favor. We could have tortured her for what little information she probably had and then left her for dead somewhere… But this way we have more leverage. Especially in the future if we remove the Russians from the equation.”

  Just the mention of someone laying a finger on my woman has my vision turning red. I can feel the fucking rage flood through my veins so quickly I almost leap from the chair to throttle Lucifer for daring to entertain the thought.

  “Not fucking happening,” I growl through gritted teeth.

  Lucifer takes a moment to look at me, and I think he’s looking at me for the first time as the monster I am. “Agreed.”

  We stare at each other for a long time, the men around us talking and joking about the church hit. Not us, though.

  “Men, I do believe dinner will be served in a bit. Give Gabriel and I a moment to catch up before then,” he says while still maintaining eye contact.

  Simon starts to object before Lucifer raises a hand to cut him off.

  When the room clears, Lucifer says, “It’s been a long time since you went in Gabriel.”

  “It has,” I say in response.

  “Do you think I’ve forgotten what you did for me?” he asks seriously. His eyes still have that odd fucking glow to them after all these years.

  They have a way of looking directly into your soul. Looking so thoroughly through all those hidden corners of your mind.

  “You got me out. I think you’ve done exactly what you promised,” I say.

  “That’s not what I asked,” He responds.

  “No, I don’t think you’ve forgotten what I did. You couldn’t go in without this family going to ruin. Simon wouldn’t have made it through. I doubt John would have been able to, either. I was the one who had what it took to get through it all,” I say with a shrug.

  The intensity gone now, both of us lean back in our chairs.

  “Why did it seem like you were about to strangle me back there?” he asks.

  “You mentioned harm coming to my woman,” I say with a laugh.

  “Is she yours already, Gabriel?” he asks.

  Without hesitation, I answer, “Yes.”

  7

  Meghan

  “Cream and sugar?” Lily asks as she pours fresh coffee into a mug for me.

  “Yes, please,” I respond distractedly, too busy looking around and trying to wrap my head around this surreal situation.

  Is this really happening? Am I really standing in this upscale kitchen, surrounded by sparkling stainless steel appliances, with this woman who’s dressed like she just stepped off of a Paris runway?

  It feels too strange to be real. This perfect kitchen, Lily acting as the perfect hostess. Perhaps I’m still drugged and I’m hallucinating.

  Lily adds a little cream and sugar and slides the mug over to me.

  I pick it up, say, “Thank you,” and take a tentative sip.

  The coffee is almost too hot, but my body’s response to the heat is reassuring.

  As I set the mug back down, though, I notice the lettering wrapping around it.

  Coffee Makes Me Poop.

  Yeah… there’s no way this is really happening. It’s official, I’ve lost my ever-loving mind. Any minute I’m going to wake up.

  And then what?

  Get married to Alexei.

  Fuck.

  I really hope this isn’t a dream.

  “Meghan?” Lily says, the thick concern in her voice pulling my attention back to her. “Are you okay? I’ve heard you had quite the day…”

  I stare at her face for a moment, trying to determine if she’s being sincere or just faking it. She’s quite beautiful, stunning really, I realize. Even with her lips pulled down and her eyes narrowed with worry.

  “Yeah, you can say that again.” I sigh and reach for the mug again.

  Lily’s eyes flick down to the mug and back up to my face, the concerned look still firmly in place. “Perhaps something a little stronger is in order?”

  I pause with the mug in midair then quickly put it back down and push it toward her. “I’ll take the strongest booze you have on hand.”

  Lily nods and moves around the gleaming granite kitchen island. Bending down, she disappears from my sight and I hear bottles clinking together.

  “Is whiskey okay?” she asks.

  “Yes, that’s fine. Thank you,” I reply and frown.

  Her politeness is beginning to make me a little uncomfortable and suspicious. Why is she being so nice to me? Does she have an ulterior motive?

  Her blonde head reappears and she walks back to me with a bottle of amber liquid clutched in her hand.

  Untwisting the lid, she tops my mug off and gives me an apologetic smile as she stirs it. “I’m sorry, it’s not Irish.”

  “Being Irish is overrated,” I mutter before picking the mug back up and quickly gulping from it.

  Lily’s apologetic smile turns sad, and I’m hit with a little pang of regret for causing it. Even if she does have an ulterior motive, she’s been nothing but polite, and I’m acting like a rude ass.

  I quickly take another gulp of my spiked coffee to wash the pang away.

  “Do you want to talk about what happened?”

  My first reaction is to tell her no, hell no. I don’t want to relive a single moment. I want to get drunk and forget the whole thing happened.

  But maybe, just maybe, if she’s truly sympathetic, she can help me out of this mess. Maybe, if I work her right, appeal to her woman to woman, she can help me get away.

  I take another gulp of the spiked coffee and then ask, “How much do you know?”

  Lily glances nervously at the door before admitting quietly, “I’ve only heard a little here and there. I know you were to marry that Russian, Alexei.”

  When she speaks Alexei’s name a look of utter disgust passes over her face.

  And my heart begins to swell with foolish hope.

  “I didn’t want to marry him,” I feel the need to point out. “I was forced into it.”

  She nods her head, the look of disgust fading away, but her eyes are full of questions.

  I decide the best course of action is to start from the beginning. I don’t need to bullshit her or even exaggerate the circumstances. The truth is horrible enough to make my case.

  “They drugged me. When I came to, I found myself in a back room of the church, wearing this wedding dress…”

  Lily’s eyes grow wide, and they only grow wider and wider as I give her every detail, not leaving anything out. I want her to have every, gritty, gory detail. I want her to know what they did to me.

  As I tell my story, I notice her glancing wistfully at the bottle of whiskey, as if just hearing what happened to me makes her need a drink. But for whatever reason she never reaches for the bottle.

  When I finally reach Lucifer’s phone call, her face flushes with a blush.

  That’s interesting…

  Ignoring the blush, I wrap things up quickly and end the story by spreading my hands and saying, “And now I’m here.”

  Lily nods her head slowly and glances at the bottle again. I reach out and nudge it toward her, but she shakes her head.

  When I arch my brow, she explains, “I’m pregnant.”

  Of course she is, I think as Lucifer’s call re
plays in my head. I bet that’s all these men do. Lock their women up and fill their bellies with babies.

  Her blush darkens as I force a tight smile, grab my mug, and tell her, “Congratulations.”

  I finish off the rest of my spiked coffee and almost ask for a refill, as nasty as it is.

  An uncomfortable silence falls over the kitchen as we both process the story I told.

  Then we both speak at once.

  Lily says, “Meghan, I’m glad you’re—”

  As I say, “Lily, I know it’s—”

  We both cut ourselves off and laugh with embarrassment.

  “Go on,” Lily encourages me.

  I hesitate, wishing I could hear what she was going to say first. It’d be nice to have an idea of what she’s thinking right now. If she’s even moved by my situation.

  Taking a deep breath, I gather what emotional fortitude I have left, and say, “Lily, I know it’s a lot to ask, but I need your help.”

  Lily’s face immediately shuts down, becoming guarded, like a switch was just flipped.

  Damn. I was afraid of that.

  “What do you need?” she asks, glancing at the door again.

  No doubt she’s worried someone might overhear this conversation.

  The little hope I had deflates behind my ribs.

  I should have known better than to take this risk. She’s Lucifer’s wife, and if she’s anything like the Irish women, above all else, she’s loyal to him.

  I have to ask, though. I have to. I already let one opportunity slip through my fingers when I gave Gabriel’s phone back to him without a fight, and who knows how many more chances I’ll get.

  “Help me get away,” I whisper. “Please.”

  Lily’s expression softens as her eyes meet my eyes, and for a moment I almost believe all hope is not lost.

  Perhaps she’s different…

  Then she sighs and says gently, “Meghan, you said yourself Alexei is determined to have you. And knowing what I know, what everyone knows about him, if I help you get away, do you really think he won’t hunt you down? That he won’t spare any resource or expense to find you and right this slight against him?”

  My shoulders slump in defeat and disappointment.

  “He might not,” I weakly counter. “He might consider me a lost cause…”