Road Warriors (Motorcycle Club Romance Collection) (Bad Boy Collections Book 4)

by Faye, Amy

  I promised, silently, to be careful while we searched or if we got into a fight. I wouldn't be a hero, I would keep myself safe, so that I could stick around for her. Just for a while longer.

  The factory was huge, and lonely on a field. It seemed to me it used to build airplanes or cars, since there were some engines laying around in the grass. There were no guards posted outside, and once all of our bikes were turned off, the whole place was silent except for the croak of crickets.

  The front of the factory had large doors that could be slid open, and a smaller side door. Both were locked, until Saejima pulled out a gun and shot the lock off. When the bullet bounced off the metal, it nearly hit one of his men.

  Saejima, Elise and I backed up as Saejima motioned to one of his men. “You, go in first,” he commanded. His man, like all men under Saejima, was obedient. He was obedient to his last breath.

  As he opened the door, it pulled a wire no one had noticed. There was a loud bang, and then blood. The man fell to the ground with a hole shot into his chest.

  Elise screamed. So did a few of the other men. The man died instantly.

  “Fuck,” Saejima growled. “Alright, everyone be careful! Someone take Majima to the bikes and wrap him up. I don't want anyone else to die.”

  Someone dragged the body away. No one else stepped forward to go through the door first. Saejima sighed angrily and stepped through, moving slowly and looking around as he did so.

  As far as we could tell, as we all filtered in, that was the only trap. It seemed strange, to me. Why would someone only put in the effort to make one trap. Did he only want to warn us to keep out? Did he want to punish us, but not too severely? It didn't make sense.

  We all split up, but I kept Elise close to me. Her high heels clicked against the cement floor as we examined all of the machines. I found the machine where Jin's pieces had been placed, cleaned of all blood. It was the only piece of machinery that wasn't covered in dust.

  Near it, on the floor, was an empty pack of cigarettes. They seemed familiar…

  It was the brand Joey Oregon had smoked, when he was alive. “Saejima,” I called over to him, picking up the partially crushed box. “Look at this.”

  Saejima stalked over and took it. “That's impossible,” he said. I nodded, but something caught my eye. Something shiny in the light of the moon, on the ground. Bending down, I reached under a huge machine and grabbed it.

  I held it out to Saejima. “Impossible or not, it has to be him.”

  In my hand was Joey Oregon's lighter, engraved with a naked woman and his initials. It was plated with silver. I would have known that lighter anywhere. It was always in Joey's hand, being played with, lighting my cigarettes when I still smoked. It was there, on the ground, when I shot it.

  It was probably what he used to light my house on fire. It was probably what killed Etta.

  I hated that fucking lighter.

  I turned to explain to Elise, but she had wandered away from me, towards the east wall. I watched her tight ass for a moment, then shook my head to snap out of her body's spell. “Hey, come back,” I said, but she just waved me off and kept walking. She was horrible at following orders. I liked my women feisty, but she was going to drive me nuts if she kept disregarding me like that.

  “I'll be fine. Stop babying me.” She continued walking, and I let her. Eventually, she went through a door (carefully, checking for more traps) and disappeared from sight. Her absence left me uneasy. I wanted to stay close to her.

  Although I wanted to let her explore, I still moved closer. In case she called out for me, or needed my help. Just… in case.

  Chapter 10

  Imogael

  The room I stepped into was apparently used as a meeting room of some sort. There was a table in the middle covered in playing cards and ash trays. A trash can had some old takeout containers in it. Nothing about it seemed all that strange. Nothing really seemed useful. What could possibly help us find who the murderer was? Shouldn't murderers be good at covering their tracks?

  I didn't know what I was supposed to be looking for, even. I no longer had that sinking feeling that something bad was going to happen, but now I just felt confused and lost. There was nothing there. Nothing of any interest at all. I was ready to give up.

  Until I saw a feather. Black, shining. I picked it up, and the world around me started to buzz. Looking up, there was Seraniel, but it wasn't really him. You could see through his black body to the wall behind him just slightly, and the image was perfectly still, frozen with his arm out and pointing. It was telling me to go back out of the door.

  I tried to talk to it. “Seraniel? Can you hear me?” It didn't move, and it didn't communicate. It only pointed, silently. “I don't know if you can, but I need to tell you: Let me stay a little while longer. Let me stay until I can help Scott. Then you can send me back.” I hoped he understood. I hoped he wouldn't hold a grudge against me or Scott for that.

  Finally, it was time to follow the pointing finger. I went out, and there was Seraniel again, instantly in front of me and still pointing. I followed it through the machines, watching as its point changed direction slightly. It directed me to a far corner of the room, and then disappeared, taking the feather that had been in my hands with it.

  What the fuck was going on?

  Examining the corner that I had been directed to, I didn't notice anything about it at first. Scott was stepping up close to me while I looked, and then I noticed it: there was a rug in that corner. Taking it by a corner and pulling it away, I revealed a metal square in the cement floor. There was a handle on it, which I grabbed and tugged at, but I was too weak to do anything with it.

  I grunted at it for a while longer, trying to pull it up and failing miserably until Scott came up behind me. “You need some help with that?”

  I hated having a human body. It was so damn embarrassing to be that weak. “Sure,” I said bitterly, stepping away from the piece of shit hole in the floor. Scott took the handle in his strong hands and tugged, grunting. Finally, the metal began to move, sliding over the floor. As it did so, it revealed stairs going down into darkness.

  The area below had a smell that was foul to me, but no one else seemed to notice. It smelled like holy items, disgusting things that shouldn't have been in a factory at all. Scott stepped onto the stairs first, descending into the foul room. I followed him, covering my nose.

  On a long shelf along the basement's wall, there were religious artifacts. Ones that I knew had been stolen and were incredibly old. Paintings, goblets, crosses, vestments. Even reliquaries, finger bones and locks of hair from saints. All of them had been stolen a long time ago. How long had they been in that basement? What were they being used for?

  There were also bookshelves, covered with religious books. Some of them were deeply heretical to God, and those were the only ones I could touch. If I had the time, I would have read through them all. They had hidden history in them that demons had been searching for, for centuries. Lucifer would love them. If I had the choice, I would ask that I be allowed to bring them back to Hell with me. That would guarantee a place for me in the better parts of Hell.

  Scott and I worked over the room. Eventually, Saejima joined us. They examined the holy objects, I examined the books. There was so much knowledge in them, but I was looking for anything that could be used to find the murderer.

  I turned around to ask Scott if he had found anything, and then I saw the glitter. There was something in one of the golden cups, something that seemed odd and out of place. It was iron, and much newer than anything else in the room.

  “Scott,” I said. “There's something in that cup.”

  “Bring it here.” He didn't look up from the finger bone he was examining in a glass box. There was a look of disgust on his face. I had to smile, seeing his reaction so similar to my own.

  I shook my head. “I can't. I need you to come get it.” He gave me a strange look. I needed to come up with some kind of excuse. “
It's closer to you,” I lied. He tilted his head, but still he came. I pointed at the object, which he pulled out of the cup.

  “What is it?” I asked, stepping closer. It didn't carry the taint from the religious cup it had been in, no doubt because the dampening effect that iron had on magic. I looked at it and saw that it was a key with something written on it.

  “It's a key for a safety deposit box. One at the same bank we were at just recently.” He examined it. What was written on it was a number, no doubt the number of the box.

  Saejima sighed behind them. “I don't think we're going to find anything else useful here.”

  I looked at Scott. “We should go see what's in that box. Together. Let's solve this!” I grinned up at him, but his face was serious.

  “No.”

  Scott

  “What do you mean, no?” She asked me.

  I couldn't do it anymore. I couldn't put her in danger anymore. Knowing that Joey Oregon was somehow behind all of this, somehow back from the dead, made it very obvious to me that if Elise stuck around, she was bound to get hurt. I couldn't let that happen.

  “I can't put you in danger anymore. I'm going to pay for you to get a hotel for a while, until you figure things out...” I said.

  “That's not an option, and it's not your choice.” She had her hands on her hips. She looked so sexy when she was angry, but I couldn't focus on that then. If I did, I would falter. I had to stand firm.

  “I should have a say in whether or not you follow me around. You could get yourself killed.” I just wanted her to understand, to listen to me.

  She scoffed. “You don't even actually want me to leave. You just think you're going to be keeping me safe, as if you're some kind of white knight. Give me a goddamn break, Scott. So, tell me. Do you actually want me to leave?”

  I looked at her and groaned, rubbing my face. I couldn't lie to her. I never could. “No, I don't.”

  “Then I'm not going anywhere.”

  I stepped closer to her, pleading. “You have to listen to me. If you stick around, you'll just get hurt, and I can't let that happen to you. You're innocent of all this, and I'm dangerous.”

  “I don't give one fuck, Scott.” Her foot was beginning to tap against the floor. She was losing her patience with me. I wanted nothing more than to sweep her up into my arms and kiss her, but my conscience held me back. I knew I was bad news for her. “I'm going to help you, and that's that. You're not going to stop me.”

  I wondered what made her so sure of herself. Why she was always poised, and never fearful. She was such a strange woman. Saejima climbed the stairs, leaving us to argue in peace.

  “Please, Elise, I'm begging you.” I took her hands in mine, holding them to my chest. “Please save yourself. You can still avoid being linked to me. You can still be safe.”

  She pulled her hand away, a scandalized look on her face, and brought it hard against her face. The slap stung my face even as I touched my own fingers to it.

  “Ow! Why the hell did you do that?” I asked, rubbing my cheek.

  “Because you're too goddamn stubborn. I'm staying with you, and that's final.”

  I shook my head, defeated. “I just don't understand why.”

  “Because I love you, idiot.” She looked as surprised by her words as I was. Her face flushed red, and I felt the heat rising on my own.

  Saejima called down to them from above. “Is the soap opera done down there? I'd like to get our next moves planned out.”

  I stared at Elise for a few moments longer, then swept her into my arms, leaning her to the side. I cradled her face with my hands and kissed her, fully, deeply. I felt her soft body relax against mine, and her hands as they crept up my chest and gripped my jacket. She moaned into my mouth.

  When I finally stood her up again, she was a little wobbly. There was a cute smile on her lips that made me want to kiss her all over again, but we had other things to tend to.

  She loved me, though. She loved me, and I knew then what should have been obvious: I loved her too. I don't know when it happened, or what changed things between us, but I had a deep need for that woman that I had never really felt before. Not even with Etta.

  Could she possibly be my soul mate?

  Chastising myself for that childish thought, I reached out to squeeze Elise's hand again, then climbed the stairs. Saejima was waiting for me, his men still searching the nooks and crannies of the factory.

  “So what's up?” He asked, his arms crossed. There was a sly smile on his lips. Saejima had always been the one telling me to move on from Etta, to find a new girl and settle down. Maybe he sensed what had changed between Elise and myself down there, in that basement full of religious items.

  “Here's how I see it. Elise and I should go check out that box, see what's in it and what we can learn. The manager at the bank knows me, and he owes me a few favors, so it shouldn't be a big deal.”

  Saejima nodded, looking back at the factory. “I'll see what's up with the religious stuff down there, and I'll have my men look through some of the books. There might be something we missed, and I have to admit it seems really out of place. I kind of want to solve that mystery.”

  “Sounds good.”

  I turned to see if Elise was behind me. She was, her eyes were glassy and there was a smile on her lips. “We'll be going now,” I told her, then turned back to my old friend. “Be careful, and keep your men on a short leash. I don't want anyone else getting hurt. Check up on Antonio for me, too.”

  “Got it. You two be safe.” He nodded to Elise, a gesture which she returned. I took her hand, and we left that factory.

  Outside of the factory, Elise's demeanor suddenly changed. I watched her for a moment as she slowly caught up to me beside my bike. “What's wrong?”

  “I have something to tell you, Scott. Something you're not going to understand, and you're probably not going to believe. But you deserve to know, even if it makes you hate me.”

  I didn't think it would ever be possible for me to hate her. “Alright, I'm listening.”

  Chapter 11

  Imogael

  I didn't want to tell him anything at all. I knew that who I was, what I was, would drive a wedge between Scott and myself. But he had been honest with me, had told me so many of his secrets, and chances are my own secrets had something to do with the hell he was now living.

  “There's a chance you might meet the man who bruised my back soon,” I started. This seemed a better way to get into this, with something he understood. While the way I received those bruises was nothing similar to Scott's suspicions, it was entirely possible that Seraniel was here on earth in more than apparition form.

  “How is that possible? Was Joey...” He trailed off, not even wanting to finish his own sentence.

  I cut him off by holding up my hand to silence him. “No. It wasn't any of the people you thought you killed. I haven't been entirely honest about myself, Scott.” I look around, noticing that the street was quiet again. The doors were shut, the windows covered, with only peaks of light coming through a few of them. We were alone. It was the perfect time and place to reveal all of this.

  I could easily escape if I needed to, and no one would hear me. No one would be able to catch me in time. I just hoped so hard that I didn't have to. If Scott could find it in himself to believe me, to trust me, then I could continue helping him. I could continue being near him.

  I wondered if he needed me, or if I needed him.

  “I'm not following, Elise. You'll need to spell it out for me.” He tried to smile reassuringly, but failed miserably. I couldn't help but chuckle and reach up to skim his face with my hand.

  “You've noticed, I'm sure, that weird things happen around me. Maybe even that I'm weird, myself.”

  He nodded. “Maybe I have.” I knew he had. I saw the looks he gave me after I started trouble.

  “Look, there's no easy way to put this. I've never had to explain this to anyone before, it was always obvious before.
I mean with the skin and the horns and the wings, I was unmistakably a...” I cut off, sudden fear lurching in my stomach.

  “A demon,” he finished for me. He laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. I knew, then, that this wasn't going to be a pleasant conversation for me.

  Irritated, my nostrils flared. “Yes, Scott. A demon, brought up from Hell against my will. That's why I have those bruises, that's where my wings were. Wings are like a family heirloom, a point of pride, so when you're punished, they get taken away.”

  “If you're not joking, you're nuts.” He crossed his arms.

  Scoffing, I mimicked his body language. “I can prove it, asshole.” Then I thought about it. “It might take a few tries, though. I don't know what I brought up with me. I think I lost some of it when I was ripped up from Hell.”

  “Go on, then,” he demanded, watching me with cold eyes. I hated having those eyes on me, the disappointment in them. I was right. This was going to destroy the good thing we had going.

  I tried a few different things before I finally got something. First, I tried to materialize a bird into my hand, since it would have been flashy and undeniable. A living bird out of nowhere couldn't possibly be denied, but when I tried, it was like the water was starting to bubble but refused to boil over.

  Then I tried to make Scott float, which would have again been undeniable. It wasn't like he could have thought he was in on the trick if it was him in the air, but again, no luck.

  The third trick worked, though. It wasn't impressive, but it was good enough. “Open up your palms, towards the sky, and put your hands together in front of you. Yes, just like that.” I placed my hands under his and concentrated on the fires of Hell, feeling their heat rising in me.

  Finally, I felt the connection, the click. In Scott's own palms, I created a small fire, one that flickered and burned hot, but did not scald his hands. He gasped and pulled away, dropping the flame onto the road. I stamped it out, about ready to start crying. “I understand if you're afraid of me, or you hate me. That makes sense. I can't blame you for it. Just… please, let me see this through. Let me finish helping you. Once the murderer is gone, I'll leave and you'll never have to see me again.”