Voodoo (Royal Bastards MC: Ankeny IA)

by Kristine Allen

  “Ogun, wait. I didn’t send the message,” I tried to argue. The problem was, my body was betraying me. I wasn’t wet between my legs from the shower.

  He reached out, grabbed the front of my towel in his meaty fist, and pulled me into his hard body. When his lips crashed into mine, I melted into him. Despite my initial resolve, my head angled to accommodate the fiery kiss. The movement caused my towel to unwrap from my head, and my wet hair cascaded down my back.

  “Goddamn, you taste delicious,” he murmured against my lips. The next thing I knew, my towel was on the floor, my back was against my closet door, I was kissing him like the world was ending, and he was unzipping his pants.

  His thick fingers slid through my wet folds, and he groaned. The next breath had my legs wrapped around his waist and the entire massive length of his shaft buried in my core to the hilt. We both let out a raspy moan at the action.

  Without batting an eye, he fucked me against that door with my arms over his shoulders, my hands clutching his hair and the soft leather of his vest. It was fast, rough, and incredibly wanton.

  But I loved it.

  Every thrust.

  Every grunt.

  Before I knew it, I was shamelessly screaming his name as he pulsed inside me with an animalistic groan.

  “Fuck, babe.”

  “Oh my God,” I said on a sigh.

  “I missed you,” he muttered against the side of my head. I breathlessly chuckled.

  “It’s only been like nine hours,” I said as my legs tightened around his waist and my arms hugged his neck.

  “Nine hours too long,” he said as he gave a little thrust of his hips, causing me to shudder with an aftershock of pleasure.

  “I really didn’t send the message,” I gasped with a final shiver that caused him to start slipping out. My legs tightened around him, and he chuckled.

  “I really don’t care,” he said with a smirk. Carefully, he slipped loose of my body and set me on my feet. The hot, wet liquid running down the inside of my thighs gave me a terrifying realization.

  “You didn’t use a condom again!” I whisper-yelled.

  “Told you I wasn’t going to. I’ll provide you with fucking lab results, what the fuck ever you need, but I ain’t using a rubber with my woman. Fuck. That.” My heart stuttered at his words.

  “Ogun, about that… we need to talk.” I bit my lip because it hurt to consider telling him what I was about to say, let alone actually spit the words out. To distract myself, I grabbed one towel to wrap back around my naked body.

  His eyes narrowed suspiciously as he used the other towel to wipe himself off before tucking his thick length back in his pants. The slide of his zipper and the clink of his buckle almost made me whimper with disappointment.

  “We can’t do this again,” I began, but he held up a hand. Nervously, I gripped the towel.

  “You can stop right there. I don’t care what your excuse is, I’m not having it. When I told you that you were my woman, did you think I was kidding?”

  “I—”

  “No. Let me answer my own question, because I can assure you, I wasn’t. That’s something a Royal Bastard doesn’t fuck around with. Claiming an ol’ lady is serious shit, Kira.”

  “Ogun—”

  His hand spanned the front of my throat the way he seemed to like to do and pulled me close. He gave a light squeeze before pressing his lips to mine. This kiss was so far removed from the mutual assault of our previous kisses that it left me weak in the knees.

  “You’re mine, Kira.” He nipped my bottom lip in a teasingly sultry way that sent my heart racing and my lungs shutting down. It was like an all-out war on my senses that had my body in overdrive.

  “God, Ogun, you—” Another kiss shut me up.

  “I have some shit to take care of, but I’ll be back tonight. Pack a bag with enough for a couple of days. You’re staying with me.”

  “But Sasha,” I started. The sound of her name sent her sailing into the room and plowing into Ogun. Little traitor that she was, she was licking the hell out of his hands and arms.

  “Bring her. I’ll cage it over.”

  “Ogun, I can drive,” I argued, then wondered what the hell I was thinking. Why the actual fuck was I going along with his bossy, asinine demands?

  “I’ll text you when I’m on my way,” he said and then he was gone.

  In frustration, I huffed. How dare he order me around like I’m his property!

  “Damn you, Ogun Dupré!” I growled out. When he got back, I’d try to convince him that anything further happening between us was a really bad idea.

  Looking down at where Sasha was staring curiously up at me, I shook my head.

  “Don’t you go and take his side. You hear me?”

  Her answer was to tip her head in the opposite direction.

  “Rebel”—Shallow Side

  Some people say that what I practice is more hoodoo than voodoo. It’s a blend of many beliefs. After all, voodoo isn’t a uniform worship. It’s a combination of multifaceted influences that each individual or group perceives in their own special way.

  Because death is a regeneration of society as a whole in the voodoo culture, my grandmother’s family has held heavy belief that those souls that are truly evil need to be prevented from passing on into the next life. That’s the only way to keep them from returning to the earth again to rain terror and evil on society again. Therefore, it’s my job to ensure that the proper rituals have been performed to allow for either safe passage or none at all.

  As I knelt at the table that served as my altar in the shed that served as my temple behind the hog farm our chapter owned, I carefully laid the tarot cards out on the table one by one. Studying them carefully, I continued to softly sing one of the songs I’d been taught at a young age by my mother and waited for the answers I sought.

  The candles flickered softly, and I knew I was likely not alone. Without fear, I chanted the words that were like breathing to me.

  It was different for each of us in my family with the gift. For me, if I was actively seeking answers, I needed to enter a near trancelike state. My eyes remained fixed on the story the cards told as the lines and colors blurred.

  It was then that the loas spoke and I knew what my course of action would be. Breathing deeply of the burning herbs, I returned my gris-gris to their proper places, painted my face, closed the ceremony, and rose to my feet. Before I stepped outside, I remembered to grab my phone.

  It vibrated in my pocket for the twentieth time, and I cursed. It had been ringing when I went into my sanctuary, but I’d silenced it and set it to the side, knowing I’d call whoever it was back.

  Ordinarily, I would’ve let the call go to voicemail again, because I had a job to do. Except something told me to check it, and I never ignored my instincts. When I saw who it was, I smiled.

  “Granmé,” I said warmly as I paused with my hand on the doorknob.

  “Ogun. You are safe?” Her tone was hurried and fearful.

  “Of course,” I replied as if it was crazy for me to be anything but.

  “Your father’s people were here,” she whispered. She never referred to Hawk as my father. He was my dad or my papa. My father was the man whose evil blood unfortunately tainted my heart.

  “Are you okay?” My first concern was her safety. She’d been an important part of my life until I was six years old. Then she’d come to visit us as often as she could as I was growing up, but I’d talked to her on the phone almost every day.

  “I’m fine. Your papa and Jameson were here, thankfully. But you must listen to me. Your father is alive. They said he’s going after you.” Her hurried, gasping breaths worried me.

  “What the hell? Granmé? What’s wrong?”

  “Just a flesh wound. Thanks to my boys,” she said, and I heard my mother’s voice in the background.

  “Let me talk to my mother,” I demanded. There was a whisking and rustling sound, and my mother came on the line
.

  “Ogun. She’s telling the truth. She’s okay. Hurt—but okay. We had gone into town, and Jameson offered to escort us back because Mother had her vision again of being attacked. She tried to play it off as nothing—”

  “It was nothing! I’m alive, as you can see! I told you it wasn’t my time!” I heard Granmé grumble in the background.

  “Mother! Enough! Ogun, listen. She not only saw herself being attacked, she also saw your father kill you. Now today, she was attacked, and the men said….” My mother sounded worried and confused. Then again, so was I.

  “My father is dead,” I insisted.

  “That’s what we thought. But what if he isn’t? Ogun—promise me you will be careful. We’re coming home early. Hawk wants to be there to help protect you.” The last was said quietly and tearfully.

  “No. Granmé needs you there. I’ll be careful, and I’ll tell the brothers. We’ll stay vigilant, but it’s unlikely that he’s alive, and if he is, it’s doubtful he knows where I am. It’s been over twenty-two years with no word from him,” I rationalized.

  “I don’t know, Ogun. I think she might be right. After all, you didn’t hear from your father initially because the club made him believe we had died. Then we thought he was dead. Please, baby, be careful.” My mother only called me baby when she was emotional. Which was exactly what I chalked it up to then—high emotions related to her mother’s injuries.

  “Is Papa nearby?” I asked, because I needed other answers.

  “Yes. Hold on. I love you, Ogun,” she said, then handed the phone off to Hawk.

  “Son, everything okay up there?” His gruff voice carried over the line.

  “Yes. I’m in the middle of something though. The men that attacked Granmé—did you see them?”

  He snorted. “Sure did.”

  “And were they from Gambler’s club?” I didn’t want to say their name. Simply thinking it made my lip curl in distaste.

  “Oh yeah,” he replied.

  “How can you be sure?”

  “Because the dumb fuckers were wearing their cuts.”

  I swore under my breath. “Where are they now?”

  “Gator bait.” He chuckled. “And the bikes they left by the landing like morons are deep in the swamps.” Relief lifted a load of worry off my shoulders. If they were dinner for the gators, they obviously wouldn’t be running back to their club to tell tales.

  “Do you think they were telling the truth? About Gambler?”

  “Son, I don’t know. Your grandfather said he’d been taken care of, so I don’t have a good answer for that.” Frustration laced his voice.

  “Where the hell would he have been for the last twenty-some years?”

  “Don’t know that either. Jameson hasn’t been back all that long, but he’s got his boys looking into it too. Hold on, he wants to talk to you.” There was some rustling before I heard Jameson’s voice on the line.

  “Voodoo, brother, I’m sorry this shit happened. If we’d known any of this was going to happen, we would’ve had someone out here to keep an eye on her.”

  I scoffed. “Don’t feel bad, she wouldn’t have allowed it. Stubborn woman,” I grumbled.

  He snorted. “She might be stubborn, but she’s fierce. I just wish we could get her to realize she’s not immortal.”

  I heard my grandmother shout in the background, “Beau diable! You quit telling tales! You don’t know. Maybe I shall live forever!”

  Her outburst had me shaking my head with a wry grin. “Ask Hawk to keep Mama and Granmé safe. I need to finish up with work. The boys are waiting on me.”

  The huffed sigh that he let loose was followed with, “You know I will, and I’ll also put a prospect out here in the swamps too. Get to work—you’re not getting paid to stand around talking on the phone. Hawk and I will call Venom and fill him in on what happened down here.”

  “Roger that,” I said with a smile. “Thanks, bro.”

  The waning sun told me I’d been in the temple longer than I realized. It often happened, but that day, I had a job to do and someplace to be afterward.

  Cutting through the trees that concealed my temple, I emerged on the other side of the main farm site. An odd feeling of being watched hit me, and I scanned my surroundings. Nothing out of the ordinary seemed to be moving. It wasn’t the first time I’d experienced that. Reminding myself to read my cards, I approached the slaughterhouse.

  “Voodoo, you ready?” Squirrel asked as he leaned on the outside of the building. His head cocked to the side and down, he watched me through raised eyes as he inhaled deeply from the joint held to his lips.

  I nodded and stepped inside the slaughterhouse with Squirrel on my heels. Phoenix and Blade were waiting for us.

  “I still don’t understand that weird-ass shit you do,” Squirrel murmured, and I narrowed my eyes at him.

  “You have room to talk,” I replied.

  “Chill, bro. Didn’t mean nuthin’ by it.”

  I was used to people not having a grasp on my beliefs and abilities, which was why I kept those abilities to myself unless I was with those I trusted. Squirrel, I trusted, or I’d have never voted him in as a brother, but he had a habit of getting on my nerves.

  “Let’s get this over with. Venom called church for that De Luca job,” Ghost said as he came out of the shadows.

  “Jesus fucking Christ, Ghost. Stop that shit,” Phoenix muttered as he ran a hand over his face. Ghost chuckled as he shrugged unapologetically.

  Stepping up to the battered man staked spread eagle on the floor, I tried to find a shred of compassion for his human life, but I couldn’t. He was the worst kind of scum. We’d been paid extra to make him suffer. Every sick thing he’d done to the children he’d messed with was to be done to him—and then some.

  Taking in the giant dildo shoved up his ass, I raised a brow to Ghost, who shrugged. “Seemed only fair. I sure as shit wasn’t sticking my dick up there.”

  Despite the situation, I snickered.

  “Who are you?” he asked with scared, wide eyes as I pulled on a pair of nitrile gloves. He should be frightened.

  Not saying a word to him, I crouched and proceeded to draw a series of symbols on his naked skin using the tip of a razor-sharp silver knife. The first cut was such a shock that he didn’t make a peep. By the second, he shrieked like a little girl. It fed the beast that was stirring within me. Ripples of darkness ran through me as it fought to come to the surface. Shoving it back, I maintained my focus. This wasn’t the time to let it free.

  Once I had control, I mirrored the symbols in pig’s blood.

  He became increasingly agitated, screaming and struggling against the chains that held him in place. By that time he was shrieking at me. I ignored his pleas that turned to threats until he mentioned something I wasn’t expecting.

  “What did you just say?” I asked as I paused. The brothers in the room with me stepped closer, telling me they’d heard what I heard.

  “I said you’re going to regret this, because the Scorpions are going to be coming for you,” he said, obviously feeling like that had given him power.

  My eyes flashed to Facet. It was his job to find out every detail of the person’s life before we brought them here. He shook his head with a frown. He hadn’t found a connection between this piece of shit and the Scorpions.

  “I don’t believe you,” I said as I continued with my job. He screamed again. As if anyone would hear him.

  “Mule is my cousin,” the man rapidly threw out. I again looked to Facet, who appeared disbelieving and still shook his head. Mule was the vice president of the Scorpions down in south Des Moines. He was also a real piece of shit, so it wouldn’t surprise me if there was a relation between them.

  “Funny, we never found that information anywhere,” Phoenix said from his position over by Facet.

  “That’s because he was adopted. It was a closed adoption, we only found each other recently. You kill me, and he’ll be gunning for you.” The
man thought he actually had bargaining power, and I found that humorous.

  “And you think that scares us?” Ghost asked with a deadly calm.

  “Come on, I have a wife and kids,” he pleaded. That was knowledge we did have, and it curdled my stomach to think about. Especially because we knew his own children had suffered at his hands.

  “Maybe you should have thought about how much they supposedly meant to you before you destroyed any chance they had at a normal life,” Blade said from the chair he sat in as he organized his tools on the rolling cart.

  Blade was a fucked-up individual. Then again, with the life he’d had, it probably shouldn’t be a surprise.

  “Oh. You won’t be needing this anymore,” I said as I used the scalpel-like knife to slice off his flaccid penis. That was one of the specific requirements of this particular job.

  That got his attention. He began screaming at the top of his lungs—eyes wild.

  “You’re all dead! You hear me? You’re all fucking dead!” he screamed at us with spittle flying. At least until I shoved his spongy cock down his sick, twisted throat. Like a cold, calculating machine, I stared him in the eye as he gagged. Then, I slid the blade up his abdomen to his neck. With surgical precision, I sliced along his carotid. First, one side, then the other. Then across his throat in a garish smile.

  Bright crimson pooled around him as he tried to speak but couldn’t. While the savage beast gnashed its teeth in the depths of my darkened soul, I continued to watch the life leave his eyes.

  Once I was finished, I stood, peeled off the nitrile gloves, and told Blade, “I’m done. Finish up.”

  Ghost, Phoenix, Facet, and I stepped out to leave Blade to work his sick twisted magic on the guy.

  Once Blade was done with him, he’d be fed to the hogs on the farm, and no one would ever find his body. It was one of the perks of owning a hog farm and came in handy with the disposal side of our business.

  Hawk had inherited the farm from an uncle he’d barely known. The uncle didn’t have any kids, so as his only living relative, he’d left it to Hawk. That had been years ago. At first he was going to sell it, because he said he didn’t know the first thing about running a hog farm.